(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.
The most interesting
event that happened recently
was that Lister pretended he'd passed
the chef's exam, although really he failed.
That gives you some idea of how truly
exciting some days can be around here.
Holly, give me access
to the crew's confidential reports.
Those are for the captain's eyes only, Arnold.
Fine. Well, we'll give him ten
seconds to come back from the dead,
and if he hasn't managed it, then
we'll presume I'm in charge, yeah?
- No, he hasn't managed it.
- Whose do you want?
Give me... Give me Lister's. Just the remarks.
David Lister, technician, 3rd class.
Captain's remarks - "Has requested
sick leave due to diarrhoea
"on no less than 500 occasions.
"Left previous job as a supermarket
trolley attendant after ten years
"because he didn't want
to get tied to a career.
"Promotion prospects - zero."
I always liked Captain Hollister.
Such a great reader of
men was Captain Hollister.
A marvellous, marvellous man,
and a tragic loss to us all.
All right, Holly, give me mine.
Arnold Rimmer, technician, 2nd class.
Captain's remarks -
There's a saying amongst the
officers: "If a job's worth
doing, it's worth doing well.
"If it's not worth doing, give it to Rimmer.
"He aches for responsibility
but constantly fails the engineering exam."
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Holly, Holly...
MY report - Rimmer. Two Ms.
"Astoundingly zealous. Possibly mad.
"Probably has more teeth than brain cells.
"Promotion prospects - comical."
No, no, no, Holly, I want "Rimmer", that's
two R's; one at the front, one at the back.
Arnold, this is your report.
I always hated that pus-head Hollister.
He always resented my popularity,
that's why he never
put forward my proposal
to reduce the minimum
haircut length by an eighth of an inch.
Small-minded, petty-thinking modo.
Arnold, I'm picking up an unidentified object.
"Constantly fails the exam"?
I'd hardly call 11 times "constantly".
If you eat roast beef 11
times in your life, one would
hardly say that person
constantly eats roast beef.
No, it would be a rare, nay, freak occurrence.
"Possibly mad"?! What's he drivelling about?
- It's on the screen, Arnie.
- What is?
- The UO.
- What is it?
I don't know.
Well, you'd better find out,
haven't you. It's obviously beyond me.
I've 'got more teeth than brain cells', remember?
Yes, you have.
(SNIFFS)
(TOASTER) Would you like some toast?
- Uh-uh.
- Some nice hot crisp brown buttered toast?
Uh-uh.
- You don't want any toast, then?
No.
- What about a muffin?
- Nothing.
You know the last time you had toast: 18 days ago.
11.36, Tuesday 3rd. Two rounds.
Shh!
I mean, what's the point
of buying a toaster with
artificial intelligence
if you don't like toast?
- I do like toast.
- I mean, this is my job!
- This is cruel, it's just cruel.
- I'm busy.
- Oh, you're not busy eating toast, are you?
- I don't want any!
I mean, the whole purpose of my existence is
to serve you with hot buttered scrummy toast.
If you don't want any,
then my existence is meaningless.
- Good.
- I toast, therefore I am.
Will you shut up?
(SNIFFS)
What are you doing?
- I'm reading.
- What, with your nose?
Yeah, it's a cat book. They
don't use marks, they use smells.
You run your nose along the line and all the
different smells are released, it's really good.
What a pathetic idea.
Well, yeah, unlike you, Rimmer,
my mind is open to new cultures,
new ways of looking at and doing things.
- And what does it say?
- It says, "See Dick run.
"Run, Dick, run.
"Run... home, Dick."
That's the cat equivalent of Shakespeare, is it?
Shakespeare? Who's Shakespeare?
You moron. An old playwright in the olden days.
Wilfred Shakespeare.
I'm only just starting out. This is for
three-year-olds. So, you should try it.
I'm not the slightest
bit interested in smelling
anything cats have to
say, thank you, Lister.
You don't know what you're missing.
Rimmer, there's this brilliant
one where Dick buys this ball...
this big ball... this big red ball.
It's amazing stuff.
You ought to try reading your shirt sometimes, Lister.
It's probably a novel by Victor Hugo.
Anyway, if you're interested,
Holly's spotted... Is that my shirt?
- Yeah. I borrowed it.
- What's that down the front?
That's definitely biscuit. Erm, that's custard...
That's definitely ink and,
just general sort of dirty marks.
