("RED DWARF" THEME)
One day in this lousy, stinking penal colony,
and I'm cracking up.
Everyone's so deranged and brutal,
it's frightening. This afternoon I was so depressed,
- I went to see the social worker.
- Was he any help?
Not really. He beat me up.
He said I was a whining nancy boy
with girly white legs,
then pummelled me repeatedly with his book
"Showing Compassion to Inmates".
- I thought social workers were supposed to be nice.
- In the end, I was so shellshocked,
- I went to see the priest and explained everything.
- What did he say?
He said I was a whining baby
who was missing his mum.
Then he beat me up, too.
You can still see the crucifix marks
in the back of my head.
It's 'cause we're in G tower.
All the staff are mad here.
One guys was saying though, said as a reward for good
behaviour, they move you to the luxury block on D wing.
Everything's really nice there. They even shampoo the rats -
groom their tails and everything.
I must look it up
in my "Michelin Guide to Penal Hellholes".
I'm sure it probably gets the full five slop-out buckets.
They've got everything. TVs, music centres.
They've even got a trouser press.
Since when were you interested
in a trouser press?
You care less about your appearance
than a member of the Dutch Royal Family.
No, I was thinking, if we got moved to a cell
with a trouser press,
we could make cheese toasties.
What's this?
"Floor 13 information pack.
"If privacy is required when using toilet,
please wear blindfold."
What's the book?
"Gideon's Bible."
He follows me everywhere, that bloke.
I was staying in a hotel once -
he left his bible behind there as well.
Two years later, another hotel,
dozy git left it behind again.
(SIGHS)
Everything is ruined. My career's over.
I've no goal, no hope, no life.
Yeah, but how come that's
starting to get you down now?
Maybe you haven't noticed, but we're
gonna spend two years in the brig?
Two years with the
scum of the universe -
hardened criminals, deranged droids -
people so unbalanced and debauched,
they couldn't even get elected as president
of the United States. We've got to escape.
No, there's security cameras everywhere.
You know that mad geezer with the one eye
and the funny tic? He said it was impossible.
Well, he's bound to say that, he was the warden.
If only I'd hired a smarter lawyer instead of the
brain-dead, pompous, stupid-haired git I ended up with.
You defended yourself!
Yes, and I don't need reminding of that,
thank you very much.
- Two years in the Tank.
- Two years.
How did I get into this mess?
I think the blindfold's supposed to be for me.
This is the diary of Captain F. Hollister
of the mining ship Red Dwarf.
Several of my crew are presently being tried
for crimes against the Space Corps.
- Are you familiar with the mind scan?
- We are familiar with the mind scan, sir.
You understand it will involve the administration
of psychotropic drugs, that is, drugs which affect
your mental state, making this process possible.
If you accept, say "Aye".
- (ALL) Aye.
- Please sign the consent forms,
and seal them into the envelopes provided.
We reconvene at 10 a.m. tomorrow.
To test the veracity of their defence, unknown to them
I've had them placed in artificial reality
where their actions can be observed.
("Little Green Bag" by George Baker)
Right now, they believe they're escaping,
but we just want to observe what they do.
So that means that if anyone happens
to mention any special agreements
that they've entered into... Could you excuse me?
I think I've... left the iron on.
Rimmer, one of the least able of my crew...
..has started acting very suspiciously,
being incredibly insightful and efficient.
I suspect he may have access
to the crew's confidential files.
We also believe he may in possession of a virus
which makes him incredibly attractive
to the opposite sex.
This is obviously a remarkable serum, and as a
responsible senior officer of the Space Corps,
it is imperative I gain possession
of this solution and use some myself.
Oh, my God, you are sexy!
So very, very sexy!
Yesterday, he was observed
injecting his groin with anaesthetic -
something we believe he
did to regain some self control.
- Hi.
- (ALL) Hi.
I also suspect someone, possibly Lister has given gave
Rimmer access to the crew's confidential files.
He's using this information to blackmail
his way up the chain of command.
It's sickening, it's unforgivable,
but it's a technique that can work.
I should know. I used the same method myself
to become captain.
