Original subtitles

("RED DWARF" THEME)

(MAN) Oh, Marnie. (WOMAN) Oh, my darling, don't.

This isn't a time for sadness, it's a time for joy, for laughter. Don't you see?

Whatever this crazy old world throws at us now it doesn't matter. None of it does.

(MAN) Marnie, we can never be together again.

(WOMAN) Oh, darling, you're wrong. we'll always be together.

It's just... we'll be apart.

Wasn't that just beautiful? Oh, well recommended, sir.

Do you think they ever get back together again?

- (SOBS) I don't know. - Pardon?

(SQUEAKS) I don't know!

Wasn't it just wonderful though, sir?

The way he sacrificed his career, his dreams, everything for the woman he loved?

I thought it was the worst pile of blubbery schoolgirl mush

I've ever been compelled to endure.

I consider it an insult to my backside that it was forced to sit here growing carbuncles

through such putrid adolescent slush.

You didn't find it uplifting?

It wasn't in the least bit uplifting. It was totally unbelievable.

Why would he give everything up for a woman he's never going to see again?

Because she loved him, and he would have that forever. Isn't that right, sir?

(BLOWS NOSE)

Personally, I thought it started well but fell apart.

All the stuff with the ducks all getting into trouble, that was great.

Then it all went black and white and I fell asleep.

But, sir, that was the cartoon before the main programme.

Hang on, chaps. We've got a blip. Quadrant 4, sector 492,

I'm onto it right away Holly.

Those kind of films really irritate me. Just not realistic.

There isn't a man in the universe who wouldn't have taken the job

and to hell with the woman. Total baloney.

Rimmer, you said that about "King of Kings: The Story of Jesus"

Well, it's true. A simple carpenter's son who learns how to do magic tricks like that

and doesn't go into show business?

Do any of us believe that, even for a second?

He was supposed to be the Son of God(!)

And when he was carrying that cross up the hill

any normal, realistic bloke would've mule-kicked the guy on the left, clobbered the one on the right

and be over that green hill and far away before you could say 'Pontius Pilate'.

Why do I feel that somehow you've missed the point?

I mean, whether you believe it or not, it's about a dude who sacrifices his life for love.

Not realistic. As if!

You've got no soul, man. No soul.

- Sirs, I think you should take a look at this. - Another vessel?

Too small. It may be a missile.

- Impact in 37 seconds. - Plotting random evasion course.

What?! Am I the only sane one here? Why don't we drop the defensive shields?

A superlative suggestion, sir, with just two minor flaws.

One, we don't have any defensive shields, and two, we don't have any defensive shields.

Now, I realise that technically speaking, that's only one flaw,

but I thought it was such a big one, it was worth mentioning twice.

Good point. Well made.

(WHOOSH)

Rimmer, what are you doing?

It's incredible! It's beautiful!

It's not registering on any scale. Mass, velocity, molecular structure -

all the readings are zero.

Sir, I'm picking up some kind of energy emission.

They've taken Mr Rimmer! Sir, they've taken Mr. Rimmer!

Quick! Let's get out of here before they bring him back!

I hope we didn't startle you. Nirvanah Crane.

You touched me. I can touch.

- How is this possible? - This entire ship, its crew

and everything on it is computer-generated.

- You're all holograms? Even the ship? - Salut.

Salut.

- How big's the crew? - Just under 2,000. All top-flight personnel.

- Hmm. What a ship. - (COMPUTER) Floor 3125,

Sports and sexual recreation.

- Sports and what? - Sex.

- Don't you have a sex deck on your ship? - No.

Well, what do you do when you want to have sex?

Well, we go for runs.

Watch gardening programmes on the ship's vid.

That's very bad for you. Don't you ever feel tense or frustrated?

Well, it's gotten worse these last ten years or so, I can't deny it.

Extraordinary. It's quite different here.

In fact, it's a ship regulation that we all have sexual congress at least twice a day. It's a health rule.

Twice a day?! That's more than some people manage in a lifetime!

I mean sad, lonely people. But what happens if you don't have a partner?

If you don't have a partner?

Well, some people - sad, lonely people -

find that that people just aren't attracted to them in that kind of way.

I don't understand. Here it is considered the height of bad manners to refuse an offer of sexual coupling.

Well...

People have always complimented me on my good manners.

What a ship!

We discarded the concept of "family" in the 25th century,

when scientists finally proved that all our hang-ups and neuroses are caused by our parents.

- I knew it. - Families are disastrous for your mental health.

So are relationships. These are outmoded concepts for us.

But what about love? Surely people still fall in love?

We have developed beyond love, Mr. Rimmer.

That is a short-term hormonal distraction

which interferes with the pure pursuit of personal advancement.

We are holograms. There is no risk of disease or pregnancy.

That is why in our society, we only believe in sex...

constant, guilt-free sex.

Poor Mr Rimmer. I fear he is in great danger.

I'm trying to get them to handshake, but they're not responding on any frequency.

Well, I say let's break out the laser cannons and give 'em both barrels.

An adroit suggestion, sir, with just two minor drawbacks...

OK! Forget it!

There's nothing to shoot at. Look at the readouts. Zero mass.

- Of course! A holoship. - A holoship?

The project was in its initial phase when I left the solar system.

Ships of no mass or volume, able to travel as super-light particles -

tachyons - through wormholes and stargates,

crewed by holograms of great genius and bravery.

And they've taken Rimmer? He should fit in just perfectly.

Now I understand why they didn't bother with a handshake.

