(DRAMATIC "2001"-TYPE MUSIC)
This is an SOS distress call
from the mining ship Red Dwarf.
The crew are dead, killed by a radiation leak.
The only survivors were: Dave Lister,
who was in suspended animation
during the disaster,
and his pregnant cat,
who was safely sealed in the hold.
Revived three million years later,
Lister's only companions are
a life form who evolved from his cat
and Arnold Rimmer, a hologram
simulation of one of the dead crew.
In the three million years we have been away,
it is my fond hope that mankind
has abolished war,
cured all disease and got rid
of those little western saloon doors
you get in trendy clothes shops.
- 140,000 rehydratable chickens.
- Check.
- 72 tons of reconstituted sausage patty
- Check.
4,691 irradiated haggis.
Oh, Rimmer, it's Saturday night. I've had enough.
4,691 irradiated haggis.
Rimmer, it's Saturday night. I want to boogie on down.
4,691 irradiated haggis.
We've been doing this for four hours.
Let's have a break.
4,691 irradiated haggis.
Rimmer, will you stop saying
4,981 irradiated haggis, and speak to me?
4,691 irradiated haggis.
Rimmer, I want to go for a drink!
4,691 irradiated haggis.
- I want some fun!
- This is fun, are you mad?
You read something out,
I say "check". Where's the fun?
All right. We'll put you in command
for a few seconds, Cap-i-tain.
What's the plan? Lickety-split.
- Go back to Earth.
- And in the meantime?
I dunno. Just sort of generally
slob around... have a few laughs.
Excellent plan, Lister.
Excellent plan. Brilliant plan.
There was me thinking you hadn't
thought about it but clearly you have.
Right, I'll stand over here
and laugh slobbily, shall I?
Rimmer, I'm going for a drink. Gimme me cigarettes.
I only owe you four and three quarters.
You owe me five.
It's one cigarette for each day you obey me.
Well, there you go. Five days, five cigarettes.
Ah, but I'm penalising you
one quarter of a cigarette
for saying, "check" in a variety of silly voices,
while doing the homogenised puddings.
Well, I'm taking five.
You take five, Lister, I'll eject the rest
of the ship's stock into space.
Ha, ha, ha, ha!
So, they're somewhere near an airlock?
Ha, ha, ha, ha!
You'll never find them, Lister.
I was always a master
at "Hide and Seek" as a child.
- It's not a gift you lose.
- OK, quark brain.
Even it out. Take out the flaky bits.
Oh, I really, really hate you, Rimmer.
Have a lovely, lovely time, Lister.
Give my regards to the air.
Lights!
Holly, why Rimmer's hologram?
Why did you have to bring
Rimmer's hologram back?
He was the most unpopular man onboard this ship.
I mean, he even had to organise
his own surprise birthday parties.
Who should I have brought back, then?
Anyone. Chen... Petersen...
I mean, Hermann Göring would have
been more of a laugh than Rimmer.
OK, he was a drug-crazed transvestite,
but at least we could have gone dancing. Water!
I brought Rimmer back because he's
the best person to keep you sane.
Oh, crap.
Not you!
I do apologise, I wasn't paying attention. See you later.
What about Kristine Kochanski?
You could have brought Kristine back.
Your entire life,
your shared conversations with her
- totalled 173 words.
- So?
In terms of wordage, you actually had
a better relationship with your rubber plant.
- I know, but Rimmer?
- He's the person you knew best.
Over 14 million words in all
Holly... Seven million of those
were me telling him to smeg off,
and the other seven million were him putting me
on report for telling him to smeg off.
Jean-Paul Sartre said
"Hell was being locked forever
in a room with your friends."
Holly, all his mates were French.
(LISTER HUMS)
Aaaaaaah! Blwoooooo!
(RAP BEAT)
I've been to Titan, I've been to Juno.
I can name eight things
that go in jars that you know.
Pickles.
- Jam.
- Spaghetti.
Brains.
What, in jars?
Me uncle's brain is in a jar. It's really sad.
- Why's it sad?
- He's not dead yet.
Right, everybody's punished. Finish your drinks.
(GARGLE)
(ALL) Argh, yeah, yargh.
Will you please excuse me? Will you move please?
Some of us have more important things
to do than wiggle our posteriors.
Will you move, please? Thank you. Could you move?
Excuse me, please. Excuse me.
If you want to dance, do it over there.
- Ow!
- Sorry.
That woman is out of your league.
- She's too classy for you.
- Who is?