If the crew discover I'm really
just Dennis the doughnut boy, I'm finished.
I will continue to observe Lister's actions in AR,
and expect my suspicions to be confirmed.
Report ends.
(MUSIC)
This is ground control to Midget 3.
You don't appear to have flight clearance.
- Please state your name and clearance code.
- Ground control, this is...
- Major Tom!
- Yeah, Major Tom!
Major Tom, what is your clearance code
and pilot number?
I'm sorry. I left all my details
in my other pants.
I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.
- Wow!
- Without take-off clearance,
- I can't permit you to fly.
- I can handle this thing OK. I'm good.
I'm better than good - I'm smooth.
With a capital smoo...
Well, that's as maybe, but I need a
little proof that you can fly that thing.
Fly? I can make this thing dance!
(CLATTER)
(UPBEAT JAZZ-FUNK)
Wow!
You free Saturday?
I am now.
Holy schmoly! I've got a date
in three days' time.
- I better start getting ready.
- You're going nowhere, man.
We are outta here!
- Thornton.
- No one's allowed in there, Rimmer. Beat it.
Angus Thornton - aged 36, middle name Lionel.
Inside leg measurement 29,
neck size 16, circumcised.
- How do you know all this?
- Jazz fan.
Good credit rating.
Once admitted to hospital totally naked
and attached to... (WHISPERS)
That's a vicious, slanderous, filthy, stinking,
slanderous lie that you just made up.
- Who told you?
- Want all the crew to know?
- Take a cigarette break. Five minutes.
- OK, I'm going.
I'm lighting up already. I'm going.
Now all we've got to is get a bearing on those damn Nanos,
we're cruising down Freedom Boulevard.
(KRYTEN) Getting something now.
(LISTER) Good.
We didn't need that confidential files
scam I cooked up with Rimmer after all,
all that stuff I gave him on the Captain. The
double-dealing, two-faced rat.
Find all references to the agreement
between Lister and Rimmer...
..and remove.
(COMPUTER) All references removed,
(SIGHS)
- What's that? Something weird just happened.
- Yeah, I felt it, too.
- There it was again.
- And again.
Oh, my!
- What is it?
- I don't believe I'm here.
I have that feeling all the time.
I have it. I believe we're in some kind of computer
manipulated psychotropically induced mind state.
You took the words right out of my mouth.
You mean this is our trial?
Our escape is our trial?
The envelopes - when we signed
the consent forms.
There must've been some
kind of drug gluey bit we licked.
So you mean, nothing's been real since then? Blue Midget,
the ground controller - none of that was real?
You mean after all this,
I still haven't got a date? Damn!
Another year when I have
to send a Valentine card to my hand!
This is good, this is good. It proves we're innocent.
Everything we've said and done - escaping, trying to
track down the Nanos, it corroborates our story.
But you ARE guilty, guys. Who are you fooling?
I don't know why I said that.
(BLEEPING)
We're being framed.
What a minute. I just said, "We're being framed," and suddenly...
It just happened again. Everything we say is being...
Bananas.
If I say who I think is responsible for this,
it'll get cut, too - so i'm not going to, but it's him.
I know it's him, you can bet on it, and if I ever catch up
with him, I'm gonna cut off both his...
...a blunt knife.
- So, how do we stop it?
- If we're plugged into AR software,
there must be a trapdoor built into the
program somewhere to allow escape.
(SQUEAKING)
- You mean, to help you get out if the program freezes?
- Precisely. There'll be a cryptic clue around somewhere.
something like a trapdoor or exit.
I got it!
- There's a button here with E-11-T on it.
- And?
11 is Xl in Roman numerals.
E-XI-T. Exit!
HE got that?
I think it proves without a
shadow of a doubt this is not reality.
(SQUEAKING LAUGHTER)
Press it.
Now where are we?
Well somehow, we've wound up in the screen saver.
We need to locate a power source
so we can switch the AR machine off.
Power source? Well, there has to be a clue
round here somewhere.
Maybe it's in this ice hole.
(ROARS)
Bleugh!
There's some food in here.
- So?
- Including a bottle of ketchup.
- So?
