(LAUGHING)
This is going to be so good.
Come on. Get a grip, get a grip.
(LAUGHING AGAIN)
It's got to be in the middle,
the middle, you metal moron.
Look, this is my vending machine
maintenance man of the month certificate
we are reframing here,
my one and only Mr April.
There's no room for sloppiness.
And you can take that look
off your face for a start.
(ROBOT JERKING)
- Where's Kryten? I need him.
- He's on holiday.
- Holiday?
- Yeah. A week off, no duties.
Just thought he needed it.
Lister, Kryten is a mechanoid,
a machine.
Machines don't go on holiday.
Who's next? The egg whisk?
Two weeks in Mauritius?
Booked him and your electric
toothbrush a double room, have you?
- He was tired.
- Tired?
What was it? Metal fatigue?
(CHUCKLING) Holiday! Where's he gone?
Erm, broom cupboard on V deck.
Really nice shelf. V deck? Why not
B deck or C deck, somewhere close?
He wanted to travel.
Didn't you read his postcard?
He's loving it. Taken his feet off,
unscrewed his head.
Eyes bobbing about
in a bowl of lens cleaner.
He's having the time of his life.
Tomatoes?
Supply decks. 200 floors.
It took me ages to get these.
I smegging hate tomatoes,
taste, texture.
Don't know why I put myself through it.
Lister, why do you eat tomatoes
when you don't like them?
- There's plenty of other things to eat.
- It's got to be tomatoes, man.
Only thing I'm allergic to.
why do you want to eat something
you're allergic to?
According to the read-outs,
we're down to our last water tank.
Only G deck left. I'm saving water.
Lister, have you ever been down
to G deck?
Seen the water tank?
There's loads of water left.
So how come only a trickle's
coming out of the taps then?
Uh, how does eating tomatoes save water?
It's coming.
(SIGHS)
Don't suppose you want
any ironing doing, do you?
I get it.
I love it when it makes
that squish sound, don't you?
You've spent hours planning this,
haven't you?
Hours, this wind-up.
Because that's exactly what it is.
Going down to the supply decks,
trawling through the crates,
getting half hysterical at the thought
of my face as you start to
iron your sneezes.
Was it really worth it, Listy?
Hours and hours and hours of planning
for eight seconds of pleasure?
Sounds like the last time you had sex.
Lister, you need to get a life.
ROBOT: Level
Level
LISTER: Close.
Not level
I thought I'd read you another book.
It's one of those stupid ones
you used to really like.
Jane Oostin?
Austin?
Orsdon?
I'm not quite sure how you pronounce it.
Sense and Sensibility.
Pray to God there's some
car chases in this one.
"The family of Dashwood had
long been settled in Sussex."
Ow!
What happened to you?
You got a minute?
(BREATHING HEAVILY)
Tell him.
I'm walking through the cargo deck,
right, minding my own damn business
when all of a sudden...
You know that big tank on G deck?
He means the water tank.
Suddenly there's a disturbance
on the surface of the tank and...
(IMITATING A SPLASH)
This massive testicle shoots up out of
the water and grabs me by the throat.
- He means "tentacle".
- I hope so.
Before I know it, I'm flying through the
air being waved about from side to side.
I'm shouting, I'm screaming,
because this thing, whatever it is,
is absolutely ruining my hair.
Next thing I know,
it pulls me down into the icy waters
and I'm shouting and screaming again
because everything I'm wearing
is Dry Clean Only.
Suddenly, I'm staring at this big eye.
It's about this big.
No, this big.
No, this big. Man, it was just...
Oh, what's the right word?
- Big?
- Exactly.
And then the beast,
because that's what it is,
opens its mouth and I realised
that's where I'm heading.
So I combed my hair and fainted.
Came to, I'm on the floor by the side
of the tank, no sign of the creature.
Oh!
- I need counselling.
- You've got that right.
So where did it go?
It didn't say
and it didn't leave a note.
- This is so weird.
- It's not that weird.
Probably can't even write.
How'd it even hold a pen
with its big testicle?
It's slithered back into the water tank,
hasn't it?
But a sea monster?
In the water tank? That's not right.
We're in deep space.
# Holiday, celebrate, holiday #
Hey! Surf boy is back from Broomtown.
What a vacation, sirs.
I can't remember the last time
I was so relaxed and utterly carefree.
There's a big monster in the water tank.
Oh my gosh!
- That's why we're down on water.
- We're down on water?
Yeah, and without water,
me and the Cat are going to die.
- Yeah.
- It's a disaster! Oh, my back!
I'm one giant tension knot.
Someone pummel my diodes.
Hey, this thing, whatever it is,
it's messing with the supply thingy
pipe stuff thing, isn't it?
