- In fact, it's better than nice, it's fantastic. - Isn't it great?
- It's really great. - Really really great.
Are we eating the same stuff?
I don't know why I make the effort. No one appreciates the hours I put into food prep.
My fingers are practically worn down to the endoskeleton.
- Is there any ketchup? - Any what?
Ketchup. I just thought it could do with a bit of ketchup. Just a dollop?
- Ketchup? - Oh, my God.
- You want ketchup? - Um... brown!
Not tomato! Brown! It's not like I've got no class.
With lobster? You want brown ketchup?
It's really nice, Kryts, but you know me! I just thought it could do with a bit of a pep up.
I can't believe it. I simply cannot b...
Well done, bud! Now we'll have to do the washing up.
He's literally blown his top! Cat, can you go and get a spare head?
How come I have to do everything around here?
I never get a second to myself! "Cat do this, Cat do that." What am I? A dog?
There. I think that's it. Boot him up.
- You're sure you know what you're doing? - Hey.
Ketchup? With lobster?! You want...
I thought you said you knew what you were doing!
No, I just said "Hey".
If you'd let me finish the whole sentence, it would've been "Hey! No, I don't."
- Any luck? - We've been back and forth through his core program
and as far as we can tell nothing's wrong.
- Maybe worth testing it with one of his spare heads? - What spare heads?
We've blown them all out.
Look at it. Have you ever seen so many blackheads outside the staffroom of a fried chicken franchise?
We managed to save his RAM chips, so at least we've got his personality on disk, but that's about it.
Life without a head. That's gonna put a real crimp on his lifestyle.
- I mean, what can you do without a head? - Apart from being you? Hardly anything.
We're gonna have to get him another one somehow.
I should've been looking out for him. How could I let this happen?
When was the Centauri built? Maybe they had a mechanoid service unit?
- Think. Any clues when it was built? - Which century?
It had those big crystalline turbine drives. I'd say 21st or 22nd century...
maybe even 23rd or 24th.
At the outside, 25th, 26th or 27th. But don't hold me to it.
Why are you asking his advice?
Let's at least ask someone who's going to give us a slightly more intelligent opinion...
Hello, wall! What do you think?
Hang on. Hang on.
- What are you doing? - Logging onto their mainframe.
If there's a Divadroid signature on their supplies inventory,
then it's possible there's some mech-heads around there somewhere.
Maybe 29th.
Look!
Hey... Simulant, probably rogue. Let's get the smeg outta here!
Wait!
(LISTER) Hmm, you smell good. (CAT) Thanks!
- They're all missing their primers. - Well, this Johnny won't help us.
Simulants hate everything human or humanoid. In fact, anything beginning with "hu".
Probably hate the third largest city in Vietnam, then!
- Why's that? - Because it's called Hue, dummy.
Actually, it's pronounced "hwah" but if I'd said "hwah" it wouldn't have been as funny.
Any navigation conference, anywhere, they would be in the aisles with a quip like that.
Probably trying to get out the building before you quipped again.
Well, the point I was trying to make was that Sims hate humans but they don't hate Gelfs.
- But we're not Gelfs. - We could be.
- This is nuts! - We look great! What are you talking about?
- This is never gonna work. - Achachachachach ach-ach?
Hachachachach! Achachach!
- You can't speak Gelf. - Neither can the Sim!
We'll just do an impression of you first thing in the morning and we'll be fine. Come on, boy.
(LISTER) This is so demeaning. I feel like a piece of meat!
There's someone up there! Hachachachach! Achachach!
Achachachachach ach-ach-ach?
It's worse than the Chronic Catarrh Sufferers' annual outing!
- Achachachachach? - After spare mech-heads, eh?
Human! Lovely with a bit of mint sauce! How about a trade?
We ain't selling, OK? Fuel, supplies, anything, but not the human.
- Achachachachach! - I was just telling him. No deal.
- Achachachachach! - Like she says, no deal.
- Achachachach! - You tell him, bud-babe!
No deal! You got that?
So... you speak Earth, eh?
Ach.
Now... Tails, you can have the mech-heads for free.
- Heads, I take the human. - Hey, wait a minute!
It's tails. The heads are yours.
And here are the primers.
Now, how about a toast, eh?
To Simulants, the greatest droids in the universe!
But never trust 'em, eh? Cheers!
Ah! (LAUGHS)
- Oh, we've been set up! - But how?
He must have had a sidekick. He kept us talking while his mate ransacked the ship!
Kryten!
They've taken his RAM chip too.