- You can't just go through my possessions!
- Come on, you don't need them anymore.
- Because I'm dead?
- Yeah.
You're a hologram, and
holograms don't need clothes.
They're my things, Lister! Would you steal
verruca cream from a man with no feet?
I mean, how would you like, if
I stole your T-shirt, your
favorite one with the
custard stains down the front?
- I wouldn't care.
- You've got no right to go through my wardrobe.
OK, OK.
(SNIGGERS) You keep your underpants
on coat-hangers, don't you?
That's private!
OK, Rimmer, OK. Take the shirt back.
I don't want it. It's ruined.
You've sweated in it.
- If you don't want the shirt, what DO you want, Rimmer?
- Just keep out of my things, alright?
- OK, OK. What's Holly spotted?
- An unidentified object.
- You mean a rock.
- It might not be.
- They're always rocks.
- Mostly they're rocks, I agree,
but maybe this one's different.
Rimmer, there's nothing out there, you know,
there's nobody out there.
No alien monsters, no Zargon warships,
no beautiful blondes with beehive hairdos,
who say, "Show me some more
of this Earth thing called 'kissing'."
There's just you, me, the Cat and a lot of
floating of smegging rocks. That's it. Finito.
Lister, if there's no-one out there, what's the point in existence? Why are we here?
- Beats me. You want some toast?
(HOLLY) Arnold, the unidentified
object is now in visual range.
All right, Holly. I'm on my way.
Ow...
Aow! Nice jump. Hey!
Smooth with a capital "smoo".
OK, time to get out the food detector.
Food, this way. Aow! Ooh!
Yeah, yeah! This way.
Aow! This way!
Ah, you. Where have you been?
Investigating. Investigating this,
investigating that.
- General investigation.
- General investigation, eh?
- Ah, splendid!
- Thank you.
- Keep it up.
- OK.
Fine. Well, if you'll just excuse me...
Hey! You can't have my shiny
thing! I found it. It's my shiny thing.
What are you drivelling about?
This is my shiny thing and if you try
and take it off me, I may have to eat you.
It's a yo-yo, you modo.
It does two amazing things.
One, you have the shiny thing at
the top, and the string down below
- or - and this is the clever part...
- Hmm!
You have the string at the top and the shiny
thing down here where the string used to be.
(LAUGHS SARCASTICALLY)
Wowee! You haven't the slightest clue
what it's for, do you?
Sure I do, grease stain.
You hold the shiny thing in one hand and you go...
Aow! The string's moving!
Hey! Stop that thing! Catch that string!
- Where is it?
- It's in scoop range, Arnold.
It's a pod!
Holly, bring it in!
Yeah, yeah, yeah! I'm back!
Feeling good! Feed me.
Cat, hi! I haven't seen you
for ages. Where've you been?
- Investigating.
- Got you some crispies.
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
I read that book you gave me,
y'know, It's got a brilliant ending.
I could hardly believe me nose.
Forget that. Got you this. The one
you asked about? The Holy Book?
Oh, great!
(SNIFFS)
Hey! Pictures!
Yeah! That's a cat thing.
You see, sometimes in a book,
we have a drawing of something
that is happening in the story,
and we call them "pictures".
Yeah, yeah, we have pictures, too.
Hey, you monkeys are smarter than I thought!
- This is me!
- No, that's not you. That's Cloister.
He was the father of the cat people. He lived years ago at The Beginning.
- Who's that?
- That's Him frozen in time.
No, that's me! I was sent to
stasis, that's what "frozen in time" is.
- He did that to save Frankenstein.
- Look, Frankenstein was my pet cat!
Look, Lister, Cloister. Cloister, Lister! See?
Listen, you stupid monkey,
Cloister's another name for God!
That's what I'm saying. I am your God.
OK. Turn this into a woman.
- I'm serious.
- So am I!
Look, Frankenstein was my pet cat, right?
- Hm-mmm.
And she was pregnant. I got put into
suspended animation. I was supposed
to be there for 18 months, but I
didn't get out for three million years.
- You oversleep? So do I.
- No!
I'm saying is, that over those three million years,What I'm saying is that over those three million years
your entire race of people evolved from my pet cat.
Ah, I gotta go now, man,
but let's do lunch some time.
I'll put it in my diary. "12.30, lunch with God."
Formal dress, you know what I'm saying?
It is true, you know.