- Power ketchup, get it?
- What's to get?
- Power sauce!
- Pity he's only smart when he's made out of Plasticine.
- Press it.
Ooh.
(TAPPING KEY)
You backstabbing, weaselly smegger!
You were trying to frame us!
Listy, just the man.
I know at first glance it may look bad...
God, he's gorgeous!
- Oh, hold her back, please. No more.
- Oh, those nostrils.
They're driving me crazy.
I've simply got to have him.
Hold her back,
Kryten. Help me!
Put the Lift on hold.
I want his babies!
The luck virus. You still got it? Take some,
It'll cure the virus
and restore you both to normal.
Oh, God, that's so embarrassing!
- What now, Hol?
- No time to lose.
You should head for the nearest one of these...
- You mean a moon?
- Exactly.
He's right, we can regroup there
and continue our search for the Nanos.
What about me?
Well, suggest we persuade you to come with us,
sir, or failing that, we bludgeon you unconscious.
Him come with us? Are you out of your mind?!
That's so dumb, I should have said it!
Mr Rimmer has had access to the confidential files, sir.
He knows all the security codes.
Without him, our chances
of escape are as remote
as meeting an interesting hairdresser
called Kylie.
Why would I want to take off with you lot?
what have you got to offer?
Well, I'm very good at laundry, sir.
I do a damn fine moon impression.
I'm so gorgeous, there's a six-month waiting list
for birds to suddenly appear every time I'm near.
You know what they say, sir -
if you've got three good friends, you're a rich man.
- Only poor people say that.
- Forget it. He's not gonna change his mind.
He's right, time is of the essence.
The crew will know we're out of AR now and
are probably sending someone to investigate.
So, what's it to be?
Look, if I leave, I'm always going to be a failure. The
shame of it - every time I have a boiled egg,
knowing I don't even outrank
the toastie soldiers.
- I want to be an officer. A man of honour.
- Officers aren't men of honour, they're head cases.
Those induction pranks
they play when you qualify!
(SIGHS) I've dreamt of that proud day
for years now -
as I wake up after the celebration party
and find my pubes are orange
and I'm handcuffed to a goat.
And most hilarious of all, discovering
someone superglued me
to the rear of one of those rabbits that
whizzes round greyhound tracks.
Ah! Those mad japes they play on you.
I can't miss all that.
That's not gonna happen for you now.
Just like it didn't happen for the other Rimmer.
We're giving you a second chance at life,
and an opportunity for you to screw it up
in a new and original way.
You'll get you're own seat in the cockpit
and you'll be in control of at least five buttons.
Krytie, don't be pathetic. He's hardly going to be impressed
at the prospect of being in charge of a few buttons!
Five, you say?
No more vending machine maintenance.
No more getting heckled by drinks dispensers.
That's five whole buttons?
A new start, a new life.
You'll wake up every morning, you'll wanna leap out of bed.
Well, in your case, Mr Lister, that's because your
sheets are covered in pointy poppadom shards.
Tell me more about these buttons.
Are some illuminated?
What do you say, man? The old Rimmer
was a vital member of the team.
He performed essential functions
we've never replaced.
What did he do?
Dunno, really.
He, um... He was, um...
Head of Safety.
Head of Safety? That's a hell of a title.
What did he actually do?
You sort out danger. You sort out peril. Then
you advise on the best way to run away from it.
Head of Safety, five buttons.
I'm in!
He's in? Let's celebrate!
I'll crack open a bottle of cyanide.
This is ground control.
You don't appear to have flight clearance.
- You're the ground controller?
- Please state your name and clearance code.
Reality sucks!
Your name's Reality Sucks? (LAUGHS)
One second, Mr Sucks.
Just checking my clearance list.
- Look, just do another smegging dance and we'll go.
- Dance?!
With her, I'd have trouble walking!
I'm powering up.
Come back, Mr Sucks! Come back!
There's nothing on the scanners for
a 1,000-mile radius. We're in the clear, guys!
(ALL) Yes!
- I don't believe we are, ma'am.
- What's up?
According to the supplies
inventory, we're frighteningly low on...