Please, we're laymen.
Spare us the plumbing jargon.
The point is, we've got to get in there
and whack it.
- We've got to fritter the critter.
- Kill it? No way!
We should capture this sucker,
force it to pay my dry cleaning bills.
The point is, how do we kill it?
I mean we can't suck it out of
an air lock. we'll lose the water.
We can't mickey the water.
We'd pollute the drinking supply.
No choice.
We're going to have to go in, get it.
- Serious?
- We're going to need a diving bell,
the kind with grade-one
reinforced titanium ribs.
We're going to need diving suits,
bazookoids, mini-grenades,
laser-lancer, blasters.
And we're going to need something good
for me to read while
you're all down there.
- Classic Car Monthly or something.
- You're not coming down with us?
In spirit, I'll be down there with you.
In actuality, I'll be reading a car mag.
Well, I'd better start packing then.
Oh, I already am packed!
Don't look at me, I ain't going.
I'm still in trauma. Look at my suit.
It may not pull through.
- Find another suit. You're going.
- Hey, I'm a cat.
Nobody bosses Mr C around, buddy.
You got that, monkey boy?
Or should I explain it one more time
for your small monkey brain?
How would you like it
if I flushed the entire ship's
supply of tuna out of an airlock?
When are we leaving? You packed?
Come on, let me help you, man.
Come on, get going.
We go in two minutes.
Two minutes? Two minutes?
I need to make myself look sensational.
Make it three. And don't wear
nothing lilac or we'll clash!
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
We're hitting the water, Rimmer.
What? Oh, yeah.
- Hey, there's something out there.
- Where?
I saw something moving.
My bowels,
if you keep shouting like that.
(LISTER SIGHS)
It's gone. It's gone.
Rimmer, check the sonar.
Did you know that of all the
Jensen Interceptors ever built,
only 23 had the manual four-speed box?
- It's amazing.
- Rimmer, the sonar!
Check it, you smegger!
Is there anything down here with us?
What? No.
It's all clear, it's fine, good.
Get this, listen.
"The four-wheel drive, the FF,
identified by a measly
"four-inch stretch in the wheelbase,
had ABS in 1966."
How mad is that?
I saw something! I saw something.
I definitely saw something.
(BEEPING)
Er, chaps, bit of an update.
There appears to be something bigger
than God heading straight for you.
- What is it?
- How do I know?
It's not like a commercial airliner
with writing down the side.
Well, do something. Get us out of here.
Can't. Too scared.
Can't. Look at my hands.
You're scared? But you're not even
down here. You're safe.
Safe? I'm not safe from having to
sit here and watch my sonar screen
get covered in your
gloopy insides, am I?
I'm not safe from seeing
those terrible pictures in my head
of you being eaten alive and
never being able to get rid of them.
You just think about you, don't you?
It's always you with you, isn't it?
Sir, I've changed my eyeballs three
times and I can't see anything.
Are you sure you're not mistaken?
Gone.
It must have been a speck on the sonar.
Relax. As you were.
(SWITCHING EASY LISTENING MUSIC ON)
Oh my God.
(MUSIC STILL PLAYING)
(THUDDING)
(MUSIC STILL PLAYING)
- What was that?
- It's gone!
No, sir.
It's underneath us.
If we're really quiet,
it might think we're a rock.
(WHISPERING) Rimmer,
pull us up,
slowly and quietly.
(MUSIC STILL PLAYING)
Rimmer, are you reading me?
(MUSIC STILL PLAYING)
Sir, can you hear us?
Wait, what's that?
I can't see anything!
(GROANING)
Will you keep the noise down back there?
Can't you see I'm looking for squid?
I still can't see it.
Sir, may I make one tiny suggestion?
Releasing a firearm
in a confined titanium steel box
may not be a good mix with human tissue.
(MUSIC STILL PLAYING)
Oh my God!
(SWITCHING MUSIC OFF)
Hang on, I'm getting you out of there.
Rimmer to the rescue, as per usual.
What would these
clowns do without me, eh?
Anyone else would probably get a
medal for this, the Eagle of Valour,
the Space Knight's Cross of Honour.
I bet I don't even get a book token.
Two suits in one day, look at me!
Thanks to you, I couldn't even
get on the cover of Minger Monthly!
You're supposed to be
manning the sonar, Rimmer.
- You could have got us all killed!
- Is this about you again?
It is, isn't it? Can't you see,
right now I need some me time?
My heart is still hammering.
- I don't know how I got through that.
- You wasn't even there!
I was nearly there.
That's close enough for me.
CAT: What the hell was that thing?
well, some kind of
dimension-migrating leviathan
looking for somewhere quiet
to hibernate.
Where better than
the middle of deep space
in a universe where the
human race is virtually extinct?