- Kochanski.
- I've no big thing about Kochanski.
Stick to your usual type.
Women with little wispy beards
who wear three overcoats
and carry little bags of string.
- Kristine Kochanski?!
- Sh! Shut up!
What? Officer Kristine Kochanski?
- Selby?! Have you eaten a coconut whole?
- Naah! You've no chance with her.
You're just too ugly.
Listen, Hadron Head, I've got no
big thing about Kristine Kochanski.
- I have.
- So have I.
- Hahaha. Lister, where's my revision timetable?
- Sir, it's Saturday night.
Come on, nobody works Saturday night.
You don't work any night. You don't work any day.
- Skive hard, play hard, that's our motto.
- (ALL) Brbrbrbrbrbr
Look, I've got my engineering re-sit on Monday.
I don't know anything. Where's my revision timetable?
Is it the thing in all different colours,
with all the subjects divided
into study and rest periods,
- and self-testing times?
- It took me seven weeks to make it.
Now I've to cram my
whole revision into one night!
Hang on, is this the thing with a note on it, in red,
which said "Vital, valuable, urgent.
Do not touch on pain of death"?
- Yes!
- I threw it away.
- Ha-ha-ha-ha, tee-hee. Where is it?
- Nah, I didn't, I pinned it up on the wall.
- What? Why?
- To dry it out.
- What do you mean, "dry it out"?
- I spilt a goat vindaloo on it.
Don't worry! It's a little bit red, but you can read
most of it, especially if you scrape the lumps off!
You spoilt my... No, I haven't got time,
I'm taking learning drugs and all
I'm memorising is this conversation.
- They're illegal.
- Where's my revision timetable, Lister?
It's Saturday night.
No-one works Saturday night.
You don't work any night. You don't work any day.
Skive hard, play hard - my motto.
(CONTINUES TO REPEAT)
(GROUP) Brrrr... Bleaaaa...
I've been to Titan, I've been to Bolanski
I can name ninety men who've slept with Kochanski.
- Me, me, me!
- The London Jet Juniors!
- The service droids!
- My mother.
OK. Leave it alone. Leave it...
...alone.... alone.
Aaaargh!
(CAT) Aaaoooooowwww...
Oh, baby! Hey yeah! Jump back. Come back. Heh!
How'm I looking?
I'm looking nice.
My hair is nice, my face is nice, my suit is nice.
I'm looking really nice.
Aawh! Jump back. Ooh-eah. Hey! Get down.
I wonder how I'm looking now?
Still looking nice. My hair's still nice.
My face is still nice...
My suit. I'm just nice, period.
Aawh! Jump back. Get down. Oooh, heh!
Good evening, you stupid,
stinking, festering, gimboid of a cat.
Ah, you're going to put
these cigarettes back, aren't you?
Are you crazy? This is my all-time best lucky find
I ever found in the whole of today.
No. You're going to put these
cigarettes back quickly before he comes.
- These are mine!
- They're not yours, put them back.
See this hand? It is mine.
See these things? They are mine.
- I'll give you a fish.
- One fish? Ha!
- Two fish.
- For all these shiny things?
I'll show you how to get
all the fish you'll ever need.
- Five fish?
- Mmmm.
- Five fish! I'll be rich.
- You certainly will, yes, come on.
All right! Yeah! Huh! Aoooww...
Hey, hey, hey, hey... five fish?
- Six fish.
- Oooooh!
# Oh, I can't stand still... #
Lister, what on Titan is this din?
- LISTER!
(TAPED MUSIC CONTINUES)
- What on Titan is this din?
- It's Rastabilly Skank.
Is this it? It's got a health warning on it.
It's bad for you.
- It's a classic.
- "Danger! Government Health Warning:
"this music can make you irritable and irrational,
"and has been linked with disorders
of the nervous system and bowels."
No one takes notice of that stuff.
Lister, if you want to dice with death, fine,
but don't poison my sound waves. Off.
(MUSIC STOPS)
Why don't you listen to something
really classical, like Mozart,
Mendelssohn or Mot�rhead?
I think I've gone video blind.
Is that painting yours? It's rubbish.
It's a mirror!
I need some sleep.
Rimmer, do you remember Kristine Kochanski?
Navigation Officer?
Yes, I remember her. Snooty cow.
She used to look down on me.
She used to call me "Rimmer".
Everybody called you Rimmer.
Ah, it's the way she said it, though - "Rimmer".
"Rimmer", to rhyme with "scum".
