Smega-Drive

by Ganymede & Titan

Series V - Demons & Angels - All scenes



("RED DWARF" THEME)


Amazing.
The last strawberry in the universe.


Calibrator locked and set.
Organic infrastructure recorded and stored.


Engage the triplicator.


- (HISSES)
- It works!


- What works?
- We've adapted the matter paddle.


Only now the returning signal is split three ways,


so as well as receiving the original object,
we also get two identical copies.


This will solve all our supply problems.


Taking into account the
computations for recalibration,


I think we can produce four,
perhaps even five strawberries a week.


Well, I don't know if the Nobel
Prize people run a fruit section,


but if they do, you've got
to be this year's hot tip.


Gentlemen, history beckons.


You'll be famous. They'll build your statues,
even name towns after you.


Dorksville springs instantly to mind.


- This machine could revolutionise our lives.
- Absolutely.


With this little baby
running at full pelt,


I confidently predict we could have a
full fruit salad by the end of the year.


Look, it's not just strawberries. This machine can duplicate anything. It can...


Sir, what's wrong?


This strawberry's incredible! So succulent.


It's divine.


- Is that the same?
- Oh, no, no!


- How's it different?
- It's bitter, rancid.


- Sir, I, um...
- Kind of tangy.


- Sir, ...
- Crunchy.


- Sir.
- Tangy. Kind of chewy.


Meaty, even. It's a...
funny kind of wriggly texture.


Oh, smeg!


It's as if the triplicator has extracted all the very best elements
out of one duplicate


and the very worst from the other.


So what would happen if
we reversed the process?


Ah yes.


Nice experiment, guys. What do you do
for an encore? Neutron bomb juggling?


- (ALARM SOUNDS)
- Rude alert! Rude alert!


An electrical fire has knocked out
my voice recognition unicycle.


Many Wurlitzers are missing from my database.
Abandon shop! This is not a daffodil!


Repeat. This is not a daffodil.


Well, thankfully Holly's unaffected.


She's right! The engine core is approaching
critical mass. We'll have meltdown in less than 15 minutes!


Er, I think a brisk stroll in the direction of the cargo bay
could be an outstanding career move at this point.


Are you really saying Red Dwarf's gonna blow?


In less time than it takes a Norwegian to buy ski boots.


Hey, guys! I think they're playing our tune "The Awooga Waltz". Anyone care to join me in a quickstep?


(RIMMER) Holly, open cargo bay doors.


(NERVOUSLY) Er, Holly, those cargo bay doors
we talked about earlier,


- would you mind opening them, please?
- Holly! The doors, Holly!


The phrase "Cargo bay doors"
does not appear to be in my lexicon.


- Manual override!
- The phrase "Manual override" doesn't a-


Oh, forget it!


That's eighty klicks. We should be clear
of any possible blast zone.


- You really think it's going to blow?
- This can't be happening.


Nothing's gonna happen.
We're just here as a precaution.


The whole ship's full of fail-safes anyway -


cooling systems,
containment panels, vacuum shields...


The chances of it blowing are about one in...


..one.


Well, according to the charts,


the nearest asteroid
with an S3 atmosphere is six hours away.


The trouble is we only have enough fuel for five hours' flight.


I don't think that's going to prove
to be a major problem, though,


because we only have enough
oxygen for seven minutes.


(MUTTERS) Well, that doesn't really affect us, does it?


- (MUTTERS) Sorry, sir?
- We don't need oxygen.


Now, here's a thought. If we
ejected their corpses into outer space,


would the weight reduction
allow us to reach the asteroid?


- Come on, Rimmer, that's not the attitude.
- Sorry?


That's not the Red Dwarf way.
One in trouble, all in trouble.


- The posse.
- Boys from the Dwarf.


- If one of us is in a fix, the Homeboys band together.
- That's the way it is.


Have you got anything in writing?


You're a toad, Rimmer. You're a weasel.


You're a slimy river-dwelling rodent
with the morals of a praying mantis.


I'm just being a realist. Look, you only have seven minutes left to live.


That's tragic. God, it's tragic!


- But for the rest of us, life must go on.
- If I may interject, sir, in your case that's not exactly true.


Remember, you are operating on emergency
battery supplies. We have no spares.


In fact, you yourself, sir, will expire
in a little under four minutes.


...OK, homeboys, let's posse!


- Right, Kryten, get a radar scope, scan the wreckage.
- Straight away, sir.


Cat, get suited up. Maybe
some oxygen tanks have survived.


Maybe some fuel tanks. If we get a fix, and
we can get out there, and bring them on-board.


Meanwhile, turn Rimmer down to minimum power. That way it'll triple his running time.


Sirs, there's something out there.


Two objects, far too vast to be debris.


According to the backlog,
they materialised just before the explosion.


- Can we get in any closer?
- Enhance maximum.


(COMPUTER WHIRRS)


(KRYTEN) Of course. The triplicator has made two copies of Red Dwarf.


How?


Well, presumably, when I
threw the triplicator into reverse


it didn't reverse the process, it reversed the field
of the beam. Projecting it out, not in.


So, instead of the copying the strawberries,
it copied the entire ship?


Precisely. And presumably, the resultant power
drain exposed the engine's core, and caused the original to blow.


So, like the strawberries,
there are two new Red Dwarfs,


one succulent and divine,


- the other...
- Fish bait.


So what's the problem? We got us a ship. And from what you're saying it should be better than the original.