Yeah? Then I gotta ask you The Utlimate Question: If you're God, why that face?
- What's wrong with my face?
- What's wrong with your face?
It's upside down and inside out,
that's what's wrong with it. Aow!
- Holly?
- Yes, Dave?
If I give you my cat dictionary,
can you translate this for me?
(HOLLY) I'll give it a go, Dave.
(TOASTER) Why you always asking him, I'll do it.
You're a toaster.
Ehh. I was thinking of packing it in.
It's turning me into something I don't like.
- I'm not a moaner by nature, you know?
- No, by nature, you're a toaster.
It just strikes me that there might be
something more, something greater
something unimaginably
more splendid than heating bread.
- Lister, it's arrived!
- What has?
- The UO! It's a pod!
- Where?
- The observation room.
- Yes!
No point in running, Lister.
It's mine. I found it. I've got bagsies.
He's such a child, that boy.
- Is it safe, Holly?
- Yes, Dave.
Lister, no point in running. I found it and it's mine.
Calm down. Dead people
can have heart attacks, too, y'know?
What is it?
I don't know, it's obviously
some sort of alien capsule,
and clearly they're intelligent, Lister.
Ah, the chance to meet an intelligent
life form after 18 weeks alone with you.
OK, Mr Intelligence, what are those markings?
I don't know! I don't speak alien, you gimboid.
(SATISFIED SIGH)
What are you doing, Lister! We don't know if it's safe, it's quarantined!
You might get some squiggly
slimy thing stuck to your face!
Of course it's safe. Come in. Come on...
(GASPS)
Ha-ha-ha (!) Tee-hee (!)
All right, Lister, we'll play it your way.
But don't think you're
coming out of there,
you're in there for a
month, you're in quarantine.
- What did you say, Rimmer?
- Why do you never do what I tell you, eh?
Don't you think there's a shining
good reason why I'm your superior.
- Yeah, you've been with the company for 15 years...
- No it's not!
- ... and I've been with them for eight months
No, it's not! It's because
I'm better than you.
Better trained, better equipped, better...
Better. Just... just better.
That must mean that the rest
of the crew were better than you, then.
No, it doesn't it means... I'm not going to let
you bait me, Lister. This is far too important.
Just you wait here, keep that door closed
till I get back with the Skutters. Tyke.
Oh, Rimmer's such a smeghead, man.
Hey, hang on a minute.
Give me an R...
Give me an E...
Give me a D...
Give me a Red Dwarf garbage pod!
Holly? Did Rimmer never work
in waste disposal?
No, Dave.
It's one of our Red Dwarf garbage pods
with, like, the writing burnt off in places.
- Why didn't you tell him?
- Well, it's a laugh, innit?
(RIMMER) After intensive investigation, comma,
of the markings on the alien pod, comma,
it has become clear, comma,
to me, comma,
that we are dealing, comma,
with a species of awesome intellect, colon.
(HOLLY) Good. Perhaps they might be able
to give you a hand with your punctuation.
(RIMMER) Shut up.
(SNORING)
Lights.
Lister, are you awake? Lister?
Lister?
(SCREAMS) Lister!
- Are you awake?
- Yeah, yeah.
Yeah, I couldn't sleep either.
- It's the excitement.
- What excitement?
- The alien excitement!
- Rimmer, it's garbage.
You can scoff, Lister. That's nothing new, they laughed
at Galileo. They laughed at Edison.
- They laughed at Columbo.
- Who's Columbo?
The man with the dirty mac
who discovered America.
- What makes you think these aliens exist?
- They must do, Lister.
There's so many things that are strange and odd,
so many things we don't have an explanation for.
Like why do intelligent
people buy cinema hot dogs?
D'you mean that sort of
weird and mysterious thing?
No, Lister, I mean like the pyramids.
How did they move such massive piece of stone
without the aid of modern technology?
They had massive whips, Rimmer.
Massive, massive whips.
All right, then,
the Bermuda Triangle.
Go on, explain that one.
You know all the answers.
No, I agree there, that
is a genuine mystery.
How did a song like that ever
become a hit, it defies all reason.
I just don't know why I bother. I'd get more sense
out of a squashed hedgehog.
Lister, don't you ever stop and wonder? Why are we here?
What's the grand purpose?
Why does it have to be such a big deal?
Why can't it be like, human
beings are a planetary disease,
like Earth's got German measles
or facial herpes, right?