God, she'd a chip on her shoulder, Lister.
- Yeah, well, I want to go on a date with her.
- Tough. She's dead.
- For just one night...
- No.
- I'm gonna turn you off for just four hours...
- No. No.
- And spend an evening with her hologram...
- No.
- Look, I know you're worried I won't turn you back on...
- No.
I promise, I swear if you tell me
where you've hidden the hologram discs...
- No.
- Uh! You're not even prepared to discuss it.
We are discussing it, Lister.
What's this if it's not a discussion?
A diesel locomotive?
I promise, I swear I'll turn you back on.
Is that it, Lister, is that the entire proposal?
- Yes.
- Well, Lister...
No, think about it seriously. Don't just dismiss it.
All right, all right. I'll think about it.
- You're just gonna say "No".
- Don't interrupt. I'm thinking.
- But, you're just gonna say "No".
- Not necessarily. I'm mulling it over.
(CLICKING HIS TEETH)
Yeeeeeee... No.
Look, what is it man, don't you trust me?
Black card, Lister. I'm holding up
a black card. Conversation over.
I've always been crazy about her
and I never did anything about it.
Oh, Listy, you've forgotten the colour code.
White: The white card is to continue the discussion.
But this is a black card situation. Discussion over.
- Listen.
- # Da-da-da Black card, black card. #
- I was talking about something else.
- White card. Go on.
Right, for a start I want to stop all
this black card, white card smeg,
- it's driving me crazy.
- Black card.
Four hours, I just wanna spend an evening
with her hologram! What's so wrong with that?
You don't know when to stop
do you, Lister? I'm your superior.
Technician was the lowest rank on this ship.
The man who changed the bog rolls
was higher than us.
Yes, well, he's not here now, Lister, and we are.
There's still a pecking order
and I'm pecking you, baby.
OK, Rimmer... OK.
- OK?
- Ooooh-kaaay.
- Is that a threat, Lister?
- Yeah.
Actually, "OK", Lister is not a threat,
technically speaking.
It is when you mean it to mean what I mean.
I mean it to mean: OK, Rimmer.
Ohh-kaaay!
No, Lister, OK is never a threat, no matter
how many "A"s you put on the end.
I'm going to pass the exams
and become an officer.
Come on. Wise up, Lister.
You'll have to salute me, call me "Sir".
You'll have to give me Kochanski
and me cigarettes.
On that day, Lister,
Satan will be skating to work.
Lister! Rise and shine, El Slotho. Come on!
I've been awake for
hours, Lister. Up, up, up.
Come on, exercise,
Lister! Exercise, sonny boy-
Quarter to two?
I didn't set my motivator.
I was supposed to be up at seven.
Why didn't he wake me?
He knows I'm a heavy sleeper.
Have I got to remind him to do everything for me?
He is so irresponsible.
Holly, give me a cold shower, will you please?
Certainly, Arnold.
Ooooh! Not that cold! Hotter! Hotter!
Aaaargh! Not that hot!
Just forget it. Can you give me a clean uniform?
Perhaps you can manage that?
Thank you, Holly. Where's Lister?
Er, Holly, where's my arm?
This isn't my arm. Whose arm is this?
I'm sorry, Arnold, your physical
data disk has become corrupted,
Don't give me excuses.
Give me my arm back.
I'll have to refresh the graphics from a backup.
It's got tattoos. "Candy"?
"Denmark Forever"?
Is this Petersen's arm, Holly?
I've got the arm of a Danish moron.
If you will just bear with
me for a few minutes, Arnold.
It's not good enough, Holly.
It's traumatic enough being dead.
And whose ears are these, Holly?
They're like two giant radar dishes stuck
higgledy-piggledy to the side of my head.
I mean, just look at them, look at them!
Whose were these ears, Holly -
an African elephant's?
They're your ears, Arnold.
It must have been the way I slept.
I haven't got time for this. Where's Lister?
That information is security protected.
What's he doing?
Mmmm!
- Hello, how can I help you?
- Fish.
Today's fish is trout à la crème.
- Enjoy your meal.
- Fish.
Today's fish is trout à la crème.
Enjoy your meal.
- Fish,
Today's fish is trout à la crème.
- Enjoy your meal.
- Fish.
Today's fish is trout à la crème.
Enjoy your meal.
- Fish.
Today's fish is trout à la crème.
Enjoy your meal.
- Fish.
Today's fish is trout à la crème.
- Enjoy your meal.
- I will!
