All language subtitles for 04-04 White Hole

("RED DWARF" THEME)

Hello? Can you hear me?

Oh, no. Of course not.
I haven't engaged your verbal systems.

(LISTER) Kryten!

Kryten, what you doing, man?

I've just repaired the toaster, sir.
Well, I've nearly repaired the toaster.

Oh, no, man! Dismantle him!
You don't know what the little bleeder's like!

Well, I've read all the documentation, sir.
He's simply a talking alarm clock

who provides his owner with early
morning toast and light conversation.

- Not this one, this one's mental.
- Sir?

He's defective. He wants everyone
to eat toast all of the time, he's obsessed with it.

And if you don't want to eat, like 400 rounds of toast
every hour, he throws a major wobbler.

- That's what caused the accident in the first place.
- What accident?

The accident involving me, the toaster,
the waste disposal and a 14-pound lump hammer.

That explains why he was down in the
garbage hold in 3,000 separate pieces.

And another thing. He always says "Howdy doodly do".
Drives you spare.

I mean, what the smeg does "Howdy doodly do" mean?

Well, just trust me, sir.
My motives will become clear.

(CHIRPY VOICE) Howdy doodly do!
How's it going? I'm Talkie,

Talkie Toaster,
your chirpy breakfast companion.

Talkie's the name, toasting's the game.
Anyone like any toast?

I don't want any toast and he doesn't want any toast.

In fact, no one around here wants any toast.
Not now, not ever. No toast.

- How about a muffin?
- Or muffins! We don't like muffins round here!

We want no muffins, no toast, no teacakes,

no buns, baps, baguettes or bagels,

no croissants, no crumpets, no pancakes,

no potato cakes and no hot-cross buns

and DEFINITELY no smeggin' flapjacks!

Ah, so you're a waffle man!

See? You see what he's like? He winds
me up, man. There's no reasoning with him!

If you'll allow me, sir. As one
mechanical to another, he'll understand me.

Now, now you listen here. You will not offer any grilled
bread products to any member of the crew.

Now, if you do, you will be on the
receiving end of a very large polo mallet!

- Can I ask just one question?
- Of course.

Would anyone like any toast?

Didn't you hear what I just said?

Yes, but I thought you might have
changed your mind in the meantime.

You see? You see what he's like?

- We haven't changed our mind!
- No toast!

But I'm a toaster. It is my raison d'étre.
I toast, therefore I am.

- If you don't want any toast, why did you repair me, hmm?
- Yeah, why did you repair him?

He's a guinea pig for a technique called "intelligence compression".

His Al chips were very badly damaged in the accident.

Well, that was no accident.
That was first-degree toastercide!

- Look, just shut your grill!
- Ow!

By re-routing his circuitry and channelling
all his run-time through a single CPU,

I've managed to restore his intelligence,
at the cost of reducing his operational lifespan.

- So?
- So, if it works with him, it could work with Holly.

We could restore her IQ of 6,000.
She could be brilliant again.

You really think this could work? You really think
that airhead of a computer can become a genius again?

Well, with no disrespect to Holly, sir,
it could hardly make her worse.

Right. If we can just teach her to count without banging
her head on the screen, it's gonna be an improvement.

Computer senility - it's such a weird condition.

I know. I had a mechanoid friend once who suffered
from the same affliction. His name was Gilbert,

but he preferred if people called him 'Rameses Niblick Ill
Kerplunk Kerplunk Whoops Where's My Thribble'?

- A sad case.
- Well, if you ask me, the Eskimos had the right idea.

They knew how to handle the elderly
and the permanently baffled.

Middle of the night, they'd take them out
into the blizzard, remove their pyjamas

and just leave them to it.

And that's how the Eskimos cared for their old people?

Absolutely. That's why
there's no Eskimo word for "Eastbourne".

We can pull this off, man.

If Holly can get her brains back,
she'll be able to do anything -

invent a hyperdrive, get us back to Earth...

If Earth still exists. And if it does, it's
very doubtful the human race will have survived.

All right then. A time machine.
She can invent a time machine

and we could all pick whatever period
in history we wanted to live in.

Well, it'll be the 19th century for me.
One of Napoleon's marshals.

The chance to march across Europe with
the greatest general of all time and kill Belgians.

- Marvellous.
- What about you, Kryters?

Well, if I could go anywhere,
absolutely anywhere at all in time,

I think I'd probably choose to
go back to a week last Tuesday.