Oh, and everyone was so
happy... I can barely say it out loud.
What are we frighteningly
low on? Oxygen?
Worse. Fabric softener!
Suggest we chart a course
to the nearest derelict - the SS Einstein -
before everyone's woollens get all bibbly-bobbly.
Einstein? Wasn't he the dude
who discovered America?
- Einstein discovered the theory of relativity.
- Where did he discover it?
Was it fossilised and stuff?
The theory of relativity is...
- What is the theory of relativity?
- Yeah, what is it, Hol?
Bit busy at the moment, Dave.
Just tell us what it is in, sort of, simple layman's terms.
It's a theory.
Yeah, but what is it?
Oh, you want it more complicated
than that, do you?
- What does it mean?
- It's the theory of relativity.
You know - it's a theory
you only tell your relatives.
It's so sad. Holly's supposed
to have an IQ of 6,000.
Now, I doubt he could even spell IQ.
If I'm so stupid, if I'm computer-senile,
explain this then.
Explain what?
You can't, can you?!
Explain what?
It's no good stalling, trying to buy time.
If I'm so stupid,
explain how was I able to recreate a new set
of Nanobots and get them to resurrect the crew?
(ALL) What?
I thought you'd be pleased.
But why?
My job is to keep Dave sane.
True, I'm not that good at it, but I do my best.
That's why I create these little
diversions to keep him occupied.
But Hol, we could have wound up
doing two years in the brig!
You still could. I've just worked it out.
We're still in AR.
(ALL) What?
In computer jargon,
my plans have all gone tits up.
- I was out-thought and outmanoeuvred,
- Who by?
By a superior intellect.
You mean the hand dryer in the
men's toilets has outsmarted you again?
No. By that other version of me -
the one on Red Dwarf. This is still our trial
Our trial? Why didn't you say?
If I'd known, I'd have worn a tie!
Well, for me. Lister's Nanobots story is corroborated. They were trying to track 'em down.
Their actions in the psychotropically
induced scenario bear that out.
I agree, Frank.
I also believe we died and were indeed
resurrected - again, borne out by their actions.
So, original charges - all innocent.
But it's equally apparent that they used classified
information from the crew's confidential files
to their own ends.
I suspected Rimmer had access
the moment he walked in to my office
and began acting incredibly
smart and knowledgeable.
What a giveaway!
That's why I got him to lick one of the psychotropic
envelopes when I invited him to dinner.
So, abusing classified information.
That's a fresh charge.
And on that, they're all guilty.
- That's a statutory sentence.
- I know.
Two years in the brig.
So instead of the original charge and a possible
sentence of two years in the brig,
they've been found guilty on another charge
and got an entirely different
two years in the brig.
That's gonna be a great comfort to them.
I'll bring them round and break the news.
- This is reality? But how can we be sure?
- Why do we care?
Nothing makes any sense
no matter where we are.
Look, everything was real
before we licked the envelopes, right?
Then we conked out and got carted off to AR.
Before we licked anything...
Before we licked anything,
I lent you my Holly watch.
So if this is reality, I should still be wearing it.
Oh, yeah. This is reality, all right.
I'd recognise it anywhere.
Also, sir. Shouldn't you have the viruses? Again, you found
them on Starbug before we licked the envelopes.
The luck virus.
Maybe we can get out of this mess.
I'll have that. The lab boys
are gonna want to run tests on it.
(CAPTAIN) Where's the other one?
I'm afraid I lost it, sir.
Goddammit, Rimmer! I wanted that...
I mean, the lab boys wanted it
to er, test it too. Damn!
- This is all your fault.
- My fault?
You betrayed us over that confidential file scam.
- Stole the sexual magnetism virus.
- You lied to us.
And generally behaved like a self-serving,
scum-sucking, ruthless little rat bag!
And that's bad?
(CAPTAIN) It is the finding of this inquiry that you have been found guilty
of contravening Act 21 of the Space Federation.
Before sentencing, you will have medicals so
you can be assigned appropriate prison status.
I've buggered this up a bit, haven't I?
Welcome to the Tank.
# 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
# [ 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 #