- Lister! Where's Lister?
- Mine! The fish is mine!
I don't want your fish,
you stupid cat. Where's Lister?
Idiot! Holly, as senior rank aboard this ship,
I order you to tell me where he is.
- I've told you, I can't.
- Holly, that's an order
- You stupid, ugly goit.
- Ugly?
I'll have you know I chose this
face out of the billions available,
cause it happened to be the face of the
greatest and most prolific lover who ever lived.
Really? Well, he must
have operated in the dark a lot.
- You what?
- And when are you gonna give me my own arm back?
I refuse to walk round all day
with Petersen's arm.
You know what he was like.
God only knows where this arm has been.
Ah! What's he doing?
Beats me, Arnie.
Seems to have a mind of its own.
Tell him to stop it.
What is this? A cabaret?
Entertainment while you eat?
No, no, no...
Can you place bets? My bet is on this arm.
Ahhh!
Holly, you're absolutely
gorgeous and handsome
and delicious. Please
tell him to stop it.
All right, just give me
a couple of seconds.
Ah, look at that. I've outwitted him
He's given up. Look, he's given up.
Oooooh!
- Ah!
- There, done it. Just in time.
Hey! That was good. You should've finished
on a song, it would have been perfect.
I hate everything.
Where is Lister, the little worm?
(BANJO MUSIC SOUNDTRACK)
Lister? Listie... Listie... Wistie, Lister?
I know you're here, Lister.
You're always here, Sunday afternoons.
What are you two doing here?
Skutters don't have time off.
You really must think I'm stupid.
I'll deal with you two later.
(INAUDIBLE)
You're serious about this, Lister, aren't you?
- Go away, I'm busy.
- Off.
You seriously believe
a piece of fungus like you
has got the stuff to become an officer?
You've got the brains of diarrhoea
and the breeding of a maggot.
I mean, what are you writing on, Lister,
the inside of a chocolate wrapper?
I meam, come on!
Where's your loose-leaf file?
Where's your pencils, where's your
protractor and your hole reinforcers?
Rimmer, I'm going to pass
this exam by knowing things.
- OK. What's a porous circuit?
- Dunno.
- How do you calculate acceleration?
- Dunno.
Oh, this is sad. What's Boyle's Fourth Law?
- Don't eat greasy food?
- These are basic engineering precepts, Lister.
How do you expect to pass the engineering exam?
I don't. I expect to pass the chef's exam.
Chef? You want to become a chef?
Not really. I just want to become your superior.
But a chef? A white-hatted ponce?
That's not a real officer.
It outranks you, smeg-for-brains.
And Lister, what's this? Learning drugs?
They're illegal, matey.
I'm afraid you're in very serious,
grave, deep trouble, Lister.
Where did you get them?
I want names, places and dates.
Arnold Rimmer. His locker. This morning.
Why am I worried? You'll
never stick at it. You'll never pass.
Say "You'll never
pass, Mister Lister, sir".
Practise, Rimmer, makes perfect.
Question four... underline that.
What does the red spectrum
tell us about quasars?
Ohhhhh... I'm gonna die!
I've been "fished" to death.
My answer: in answering the question,
"What does the red spectrum
tell us about quasars?"...
Write bigger. "There are various
words that need to be defined.
"What is a spectrum?
What is a red one? why is it red?
"And why is it so frequently
linked with quasars?"
What the hell is a quasar?
Just put a neat cross through it.
we'll do the next one. OK?
(LISTER APPROACHING)
..and I think that confidently
and concisely answers the question,
"What does the red spectrum tell us about quasars!"
- Da-dum!
- Lister, did you make that?
Yeah. It's not that good.
It was supposed to be roast beef.
Do you want some, Cat?
It's got real cream and fudge in it.
Oh, no, I think I'm going to have to go
and do something secret.
Aaaaah! Look out! Food escape!
- So, Lister, you doing all right, yeah?
- Not bad. Not bad at all.
Listen, Lister, all this tension
between us is stupid.
There's just no need for it.
I mean, you're tense and I'm tense.
And there's just absolutely no need for it.
- I'm not tense.
- Of course you're tense...
You rectum-faced pygmy!
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
I mean, there's no need for you
to be slogging your guts out.
- I'm enjoying it.
- Shut up. Doing an exam and doing so well.
There's absolutely no need for it, Lister.
You can have the
cigarettes, they're in Pipeline 22.
- I know.
- Good.
The Cat betrayed me.
I don't mind. I'm delighted.