That's why all the other planets
give us such a wide berth.
It's like, "Don't go near Earth,
it's got human beings on it, they're contagious."
So, you're saying, Lister,
you're an intergalactic, pus-filled coldsore?
At last, Lister, we agree on something.
What do you believe in, then? Do you believe in God?
God, certainly not! What a preposterous thought!
I believe in aliens, Lister.
Oh, right, fine. Something sensible at last.
Aliens, Lister, with technology so far in advance
of our own, we can't even begin to imagine.
That's not difficult.
Mankind hasn't even got the technology to
create a toupee that doesn't get big laughs.
Aliens, Lister, who can give me a real body.
Ooh, I can't wait to see your face
in the morning, I really can't.
And nor I yours, Lister, when that pod opens
and from it emerges a beautiful alien woman
with long green hair and six breasts.
Six breasts?!
Imagine making love
to a woman with six breasts!
Imagine making love to a woman.
Good morning. How can I help you?
- Buongiorno. Um, give me breakfast.
- What would you like?
Er... chicken vindaloo and a milkshake.
- What flavour milkshake?
- Um... beer.
(MACHINE HUMS)
(HOLLY) Morning, Dave.
I've finished your translation.
- Who's Cloister? Is it me?
- Yes, Dave. The cats have made you their god.
Hey! Working-class kid makes good!
Your plan to buy a farm
on Fiji and open a hot-dog
and doughnut diner has
become their image of heaven.
- What?
- "And Cloister spake,
"Lo, I shall lead you to Fuchal
And there we shall open a temple of food,
wherein shall be sausages and savoury
doughnuts and all manner of bountiful things.
"Yea, even individual sachets of mustard.
"And those who serve
shall wear hats of great majesty,
"Yea, though they be made of coloured cardboard
and have humorous arrows through the top"
Does it say what happened
to the rest of the cats?
Holy wars, there were thousands of years
of fighting, Dave, between the two factions.
- What two factions?
- Well, the ones who believed the hat should be red,
and those who believed the hats should be blue.
Do you mean, they had a war over whether
the doughnut diner hats were red or blue?
Yeah. Most of them were killed fighting
about that. It's daft really, innit?
You're not kidding.
They were supposed to be green.
- Go on, Hol
- Well finally, they called a truce,
built two arks and left Red Dwarf
in search of Fuchal
But there's no such place as Fuchal, it's Fiji.
I mean, how are they supposed to find it?
"And Cloister gave to Frankenstein
the sacred writing,
"saying, 'Those who have wisdom
will know its meaning."
"And it was written thus:
seven socks, one shirt..."
That's my laundry list!
I lined the cat's basket with me laundry list!
The Blue Hats thought it was a star chart
leading to the Promised Land.
well, it wasn't. It was my dirty washing.
What happened next, Hol?
"And the ark that left first
followed the sacred signs,
"and lo, they flew straight
into an asteroid.
"And the righteous in the second ark flew ever onward,
knowing they were indeed righteous."
This is terrible. Holy wars. Killing.
They're just using religion as an excuse
to be extremely crappy to each other.
So, what else is new?
I'm not interested.
They killed each other over which
coloured cardboard hats to wear.
- I'm not interested.
- Don't you think it's amazing?
You know what happened to people
who didn't eat hot dogs on Fuchal Day?
They were stoned to
death by stale doughnuts.
Lister, what do you want me to say,
"Congratulations, you're God"?
I'm talking about the suffering. People died.
I mean cats... Cat people died.
You've just come here to rub my nose in it.
I could've been God,
y'know, given a different start
in life, given the lucky
show-biz break you had.
- I don't want to be a god. That's the point!
- Vomitisation! I don't believe it!
"I'm God, but it's a bit of a drag, actually"
Come on!
I'm not a god! I've just been... misquoted.
Lister, for my money, anyone
who goes around reading meaning
into any old gobbledygook
deserves everything they get.
I mean, if I'd had eight socks on
my laundry list instead of seven.
or if I owned more than one pair of
underpants, they might've have been safe.
I just wish I could meet them
and explain and apologise.
Well, that would look
spectacular, wouldn't it, Lister!
God returns in
all his splendour,
and says, "Sorry, it's all been a total cock-up!"
- I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to become their god!
- I didn't ask to be killed.
Life's a bitch. Now smeg off, I'm busy.