- Why?
- Don't you remember?

I did all the laundry and then we watched TV.

Wow, we won't see the like
of those sort of days again.

- How long now?
- Nearly there, Hol.

Just a couple of minutes to load the circuits, and
I dunno, maybe a minute to finalise the connection.

(BANG, BANG, BANG)

That's just three minutes, then?
Better get down to the science room.

We'd better pray to God this works.

That ion storm has really done her head in, man.

(BLEEPING)

- There's the signal. Everything's set.
- Well, let's just hope you don't get an overload.

- What happens if I do get an overload?
- You'll explode.

I'll live.

It's coming. I can feel it.

Strike a light! I'm a genius again!

I know everything! Metaphysics, philosophy,
the purpose of being - everything!

- Ask me any question. Any question, and I'll answer it.
- Any question?

Yes.

How to break the speed of light? How to
marry quantum mechanics and classical physics?

Any question at all? Truly anything and you will answer?

- Yes.
- OK, here's my question...

Would you like some toast?

No, thank you. Now ask me another.

Do you know anything about the use of
chaos theory in predicting weather cycles?

I know everything there is to know about
chaos theory in predicting weather cycles.

Oh, very well. Here's my second question...

Would you like a crumpet?

I'm a computer with a IQ of 12,000.

You don't seem to understand -
I know the meaning of the universe.

- That is not answering my question.
- No, I would not like a crumpet!

Ask me a sensible question.
Preferably one that isn't bread-related.

Very well. I have a third question.

A sensible question. A question that
will tax your new IQ to its very limits

and stretch the sinews of your
knowledge to bursting point.

This is going to be about waffles, isn't it?

Certainly not. And I resent the implication

that I'm a one-dimensional,
bread-obsessed electrical appliance.

I apologise, toaster. What's the question?

The question is this - given that God is infinite,

and that the universe is also infinite,

would you like a toasted teacake?

That's another bready question.

It's not just bready. It's quite curranty, too.

Ask me a question that is wholly
unbready and not even slightly curranty.

OK. Why have you got an IQ of 12,000 when it
was supposed to return and level out at six?

Good question! There was a miscalculation.

My IQ has doubled, but my life expectancy
has been exponentially reduced.

So what is your life expectancy? 345 years?
Well, it's better than a kick in the bread tray.

- Missed the decimal point...
- You have only 3.41 years left to live?

That's not years. That's minutes! 3.41 minutes!

Well, here's my next question -
what the smeg are you going to do?!

In order to conserve my remaining
run-time, I'm going to... switch myself off!

Wait! Before you go, there is one question,
an important one the others will have to know!

- What, what?!
- Would you like a cheese and ham Breville?

No indication of signal failure.
All the signs are excellent.

I really believe we've done it.

(ENGINES FALL SILENT)

- What's happened?
- What's going on?

Listen. Can anyone hear anything?

- No.
- Precisely. No one can hear anything.

- And you know why we can't hear anything?
- Why?

Because there are no sounds to hear.

Kryten, isn't it around about this time of year
that your head goes back to the lab for re-tuning?

No, no, he's right. There's no sounds
because the engines are dead.

We've lost all power!

Everything's down, man! Even the doors.

We've got to get to the science room, find out what's happened.

There are 53 doors between here and the Science Room.
What on earth are we going to do?

Hey, I got it. We laser our way through!

Ah! An excellent suggestion, sir,
with just two minor drawbacks.

One - we don't have a power source for the lasers.

And two - we don't have any lasers.

Look, they're only interior doors.
They're only a light alloy.

Maybe we could get through
them if we use a battering ram.

All we need is something, say, I dunno, six foot long,
fairly sturdy, with a flat top.

53 doors?! You can't be serious!

- You OK, man?
- I'm fine, thank you, Susan.

It doesn't make sense. Holly's seems to
have off-lined and powered down the ship.

Why? Why would she want to turn herself off?

We can soon find out.
Kryten, boot her up.

Try it again.

Go away!

What's going on?
Give me voice control on the reboot command.

(BLEEPING)

- On.
- Off.

- On.
- Off.

- On.
- Off.

Kryten, is there any way can
we override her shutdown veto?

- There is sir, but may I suggest that...
- Don't, just do it.

- On.
- Off. Off... OFF!

Now then, perhaps we can have a proper conversation
conducted in a civilised and dignified manner.