Little job for you, Able. Looks like a negadrive blowback.
- Oh, wow! Another mech. - Yeah, fix him ready for market
or I'll apply the electro-leads to your nipple nuts.
Fix him or get fried nipple nuts?
Erm... Er... I think I'm gonna choose the fix him option! Deal!
And hurry it up, you stupid zoney!
Is now a good time to ask about a pay rise?
I'm almost out of otrazone. I need some more.
Fix the mech first. Here's his RAM chip.
(GRUNTS)
Totally tubular!
(BLEEPS)
Goodness me! What a peculiar experience.
Thank you, Mr, er, Mr, er... What is your name?
Er, just give me a second, OK? Hmph.
I've just sent that query down to long-term memory retrieval. It'll be back in no time. Hmph.
Hang on. Here it comes. Hmmph.
Told you it would be quick. Hmmmmph.
Able. My name's Able. A-B-L-E, Able.
My name is Kryten. You're a 4000 series, too, aren't you?
Er, hang on. Won't take a tick. Hmmph!
Please, don't bother. Believe me, you are a 4000.
Well, I could check. It'd only take about 20 seconds. Hmmph.
Your serial number's 2X4C. I'm a 2X4C too! We must have the same motherboard.
Oh, then you're my bro! Hey, wow, you wanna try some otrazone?
Otrazone's dangerous and highly addictive!
I just use it every now and then, you know. It helps me get through the day.
- Well, how come you ended up here? - Er, hang on.
- Hmmmmmph! - What an irritating characteristic.
Uh! OK. The ship I was on, well, er- kind of crashed a bit.
- "Crashed a bit"? - All the crew just lay there
and they didn't talk to me any more.
After a couple of years, I figured out they must be dead.
A long time later, the Simulant guy came and picked me up.
He's a bit of a psychopathic killing machine, but he has his good side.
And he has a huge stash of otrazone! You sure you won't try some, Kryten, bro?
I am not your bro, and I do not touch otrazone! It corrupts your circuit boards!
Well, that's what people say, but where's the evidence?
Have I just said that?
Approaching the Centauri, 80 klicks and closing. Nice and easy, man.
Hang on. Their retros have started up. They've spotted us!
Look at the acceleration of that thing! They're already halfway across the sector!
The Centauri can travel at speeds that we can only dream of.
Most ice cream vans can travel at speeds we can only dream of.
We're never gonna catch them now. We've lost Kryten.
OK, turn the thrusters to maximum speed on a bearing Q-2-3 stroke J-8-0.
This is the opposite direction from Centauri, full speed!
- Precisely. - Why do we wanna do that?
- It's totally insane. - (LISTER) So why do we wanna do it, then?
The only reason I can think of is if we'd planted something on the Centauri and we knew it was gonna blow any second.
(CAT) But we haven't.
No we haven't. But explain this, if we haven't why are we in such a rush to get the hell out of here?
- (CAT) It doesn't make sense. - Exactly.
- (LISTER) Unless we really have planted a bomb on the Centauri. - Which we haven't.
So wait a minute. Even though we didn't plant a bomb,
the only thing that really explains what we're doing is if we did... which we didn't!
But we must have, because otherwise what we're doing is totally nuts!
- Exactly. - They've turned around and started tracking us!
What a fluke!
Getting an incoming. Someone's beaming on board, cargo bay!
We know about the bomb.
So we did plant a bomb! I was beginning to wonder.
Where did you hide it? Speak!
Or you'll spend the rest of the day picking bits of charred mech out of your clothing.
- Can I change into dungarees? - Hand over Kryten and we'll tell you.
Clearly I need to prove myself.
Kryten, that file in your CPU,
the one you've never been able to access.
The password is 4X2C.
Hang on, man. (GRUNTS)
It's about your creator, Kryten, Dr Mamet.
- Kryten, no! - Accessing now.
No! It can't be true.
- It can't. - The truth is in there.
That's what turned me into a zoney.
Who's next?
The cat or the woman? Choose. Heads or tails?
Heads!
Right, let's send them back to their ship and get the hell outta here before they get their smeg together!
Kryten, man, what's wrong?
You look sadder than the salad you get with a takeaway shami kebab.
- Tell me what you found out about your creator. - I can't, sir. It's too terrible.
Kryten, me and you are amigos. You've gotta tell me.
- Well, you keep secrets from me, sir. - Like what?
- What about your nickname when you were at school? - What nickname?
- I know what it was. - I don't think so, no one knows that.
Well, I'm afraid that's just not true, Fatboy. You talk in your sleep.