They just made stuff up. I'm supposed
to have given them five sacred laws.
I've broken four of them meself.
I'd have broken the fifth,
but there's no sheep on board.
- Bye-bye.
- I mean, what sort of holy writ is this, Rimmer...?
- "It is a sin to be cool."
- LOOK, I'M SICK OF HEARING ABOUT THESE STUPID CATS!
MY CONCERNS ARE SLIGHTLY
MORE MEANINGFUL THAN
WHAT STUPID, SMEGGING
CARDBOARD HAT I'M WEARING
I'm trying to decipher this!
This is science, laddie! You can smirk, Lister
but I believe the Quagaars...
- Quagars?
- Quagaars! It's a name I made up.
Double A, actually. I believe the Quagaars
have the technology to give me a new body!
- Never mind this tot, where's the Cat?
- Tot?!
- Tot.
- Tot?!
- Tot!
Tot?!
We'll soon see how totty it is, laddie!
The quarantine period's nearly up!
Bastard!
Cat? Cat?
(HONKS HORN)
Holly, where's the Cat?
He's no longer in my
supervision field, Dave.
He's gone down to the cargo decks?
I lost him as he entered Supply Pipe 28.
Cat? Cat!
Cat! Come on, Cat.
Meow! Come on, kitty, kitty!
Cat, come on. The crispies are getting warm.
Come on. Cat, come on.
Aow! Yeah! Yeah-yeah-yeah!
Hey, fellas! Yes, sir. I'm back!
Feeling good! Feed me.
You're always leaving me. Where do you go?
Investigating! See, I have these feet...
- I'm dying.
- I'm telling you about my feet.
- My investigating feet.
- Don't you hear me? I'm dying!
Yeah, but I'm talking about my feet.
Why should you listen to me,
a blind old priest that's lost his faith?
I'm not listening to you. I'm
trying to tell you about my feet.
- What do you care?
- I don't care!
You're the one who's doing the dying, not
me. Why should I let it spoil my evening?
Cat?
Ooh, when I get you,
I'm going to turn you into a kebab.
Holly? Can you still hear me?
Cat?
Here.
Burn the sacred hat.
That's a fearsome hat.
Burn it, butn it! It's a symbol of the lies.
- It's burnt.
- All my life I've served a lie.
Because you're not there, Cloister, are you?
You've never been there!
YOU DON'T EXIST!
- Who's that?
- It is I, Cloister!
- Who is it, boy?
- I told ya, it's me. It's Cloister. I've returnerethed.
Is it him? Is it truly him?
- Does he look like a king?
- A king?! Yeah!
Is he wearing the doughnut
and the golden sausage?
Yeah!
Then it truly is him!
Oh, I've failed you, Cloister.
All these years, I kept my faith.
I wore the Holy Custard Stain
and the Sacred Gravy Marks.
I renounced coolness,
and chose the righteous path of slobbiness.
But in the end, I failed you.
Why didn't you go on the arks
with the rest of the cats?
They left us behind. The sick and the lame.
Left us to die.
But then the boy was born
to the cripple and the idiot.
- What idiot?
- Your father, boy.
- My father was a jellybrain?
- Yes, that's why he ate his own feet.
I did wonder.
As one by one we died, my faith died also.
You tested me, Cloister, and I failed you.
Oh, no, you didn't fail, old man. You passed.
I'm giving you...
I'm giving you an A+ distinction.
You mean, there's a
place for me on Fuchal?
A place? Got your own bathroom,
en suite, cork floors,
your own barbecue on the patio,
double-glazing, a phone and everything!
Oh! My hat!
I've burned my sacred hat!
No, you haven't!
A miracle!
This is the happiest day of my...
(GROANS)
Did I ever tell you about my feet?
My investigating feet?
Once upon a time, there was an old man...
Well? Are you ready for this, Rimmer?
Open it! Open it!
- Well? What's there?
- Are you sure you're ready for this, Rimmer?
Yes! Come on, you gimboid!
Incredible! A stupendous moment
in my own personal history!
The perfectly preserved remains
of a Quagaar warrior!
Yeah, right, Rimmer. Absolutely.
They must have looked something like...
a roast chicken.
# It's cold outside
# There's no kind of atmosphere... #
(RIMMER) It's a garbage pod!
# I'm all alone, more or less... #
(RIMMER) It's a smegging garbage pod!
# 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 #