What I'm saying is, Lister, is: there's no need
for us to be at loggerheads.
- I mean, we're mates, we're pals.
- When?
Oh, come on, Lister. Laugh, laugh,
laugh, chuckle, guffaw, giggle.
- That's Rimsy and Listy.
- When?
- Millions of times.
- When?
Ah! Oh...
Ah, how about the time
your safety harness snapped
and you fell into the cargo bay?
- We laughed then, didn't we?
- I cracked me spine in three places.
Yes, but it was hilarious. We laughed like drains.
You laughed. I spent six weeks in traction.
Yes! That's right, that's right,
and you spent the rest
of the summer walking
around like a croquet hoop.
I laughed so hard I
nearly puked. I really did.
- What are you saying to me, Rimmer?
- I'm just saying, Lister,
That, with times as good as those,
there's no point in letting
something small and silly like this
come between a friendship
that we've nurtured,
like a small flower, petal by petal,
and watched blossom and bloom
into something rare and special.
OK. Give me Kochanski.
Smeg off, dishwasher breath.
You won't turn me back on.
What, Rimsy-wimsy-mimsy,
me bestest-ever pal?
Alright, Lister, I order you not to take those exams.
Black card, Rimmer.
YOU are black carding ME?
That's only the beginning, Rimmer.
When I pass the exams
and become an officer, you'll be on latrines.
You'll have the three o'clock watch every morning
and I know you'll obey me, because you. I mean YOU,
respect all that officer smeg.
If you mean I respect my superiors,
no matter who they are
and I obey orders blindly
and unquestioningly... yes! Yes, I do.
That's exactly what I mean.
Anyway, I've got to get some sleep.
Hard day's revision on the morrow.
You always become the thing you hate the most.
Look at you, Lister. Obnoxious,
ruthless, single-minded,
insensitive... you're more like me than I am.
Rimmer, you've forgotten the colour code.
This is a black card situation -
end of conversation.
"You never learn, do you?"
Chef Part One Examination.
Please proceed to the Teaching Room.
You're not ready for it, you know.
You should be doing last-second revision.
I am. I'm revising buns.
It's obscene, missing the entire
first minute of the exam.
OK, here we go.
No. You can't do this to me, Lister.
- Give me Kochanski.
- No.
That was a lousy thing to do to a hologram.
Have you no respect for the dead?
(PING)
- Hello, Dave.
- Aaaaaagh!
I'm just doing this,
er... I'm taking, er... This is a surprise.
Dave, why didn't you just tell me how
you felt about me when I was still alive?
Because I'm a dope and I'm a bum,
and I'm stupid, I'm an idiot
and I'm hopeless and I'm useless.
Sorry, but I just don't like you.
Oh-ey, I'm really embarrassed now.
I don't know what to say.
It's sort of pointless you doing the exam now.
Well, yeah, It's sort of pointless me breathing
in and out if you want to know the truth.
I could never love anyone like you.
So, you might as well pack up
your pots and pans and off you go.
I need a man who's going places.
Up, up, up the ziggurat, lickety-split.
So, it didn't mean anything to you, then?
- What didn't?
- You know, when we...
Made love on the snooker table, behind the bins.
- You never told me that!
- I thought you might have noticed.
Oh, yes, yes. I remember now.
We've never made love. Go away, Rimmer.
Look, I'm a bit out of sorts at the moment.
- I'm having a woman's period.
- A woman's period?
Women don't speak like that.
Give me a break.
I don't know how you've done it, Rimmer,
but that is not Kochanski.
It's Kochanski's body, it's Kochanski's voice.
What's the difference, come on?
The difference is that *you're* in there, urgh...
Well, you can't blame me for trying.
- Leave.
- I've seen something you haven't, squire.
OK, Holly, swap discs.
Er, Holly, this is not my breast.
I want my own nipple back.
- Leave, Rimmer.
- There's no rush, Holly.
Holly, are you sure these are my hips?
Lister: 169-12-14-6.
How did you do?
- How did you do, Lister?
- How did I do, Mister Lister, SIR?
# It's cold outside
There's no kind of atmosphere
# I'm all alone, more or less
# Let me fly far away from here
# Fun, fun, fun
# In the sun, sun, sun
# I want to lie, shipwrecked and comatose
# Drinking fresh mango juice
# Goldfish shoals nibbling at my toes
# Fun, fun, fun
# In the sun, sun, sun
# Fun, fun, fun
# In the sun, sun, sun #