- Not quite.
- In the lab, the triplicated copies had a limited lifespan.


- How limited?
- About an hour.


Well, there may be a solution. The contents
of the ship should be triplicated too.


So, there will be a working triplicator on-board
whichever of the ships is the superior.


You see, theoretically, we can reverse the reversal


and replicate the original Red Dwarf
by amalgamating the two copies.


He makes it sound so simple.


We have to find a terminal to re-boost
Mr Rimmer's battery pack. We'll catch you up.


(CELESTIAL MUSIC)


Check that music. It's magnificent!
I never heard anything like it before.


(INHALES) Ooh!
Get a lungful of that air, man!


Hmm! Makes you feel good to be alive.


Everything about this ship is...
well, it's divine.


Hey, let's check the food.


- What did you order?
- Ultimate test - Pot Noodle.


(BOTH) Mmm!


I tell you one thing, I've been to a parallel
universe, seen time running backwards,


played pool with planets
and I've given birth to twins,


but I never thought in my entire life
I'd taste an edible Pot Noodle.


Brothers, we bid you welcome.


There must be much
you do not understand. Come.


You're me but you're not me...?


I am part of you, your higher self. Your spiritual side.
I exist in you as potential.


Now I'm here, extrapolated from your being.


Extrapo-what-alated?
Buddy, there is no way are you part of me.


No part of me would ever be seen alive in sandals.


I find clothes a distraction from the pursuit
of spiritual and intellectual fulfilment.


That's weird because I find spiritual
and intellectual fulfilment


a distraction from the pursuit of clothes.


Let us join our friends in the meditation
chamber. Perhaps then we can spend a profitable evening


seeking out answers to the metaphysical conundra
that have plagued mankind since time began.


- Sounds wild.
- Hold me back.


Philosophy, poetry, music and study.
That is how we spend our time.


Trying to expand our minds and unlock our
full potential in the service of humankind.


What a pair of losers.


Oh! More visitors. Come, soul-sibling,
let us prepare some refreshments.


May your path lead to wisdom,
and in wisdom know ye peace.


These guys are supposed
to be part of us? I don't buy it.


These are our higher selves. They are
the people we could have become


if all the negative aspects of
our characters were removed.


- You mean hippies?
- With respect sir, you think Jesus was a hippy.


He was. He had long hair and he didn't
have a job. What more do you want?


How come they're so much smarter than we are?


This is my guess - your mind records everything. Everything
you see, hear, every word you read, every conversation.


It's all stored in
your subconscious.


Somehow, our higher selves
have access to that knowledge.


Look, I'm getting itchy feet here.
You got the gizmo, let's scram


before the Mad Monk Brothers rope us into an evening
of philosophical musings and self-flagellation.


It's not that simple. This triplicator
has only half the vital components.


We need the second triplicator from the "low" ship.


(DING!)


Let the entertainment begin.


There will be haiku readings, poetry recitals
and musings on the inner soul.


But first, music and dance.


Brother Rimmer is portraying agony.


The agony of the soul as he searches out the truth.


The truth danced by Brother Cat.


(DING!)


- But truth is elusive.
- It flits like a firefly through the cold night of the soul,


teasing, confusing.


And agony, in torment,
searches forever in vain.


- Brothers, I am compelled to intrude.
- What is it, sister?


I am receiving a weak but plaintive distress call from a ship
which appears to be identical to our own.


Then, we must help them.
With haste, brothers.


(WHIRRS)


Approach pattern plotted.
Let's just take her in nice and easy.


OK, keep 'em peeled, guys.


Welcome, brothers.
We bring food and medical supplies.


(GUNSHOT)


Poor devil.
His gun must have gone off accidentally.


Welcome, my children.
We bring you balms and tinctures.


I come in peace to sing you healing hymns.


- Is he dead?
- We can only hope.


Oh! The poor wretch! He has a faulty gun.


He accidentally shot me five times.
Oh, how I love him!


Brother, there is a grievous fault with
thine weapon. It keepeth shooting people.


You see? There it goes again.


- What is this?
- It's a greeting gift. A sparkling welcome orb.


Come, let us embrace its splendid beauty
and share in its vibrations.


It's exquisite, divine.
What does it say to you, brother?


(SNIGGERS)


(GRUNTS AND SLURPS)


(MANIC MUTTERING)


(WHISPERS) Rimmer?


Rimmer?


- Rimmer?
- Looking for someone?


Holy smeg!


Hello, my pretty.


What do you want with me?


- I want to hurt you.
- Why?


Because I'm not a very nice person.


A holo-whip.


I'm going to lash you
to within an inch of your life.


And then I'm going to have you.


(LAUGHS)


(ALL LAUGH SCORNFULLY)


(LAUGHTER ECHOES)


Sirs, we're running short of time. We have less than 20 minutes
to find the second triplicator and set it up.


I suggest we divide our efforts.


- A sage suggestion, brother.
- Perhaps I should go with Brother Cat?


You haven't got a weapon.


We have no need of weapons,
feline brother. We wear protective herbs.


- I'm going with Bot-Brain.
- As you wish, brother.


Thank you, friend.


- It is ready.
- Put it in his spine. (SNIGGERS)


Wake up. You don't want to miss the pain.


Can you feel the needles
as they burrow into your spine?


(SNIGGERS)


You guys are two lettuces short
of an allotment.


- What are you after?
- We want your vessel.


- Nothing works here, man.
- Everything is in decay.


And here is how we're going to get it.