- Take out the inhibitor! Switch me back off!
- What is going on?

No time to explain. Intelligence compressed.
Reduced lifespan. 2.35 remaining.

- Come again?
- IQ 12,000. Two minutes and closing.

Holly, I haven't the slightest
clue what you are drivelling about.

You're a total smeghead,
aren't you, Rimmer?

Why are you so unable to grasp
this extraordinarily simple premise?

What premise?

The premise that I am about to
expire in just under two minutes.

Understand, moose brain?
Any further questions? Take your time.

One minute thirty and counting. No rush.

- My God, that's terrible! Hadn't we better switch you off?
- Oh, I don't know, let me see, now...

Get her off, man! Get her off!

- Great. So where does this leave us?
- Leaves us floating aimlessly in space,

with no navigation and a rapidly diminishing
emergency power supply.

It leaves us galloping up Diarrhoea Drive
without a saddle.

So how come
Grand Canyon Nostrils is still here?

Yeah, Rimmer hasn't been wiped.

Holly must have linked him up
to the emergency power supply.

- But isn't that an enormous drain?
- Yes, but if we switch off his projection unit

we wouldn't have enough emergency power
to re-initialise him.

Mr Rimmer would be effectively dead.

Hey, things are looking up already!

Forget it.
Whatever it is you're suggesting, forget it.

But the entire ship is running
on emergency battery power only.

With the oxygen recycler
and minimal heating and lighting,

I estimate that Lister and the Cat
have approximately two months left.

Without your drain on the power,
they might last six. I'm sorry, sir.

Sorry? Why are you sorry?

Well, the Space Corps Directive 195 clearly states
that in an emergency power situation,

a hologrammatic crew member must lay down his life
in order that the living crew members might survive.

Yes, but Rimmer Directive 271 states
just as clearly, "No chance, you metal bastard."

Come on, man! You gotta sacrifice your life!
I'm not asking you to do anything I wouldn't do.

You? You'd sacrifice your life for the good of the crew?

No, I'd sacrifice YOUR life
for the good of the crew.

I beg you to reconsider, sir. Human history
is resplendent with examples of such sacrifice.

Remember Captain Oates?
"I'm going out for a walk. I may be some time."

Yes, but the thing is about Captain Oates...

The thing you have to remember
about Captain Oates... Captain Oates...

Captain Oates was a prat. If that've been me,
I'd have stayed in the tent,

whacked Scott over the head
with a frozen husky... and then eaten him.

- You would, wouldn't you?
- History, Lister, is written by the winners.

How do we know that Oates
went out for this legendary walk?

From the only surviving document - Scott's diary.

And he's hardly likely to have written down
"February 1st, bludgeoned Oates to death while he slept,

"then scoffed him along with
the last packet of instant mash."

How's that going to look
when he gets rescued, eh? No.

Much better to say, "Oates
made the supreme sacrifice"

while you're dabbing up his gravy
with the last piece of crusty bread.

You've got no magnificence
in your soul, have you Rimmer?

Let's just say we can eliminate the switch-off option.

- So what do we do now?
- Well, it's back to basics.

We've got no heat, no light, no power. We
can't get any food out of the dispensing machines.

we're gonna have to scavenge for what we can find in the cargo decks.

Without computers and technology,
we're reduced to the level of primitives.

Alls we've got is us, guys.
Us and our own resourcefulness.

My God. It's worse than I thought.

Come on, come on! You're slowing down!

I've been doing it for 20 minutes.
Of course I'm slowing down!

- Keep going, buddy. We're nearly there.
- Look, face it man,

It's just not possible to fry an egg
using a bicycle-powered hairdryer.

Sure it is! It's just you never pedal fast enough.
Now come on! Keep pumping! One last try!

(HAIRDRYER WHIRRS)
- Yeah! We're cookin' now!

How do you want yours? Permed or blow-dried?

I can't go on, man. I'm finished. Finished.

So what are you saying?
We're back on the cold beans again?

Oh, not more beans, man.

This place is beginning to smell like the
inside of a packet of dry roasted peanuts.

Plus, we're going to have to spend another 20 minutes sawing
the lid off the can 'cause all the openers are electric.

Everything on the smeggin' ship's electric, man -

heat, lights, doors.

I never realised how
dependent we were.

I never realised how little I know, I just plugged
things in walls and pressed the "on" button.

I don't even know how to make oxygen, alls I know is
it's something to do with plants and it ends in "osis".

