by Ganymede & Titan

Series XI - Can of Worms - All scenes



Ah, what's this?

I salvaged it from the Medistation, sir.
It's a personality tuck machine.

Mmm, so it can perform
corrective surgery on your character?

Exactly. It scans the patient's brain
and forms a personality map.

It's then able to enhance, remove,

even sculpt the very traits
that make that person who they are.

I'm speaking hypothetically here,

do you think I could do
with a little work?

Take a seat, sir.
I'll cancel this week's schedule.

So, what can you do for me exactly?

I'll begin by just working out the areas
I think we might be able to improve.

Now here, here, here,

here, here, definitely here.

Yes, all right, Kryten,
get on with it, man.

Well, take your pomposity,
large and unsightly.

Your self-importance, too,
is massively engorged.

What's that huge area
in the middle there?

Well, that is your cowardice, sir.

Perhaps you'd like me to perform
a cowardectomy?

What, reduce it. A sort of

Hey, what's happening, buds?

I'm about to perform
some personality surgery on Mr Rimmer.

He's getting a new personality?
Great idea.

Not new, moulded, tightened,
lifted, shaped.

This is gonna transform me.

I'm gonna be the lady-melting enormous
bald stud muffin I've always dreamt of.

Now, Kryten, one thing.
This isn't gonna hurt, is it?

There'll just be the slightest,

- Infinitesimally tiny little scratch.
- Scratch?

- Well, when I insert the laser.
- Laser?

- Well, it has to burn...
- Burn?

Well, perhaps I should give you
a holo-sedative, sir.

- With a needle?
- Sir, please.

I'll talk you through every aspect
of the procedure step by step.

Right now, I'm just in the...
W- where's he gone?

Out the door and left.

Oh, Einstein was wrong. It is possible
to break the speed of light.


What the...

Guys? Keep the noise down,
I'm trying to sleep here.

Whoa! What's going on?
We're way off course here.

Who's the joker in charge of navigation?

You are, sir.

Seriously? Oh, man.
I think I might've dosed off.

Lister, we're 5,000 klicks off course.

All you had to do was engage autopilot,
your watch, your fault.

You can't blame me for this.

What kind of lunch was that
to give your pilot?

Roast beef with all the trimmings,
followed by seconds,

followed by sticky toffee pudding,
followed by seconds,

followed by beer and coffee and cheese
and brandy and port and cigars

and that little chocolate mint.

What chance did I stand
after a Sunday lunch like that?

- How long have I been out?
- It's Monday, sir.

Oh, man. No way.

It's gonna take us forever
to get back to Red Dwarf now.

Maybe we could take a short cut
across that asteroid belt.

GELF country?

If the stories are to be believed,

the particular tribe of GELF
that inhabit belt Juno 98

are the... (GIBBERISH)

Oh, sorry.
I just sat down on a screwdriver.

Why does nobody tidy up around here
except me?

Kryten, you were saying?

I'm sorry, sir, yes, that particular
tribe are the Nacky Ninckers.

Vampire GELFs to you and me.

Vampire GELFs?

The story goes they feast
on the blood of virgins.

Feast on the blood of virgins(!)

Who believes that? Taking her in.

Wait a minute, hang on here,
slow the hell down.

- What's the problem?
- I'm just curious.

How do they tell the virgins
from the non-virgins?

Well, according to the ancient myths,
they can smell them.

Smell 'em?
What the hell does a virgin smell of?

Desperation, normally.

Actually, sir, the actual science is

that the GELFs can smell the pheromone
produced by fear.

Only the virgins are scared,

so they're the only ones
producing the fear pheromone.

- Thus no issue for us.
- Taking her in.

Hang on, hold up. Can we discuss this
for one stupid, lousy second?

- Hang on a minute, are you...
- No.

- I suppose you must...
- No!

- I never really...
- Don't even say it.

Okay. Moving on.

Didn't mean to open up
a can of worms here.

I've had my share, let me tell ya.

More than my share.

Plus I've had full blown
love affairs, too.

Well, yes, mirror in the bathroom,

mirror in the hall...
I'd forgotten about those.

Don't you guys know that cats always
have two homes?

I got a lady cat back on Red Dwarf.

- Hell, I got two.
- On Zed deck.

- On Zed deck.
- On Zed deck.

Exactly. That's where they are,
on Zed deck.

But hiding from you guys, because
they're only interested in me.

We will go the long way 'round.

And be quick about it, because I gotta
get back to my lady cats on Zed deck.

I'm suddenly starting
to miss 'em real bad.



I'm picking up a ship.

The energy signature's
barely registering.

The signal's weaker than
the San Marino reserve team.

Posting, logging into their mainframe.

Don't bother, in this region of space,
it could well be a GELF battle cruiser.

Maintain current course.

That gets my vote.

According to the hack,
it's a transport ship, crew two,

one Mercenoid, one prisoner.

A merce-what?

A Mercenoid is a droid, sir,
who has agreed to sacrifice his life

in exchange for software updates
in silicone heaven.

These Mercenoids are nuttier
than a vegetarian breakfast.

That probably explains why
the Mercenoid and his prisoner

are on a death dive into
the heart of a super-massive black hole.

So what now?

We're gonna board that crate
before it passes the event horizon.

Risk our necks for one prisoner?

Rimmer, that prisoner might be human,
we can't just abandon them.

Never say can't, Lister.

You put your mind to it,
there's no limit to who you can abandon.

All right, Cat, take her in,
Rimmer lend me your Dictaphone.

What, why?

Because I've got an idea.

Right. Come on, let's do this.

Good luck, keep in touch.

RIMMER: More ship intel
coming through via the hack.