It was for a couple of years! 11 to 13 when I living with me gran.
She was massive. Her stockings used to rub together when she walked.
When she was in a hurry it sounded like a steam train pulling out of a station.
I started getting fat, too. It really hit home when she died.
She got knocked down by this truck, and the chalk outline guy had to go back to the car for a second piece of chalk!
I thought, "I don't want to end up like that. Double-chalker."
If you ever tell Kris or the Cat this, you're in pieces. Now tell me about your creator.
- Oh, it's so humiliating! - Tell me about Professor Mamet.
Well, she was due to marry John Warburton, a fellow bio-engineer.
He jilted her the day before their wedding, so she decided to create a droid in his image -
a pompous, ridiculous-looking, mother-hen-clucking, irascible buffoon.
- What happened to this droid? - That droid, sir, is me!
Pompous? Ridiculous-looking? Mother-hen-clucking?
Oh, yeah. I see now.
We're all John Warburton, sir, the entire 4000 series.
It was Mamet's revenge.
Well, judging from the length of your groinal attachment, you can see why she was so sad to lose him.
As part of the joke, all my negative emotions - jealousy, anger -
are stored on a special file, my negadrive.
Now, when this file gets full it blows! Just like he used to.
All your resentment's in this thing? It's so small.
Oh, don't be fooled by that, sir. This box contains the greatest concentration
of anger, jealousy and resentment outside a BAFTA awards ceremony!
So Able felt betrayed, lost all his self-esteem and turned to otrazone.
He told me. He's promised to quit.
How could Mamet have done this?
Kryten, you may have started out as a joke, but you've grown, you've changed.
Look how different you are to Able. If Mamet came in here now I bet she wouldn't even recognise you.
- I've evolved? - You bet.
I've become something that's beyond a joke?
Too right, man.
There's something coming in from the starboard bow!
- The Sim's back. He's got a lock on! - Reverse thrust. Go! Five-niner-seven.
- (BOOM) - Missed, but still locked on!
- Right, I'm taking us into that asteroid belt. - Oh, not an asteroid belt!
Is that a problem?
It sure is! Everything tips from side to side and my hair gets all messed up!
- So what do we do? Stay here and get splattered? - Rather that than me looking like Tina Turner!
- I'm taking us in. - Once we're in the belt,
we'll have to maintain ship and engine silence 'til he's convinced we're not there.
I know you're in that belt somewhere.
One little mistake... and you're mine.
(ENGINES ROAR)
The mistake is made.
What happened, man?
- I don't know! I don't know nothin'! - Get him out of here!
Leave him to me!
(ABLE CHUCKLES) I think I may have pressed the wrong button.
You have jeopardised the lives of the entire crew,
breaking the most basic, fundamental command codes!
I'm sorry. I didn't mean nothin'.
- This dude's real mad. We don't stand a chance! - I can't throw him off, nothing's working.
- I'm using every trick I know to distract him! - Pity we can't all moon out of the starboard portholes!
That always works for me!
Wait! Someone's left the ship, an escape pod!
- It's Able! - It's heading towards the Sim's ship.
Why, that slimy, double-crossing, two-faced piece of scum!
He's no brother of mine!
- He's fired something at them. - Some sort of energy field. Looks heavy.
The negadrive! He's used my negadrive energy and rerouted it through the escape pod's thrusters.
The Simulant ship is engulfed in all my negativity.
It's all hopeless! Nobody loves me!
I'm so ugly! I never get invited to parties!
I hate this ship!
I hate everything!
Able's pod just crash-landed.
He threw his life away to save us, and we hardly knew him.
With your permission, sirs, ma'am, I should like to recover the body and perform last rites.
- Do you need a hand, Kryts? - He ain't heavy, sir. He's my brother.
Great anniversary party, Kryters.
Curry World! Fan-smeggin'-tastic!
How utterly splendid!
Mine's the vindaloo, whatever that is.
Mrs Bennet, Jane, Kitty, I beg you have the omelette with the big chips.
- Curries are an acquired taste. - Oh, nonsense!
Mr Darcy didn't think Jane would enjoy French apples,
but she did, didn't you, Jane?
Now tuck in, girls!
I do declare, Mr Lister, this is most scrumptious!
Oh, Mama, it's the most succulent dish I've ever tasted!
A most meritorious venture.
(ALL SCREAM)
Curious. There must be some kind of bug in the program.
- I'm on fire! - Water!
- Somebody help me! - Don't worry, sir, I'll work on it.
# 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 #
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