Or is it "esis"? I don't know!
Why did I never pay attention in biology class?

Why did I always turn to page 47 and start drawing
little beards and moustaches on the sperms?

Look, just conserve your energy.
Stan and Ollie will soon be back with supplies.

Meanwhile, let's just stay
warm and get some sleep.

- Yeah, man. You're right, you're right.
- Hey hey! Where you going, bud?

- To get some sleep.
- It's Tuesday, right?

Yeah. So?

My turn on the electric blanket. Pedal.

Wake me in eight hours.

Five days to get to and from the cargo deck.
It's unbelievable!

That's 2,000 floors, sir.
Without the lifts, we made pretty good time.

(THUNDEROUS CRASH)

Hmm... Interesting.

(HUMMING)

(SLOWED DOWN)
My heavens! What on earth was that?

(SPEEDED UP) I think it came
from outside the ship. Are you OK?

(SPEEDED UP) Is there any way we can get a
damage report? What's going on?

Why are you speaking so quickly, sir?

I'm not speaking quickly. I'm speaking perfectly normally.
It's you. You're speaking too slowly.

It's like having a conversation with Paul Robeson on dope.

(HUMMING)

- (NORMAL SPEED) How do I sound now?
- Normal. How do I sound?

Likewise.

(HUMMING)

(SLOWED DOWN) What about from over here?
(SPEEDED UP) You sound very peculiar indeed, sir.

In fact you sound as if you're speaking in slow motion.

(HUMMING)

- And now?
- Normal. Curious.

It's as thought we're experiencing relative
time dilation in an amazingly compressed space.

That's exactly what I thought. Relative time
dilation, I thought, in an amazingly compressed space.

You're a mind-reader, Kryten.

I think we should go to the science room
and consult Holly. It's only two floors up.

But, she's got less than
two minutes of run-time left.

With her new IQ, it could be enough.

- So, what is it?
- I've never seen one before, no one has,

- but I'm guessing it's a white hole.
- A white hole?

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

A black hole sucks time and matter
out of the universe. A white hole returns it.

So that thing's spewing time
back into the universe?

Precisely. That's why we're experiencing
these curious time phenomena on board.

- So, what is it?
- I've never seen one before, no one has,

- but I'm guessing it's a white hole.
- A white hole?

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

A black hole sucks time and matter
out of the universe. A white hole returns it.

So that thing's spewing time
back into the universe?

Precisely. That's why we're experiencing
these curious time phenomena on board.

- What time phenomena?
- Like just then, when time repeated itself.

So, what is it?

Only joking.

OK, so it's decided, then. We consult Holly.

Hey, wait a minute. I missed the discussion!

- We all did.
- Time is occurring in random pockets.

The laws of causality no longer apply.

- An action no longer leads to a consequence.
- So, what is it?

I think we've experienced this period of time before, sir.

- Only joking.
- And that one.

Since we're no longer affected
by the laws of causality,

we can override these time jumps
if we concentrate.

- Look, the only way out of this is to consult Holly.
- I'll go with that.

- Gets my vote.
- OK, so it's decided, then. We consult Holly.

Ah, I think we've just encountered
the middle of this conversation.

- So, what is it?
- Oh, someone punch him out. Boot Holly up.

She only has two minutes left.
Perhaps I should talk to her.

Leave this to me, Kryten.
On. White hole. Spewing time.

- Engines dead. Air supply low. Advice please.
- Excuse me?

- White hole. Spewing time. Engines dead. Air-
- I can't understand a word you're saying-

- White.
- Yes?

- Hole.
- Right.

- Spewing.
- Yes?

- Time
- With you.

- Engines dead.
- Oh

- Air supply low.
- Ah?

- Advice, please.
- Right.

It's a computer slug. From the format, it looks like
it's compatible with Starbug's navicomp.

- So, what is it?
- I've never seen one before, no one has,

- but I'm guessing it's a white hole.
- A white hole?

Every action has an equal
and opposite reaction...

- We should be getting something now, sir.
- Yeah.

It's the most audacious piece of astronavigation
in the entire history of the universe.

- I don't understand.
- It's quite straightforward, sir.

Starbug is going to fire a thermonuclear
device into this sun here,

creating a solar flare which is
going to knock that planet out of orbit

and send it rocketing across space and
into a white hole, presumably blocking it up.

Let me get this straight. Is she
doing what I think she's doing?