It's extraordinary.
(THUDDING)
- It's gone!
- LISTER: Where?
I don't know. Probably to another
dimension to lick its...
Wait! Incoming!
What's this?
Hmm.
(IN AN EASTERN EUROPEAN ACCENT)
I bid greetings.
My name is Katerina Bartikovsky.
In past, I Red Dwarf's science officer.
Zdravstvuyte!
From now, I am senior officer.
No longer hologram
Arnold Rimmer who is bit crap.
What?
Look, sir. Confirmed.
Adjustment on command structure
essential if one day
Lister to regenerate human race, huh?
Result! You beauty!
why does mainframe
computer not function?
Lister left a bath running
in the officers' quarters.
We didn't find out about it
for nearly nine years.
Then one night, it was a Tuesday,
the floor gave way and nearly
two million gallons of water
fell through the ship.
Not a nice way to be woken.
One minute you're lying
in your bed snoozing,
the next you're being washed down
a corridor at 80 knots per hour.
The skutters still haven't
finished drying him out.
Have skutters more pressing duties?
Duties that distract
them from these tasks?
- Is this you?
- No.
(EXCLAIMS IN DISGUST)
The place is a mess.
- What has mech been doing?
- Kryten?
Holiday. Nice shelf on V deck.
My idea. Needed break.
Mechs don't go on holiday.
- They are machines.
- That's what I said.
You were senior officer. It was
duty to ensure efficiency of ship.
How come there are two
holograms active, both hard light?
I thought the ship
could only sustain one.
- How does Lister pass time?
- Sleeps, annoys me.
Look, if there's one...
Besides sleeping and annoying you,
what else he do?
- Gets ready for bed.
- And for entertainment?
He irons sneezes.
In fact, if he was an art student,
he'd probably be considered a genius.
Is tragedy.
His body lives, but inside he is dead.
- This is your fault. You killed him.
- What did I do?
You responsible for his life but you
do nothing. You think only of you.
I don't know whether you happened
to notice, but we are in deep space,
where there isn't a whole
hell of a lot to do.
There are only so many times
you can play What's In The Bag?
Fish paste? Lister's trainers?
In my country, we have word
for people like you.
In my country, we have several.
Hey. I've found one.
Mr Lister, please prepare.
You are to be returning home, so we
have possibility to make this happen.
- Are you serious?
- Of course, I always serious.
- Mr Rimmer?
- Yes.
You have 24 hours
to get your affairs in order,
then you'll be offlined
and your data files erased.
Then your hard drive
will be fired into space
and when safe distance from ship,
it will be detonated by nuclear fusion.
- You really don't like me, do you?
- I do my job.
And my job is look after him.
Which, sadly, is very
ungroovy news for you, you see?
Dobro vece.
I hate her.
I like her. I like her a lot!
She's given me 24 hours
to get my affairs in order
before I'm offlined and trashed.
She's treated me like a computer virus.
Oh, she's so bright and perceptive, sir.
Such a breath of fresh air.
We all have our Achilles' heel.
Find hers.
Start trawling the data, Krytie.
Get me some dirt on her. You
know what I'm talking about, kid?
Ah, Ms Bartikovsky!
Yes, Ms "Smegging" Bartikovsky.
Get me some dirt on her.
- Er, I trust you slept well, Ms...
- Not particularly, Ms...
I love it when your voice unit
acts up like that.
(IMITATING KRYTEN)
Right, back to the dirt thing...
Your breasts look
particularly good today, Ms.
My what? My breast... What are you?
Good morning, Ms... Miss!
You, follow me.
On my way to Dirtville, sir.
I'll catch you later.
Engage Innocent Whistle Mode.
(WHISTLING)
So, as spoken,
I bring Lister back to life,
restore drive so can
restart human race, yes?
And how, pray tell,
do you plan to do that?
- Isn't it obvious?
- You start, I'll join in.
Well, the solution is staring you
in your stupid, fat, ferrety face.
We have tentacle of
dimension-migrating leviathan.
We take, insert into a gene reader,
you have several in medi-lab
and triangulate results with
power surge readings
and temporal displacement residues
recorded in water tank.
We then calculate quantum algorithm
creature produced
to open dimensional membrane,
then we travel multiverse.
Once computed,
we have key to dimensional travel,
transpose calibrations into mining laser
and, bingo jingo, we have our very
own dimension cutter.
That is exactly what I was going to say.
- That's so spooky.
- So Lister will travel to new dimension,
bring back mate and
recreate human race, yes?
Word for word what I was gonna say.
Hmm.
No way will this work.
I'll probably end up with your head
or someone else's legs.
Something always goes wrong.
I'm not building my hopes up.
And we begin.
# 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 #