They were transporting scientific
equipment to a bio-station on Orta 15.

Something doesn't smell right.

The ship's log's been deleted and
the black box has also been wiped clean.

I'm not getting any pictures
from your head cam.

There must be some kind of signal block
in place.

How about now?

Yes, getting pictures now.
What did you do?

Oh, I just recalibrated
the fluctuation drive band signal.

- Impressive.
- Thanks.

You're not gonna like this,

but I'm picking up something
in the movement tracker.

Life signs, organic and part organic,
in corridor Beta 12.

Where exactly in Beta 127

RIMMER: At the south entrance.

That's where we are.

Then you should be able to see them,
they're there right on top of you.

They may be in the ceiling
or under the floor, run!

Go back, get out of there! Move!
Now! Forwards!

Not that way the other way!

No, the other way.

Lister, move!

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Could these life signs...

Could they, by any chance, be us?

Ah, yes, of course.

Organic and part organic. Yes, it's you.

They should warn you about that
in the instruction manual

Someone could come along
and make a right idiot of himself.

Ah, it does mention it.

It's this bit here in big red capitals.

So easy to miss.

I'm picking up EM emissions.
This way, sirs.

I know you are here, humies.

If you want to live, you must leave.

He's right, I think we should go.

- Sir...
- You haven't seen him. Okay.

I wanna talk about your prisoner.
I wanna do a trade.

- No trade.
- Let's talk.

No talk.

Now, take my advice and go.


LISTER: Who's your prisoner
and what have they done?

That is my business, not yours.

You can trust us, you really can.

You will achieve all your dreams.

Size doesn't matter.

You are very handsome.


And women think
you're extremely attractive.

Actually, that's not really true,

so drop your weapon
and turn round slowly.



Head count down, what's going on?
Are you okay?

We're fine, sir. Mercenoid down.

I think I've located the prisoner,
up two floors, Bay 12.

Buds, am I pleased to see you.

- Wait, are you...
- Are you?

- Ow.
- Ow.

- You got a name?
- Sure I do, stupid.

- Who doesn't have a name?
- Ow.

Incidentally that's mine, that's mine,

that's mine, that's mine,
all this is mine.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
What about that bit?

That's mine, too.


CAT: This is mine,
that's mine, this is mine.

Basically, all of this is mine.
Even that bit.

- What about that bit?
- Mine.

- And that?
- Mine. And that bit, all mine.

Look, we'll catch you guys later.

Hey, why don't we meet up later
on the pretext of having dinner,

but instead play the string game?

I love the string game.

- Ow!
- Ow!

Ow. Hey? You bring you,
I'll bring the string.

- See you at 8:00.

If you'd like to follow me, ma'am,
I'll show you to your quarters.



Whoa, Kryten. What's the big emergency?

Extremely disturbing news, sir.

According to the Mercenoid's black box,

that cat we brought on Red Dwarf
is not a felis sapien.

It's not a cat. What is it, then?

It's a polymorph, sir.

A polymorph that's shape shifted
into a felis sapien?

- Precisely.
- That's why the Mercenoid

was flying into that black hole.

It was the only way
he could ensure the polymorph's death.

And we killed the Mercenoid, saved the
polymorph and brought it onboard ship.

Our nomination for JMC Crew of the Year
is starting to look unlikely.

Those damn space monkeys from
the Omega-4 are gonna get it again.

And another thing,
according to the black box,

the polymorph is carrying eggs.

Eggs that hatch?

No, Kinder eggs.

Of course eggs that hatch.

Okay, when will they hatch?

Soon after 'mom' has found a host body
to deposit them in.

I don't know if I wanna know this
but, um, explain.

Well, I found a genetic mutant
documentary on RedNet.

I was about to watch it.

TV PRESENTER: Evening falls and
the impregnated female polymorph

seduces a passing organism

by appearing to be his mate

and secretly deposits her eggs

in the unlucky host's body.

- Where's the Cat?
- What's the time?

Oh, he's on his date
with the polymorph.

TV PRESENTER: Weeks later and
the morphling burst into the world.

# Seemed so wrong

# But now it seems so right

# What a lady, what a night


Did you sleep with her? What happened?

Hey, I ain't kissing and telling.

I've had enough kissing for one night,
let me tell ya.

You don't understand, we need to know.

All I'm saying is that she had
some moves you'd never even seen.

- Like what?
- Like when you're rolling around

making out,
then the next thing you know,

her big pipe thing
shoots out of her back,

hovers above you like a crazy snake,

then whooshes straight
down your throat. Woo!

Man, I was like... (GAGS)

Cat, women don't have a big pipe thing.

Not for you maybe.

But if you drive 'em crazy
by blowing on their antennas...

What antennas?

Boom, out it comes.

Then what happened?

The usual, she just released her gushy
tadpole stuff down her pipe.

Then afterwards.
she said she'd never been with anyone

who could hold so many eggs.

I don't know what the hell she meant,

but I think it meant I did good.

See you in the morning, buds.

# Oh, what a night

# Why'd it take so long to see the... #

Just listen to me.

How do I break this to you?
You're a moron!

Oh, Rimmer. Go easy on him.
Let me handle this.

Cat man, you're a moron!

Sir, that wasn't a woman.
It wasn't a felis sapien, sir.

- It was a shape shifter.
- A what?

It wasn't a cat, it wasn't a woman,

you just had sex with a genetically
engineered insectoid arachnid.

It still counts.


It counts.

Why doesn't it count?

I'm counting it.

Let me tell you,

she looked a hell of a lot
better last night.

Its life cycle complete, it's died,

as the female polymorph often does

after the exhaustive process

of depositing her morphlings
into a host body.