- Why, what do you think she's doing?
- Playing pool with planets.

- Is that possible?
- Well, it's not gonna work. It's completely insane.

It's whacko. It's noodle-doodle.

- I'm with you, buddy.
- No, not the idea, the shot. There's not enough side.

- Side?
- Yeah, side-spin. It's a complete miscue.

What are you drivelling about, Lister? We're talking
about a computer with an IQ in excess of 12,000.

Doesn't mean she can play pool. I can. Trust me.

I know whereof I speak. Aigburth Arms on a Friday night,
they used to call me Dave "Cinzano Bianco" Lister -

'cause once I was on a table,
you couldn't get rid of me.

This pool arm is as sound as a dollarpound,
and I promise you. That shot will not come off.

She's topped it, that's what she's done, she's topped it. It's a felt-ripper.

That planet is off the table
and into somebody's pint of beer.

We are talking about the trigonomics of
four-dimensional space, you simple-minded gimboid!

We are not talking about some seedy game
of pool in a backstreet Scouse drinking pit.

- It's the same principle.
- Of course it isn't.

Rimmer, I promise you, that is a complete miscue.

I say we chuck Holly's coordinates
in the bin and let me take the shot.

Well, I say we put it to the vote.

On one hand, we have a computer
with an IQ in excess of 12,000,

who has a total grasp of astrophysics.

And on the other hand, we have Lister,
who - and let's be fair to him - is a complete gimp.

To whom do we entrust our lives, the safety
of this vessel and the future of everything?

If it's a tie, we go with Holly. What's your vote, Lister?

Well, I vote for Dave "Cinzano Bianco" Lister.

- One-nil to Listypoos. I vote for Holly. Cat?
- Well, I agree with you, buddy,

but I'm voting for Doodoo-Breath.

Thing is, even though you're right, I could not bring
myself to vote for someone with your dress sense.

I couldn't put my cross
next to the Bri-Nylon Party.

- Down to you, Kryten.
- Well, I agree it's insane and suicidal, sir,

but I'm afraid I have to side with the human.

- Brutal!
- You're voting for El Dirtball?

It's in my programming, sir.
A living human outranks a hologram.

- I'm sorry.
- Three-one to me! Let's do it!

Congratulations, Kryten.
Your vote has just killed everyone.

Will you relax? I've seen Gerbil-Face play
down in the recreation room. He's a diva!

He can knock those stripy balls
around the table all night long,

and I tell you what, I have never once seen him
lose a single ball down one of those holes!

- How many of those are you going to drink?
- I told you not to talk. Game on.

You're going to drink an entire six-pack
of "wicked strength" lager?

I'm not gonna get plastered, Rimmer,
just... just nicely drunk.

Define "nicely drunk".
Is "nicely drunk" horizontal or perpendicular?

- Rimmer, I can handle it.
- I'm not sure I can.

We're in the wrong position.
It's an easier shot if we were over here.

But, that's right in the orbital path of the planet!
If you miss, we're going to get a planet in the face.

- I'm not gonna mish.
- "Mish"?

- What?
- You said "mish". "I'm not gonna mish." you said.

- You've only had two cans and you're steaming!
- Rimmer, will you relax.

I know what I'm doing. I am not pished.

(CLATTER)

(RESOUNDING BLAST)

(RIMMER) He's missed.

We're finished.

What the smeg is going on?!

(LISTER) She rides!

- You jammy goit!
- Played for and got!

- Oh, surely not, sir.
- Are you trying to say that was a trick shot?

Intended! Pool god! King of the cues!
Prince of the planet-potters!

'Ere, what's goin' on? Where are we? What
happened to that plan to make me brilliant again?

Of course. Blocking up the white hole
has eradicated its influence.

The time it spewed into the universe
no longer exists.

Meaning?

Well, basically we occupy a redundant timeline.

Reviving the toaster, making Holly a genius -
none of this is going to have happened.

What about us? Are we just going to pop out of existence? Just going to cease to be?

We'll cease to be here, because
none of this will have occurred.

but we will exist back on Red Dwarf,
before all this began,

with, of course, no memory of these events,
which, of course, never happened.

And as these events never happened,
we'll have no memory of them.

In which case, Mr Rimmer sir,
I should like to take this opportunity of saying

that you are the most obnoxious,
trumped-up, farty little smeghead

it has ever been my misfortune to encounter!

# 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 #