Holocrews are legendarily arrogant.

They despise stupidity wherever they see it, and they see it everywhere.

Hang on, I'm getting another energy emission.

Binks to Enlightenment. Have arrived on the derelict. Confirm initial speculation.

There is absolutely nothing of any value or interest here.

It's one of the old Class 2 ship-to-surface vessels,

the very model, in fact, that was withdrawn due to major flight design flaws.

Crew, three. One Series 4000 mechanoid - almost burnt out.

Give it maybe three years. Nothing of salvageable value.

Ah, Felis sapiens, bred from the domestic house cat and about half as smart.

No value in future study of this species.

What have we here? A human being, or a very close approximation.

Chronological age, mid-20s. Physical age, 47.

Grossly overweight, unnecessarily ugly, otherwise would recommend it for the museum.

Apart from that. Of no value or interest.

Lister to Red Dwarf. We have in our midst a complete smeg-pot.

Brains in the anal region. Chin absent, presumed missing.

Genitalia small and inoffensive, of no value or interest.

Binks to Enlightenment. Evidence of primitive humour.

The human has knowledge of irony, satire and imitation.

With patient tuition could maybe master simple tasks.

Lister to Red Dwarf. Displays evidence of spoiling for a rumble.

Seems unable to grasp simple threats.

With careful pummelling, could possibly be sucking tomorrow's lunch through a straw.

Binks to Enlightenment. The human is under the delusion

that he is somehow able to bestow physical violence to a hologram.

Lister to Red Dwarf. The intruder seems to be blissfully unaware

that we have a rather sturdy holowhip in the munitions cabinet,

and unless he wants his derriére minced like burger meat,

he'd better be history in two seconds flat.

Binks to Enlightenment. Recon mission complete, transmit.

With speed, Enlightenment. Quickly, please!

Captain, Mr Rimmer from the mining ship Red Dwarf.

Mr Rimmer. Oh, my word. It is one of the old Class 1 holograms

I didn't realise you guys were still around. Captain Hercule Platini,

IQ 212. Number One.

(RUSSIAN ACCENT) Commander Natalina Pushkin, IQ 201.

Commander Randy Navarro, IQ 194.

Second Technician Arnold Rimmer, IQ unknown.

- Captain, this is a magnificent ship. - So it should be, Mr Rimmer.

After all, it was designed to carry the hologrammatic cream of the Space Corps.

Every crew member is the top gun in his or her field.

This is a ship, Mr Rimmer, of superhumans.

Which is why, Captain, I feel I could really belong here.

Are you serious?

Everything I want in my life is here on this ship. I want to join you.

Ah, but Mr Rimmer, you are not an officer.

Captain, I've been in effective command of Red Dwarf now for nearly four years.

I've guided that ragamuffin, ragtail crew of whacked-out crazies and hippy peaceniks through hell and back.

If I gave the order, those guys would crawl on their bellies across broken glass with their flies unzipped.

So don't tell me I'm not an officer, Captain,

just because in deep space, there's no academy around to award me my pips.

- You've got to take me. - Unfortunately, it's not that simple, Mr Rimmer.

The Enlightenment already has a full ship's complement.

The only way in is "Dead Man's Boots".

You'll have to challenge an existing crew member.

There are tests which tax the entire vista of your intellect.

Oh.

Tests that probe every aspect of your mental capability.

Ah.

Should you win, your opponent's run time would be terminated

and their life-force would be used to generate you.

Who will be my opponent?

Well, I'm sure our computer will come up with the most stimulating match-up.

It has stochastic capabilities.

It predicts the future with only a 5% error margin,

simply by extrapolating the most likely outcome of all known variables.

I am asking it for your best chance of success.

And here it is. Your best shot is crew member 4172.

You have a 96% probability of failure.

Mr Rimmer, you have 24 hours to prepare.

Well, thank you, Commander, for a most fascinating afternoon.

It's been most... fascinating.

Perhaps, if you're not in any great rush, Mr Rimmer, we could retire to my quarters and have sex for a few hours.

That was just unbelievable.

It's never been like that before.

Was it OK?

It was... different.

- Different? - You make love like a Japanese meal -

small portions, but so many courses.

- Look, Nirvanah... - We must dress and go now.

- Look, Nirvanah, what I'm trying to say... - Please, don't say anything.

I hope you didn't get me wrong just then. That meant nothing to me. Truly, less than nothing, really.

Good.

- We may as well have been playing tennis. - As it should be.

I, er... don't suppose you fancy a tie-break?

I'm sorry. I've got things I should do.

Niet problemski.

You know... we usually talk.

- What do you talk about? - Oh, research,

new theories, mission profiles.

I'm sorry. I must have seemed very ignorant.

I hardly said anything apart from "Geronimo".

Thank you for the workout.

Dress.

Transmit.

Privacy off.

Commander, some amusing news. Stocky has chosen you to meet our guest's challenge.

What you're suggesting is immoral and illegal. Mind-patching is outlawed.

- But it IS possible? - Possible but highly dangerous.

The side effects can be devastating. You could be reduced to a gibbering simpleton.

Reduced?

I dont care, I'm prepared to take the chance.

- Even if it costs your mind? - It's a small price to pay.

Look, on that ship I can touch, I can feel, I can taste.

I'm not a half man anymore. With them I'm whole again.

Rimmer, they're a bunch of arrogant, pompous, emotionally weird, stuck-up megalomaniacs.

Do you really think you're going to fit in with them?

What am I saying? Bon voyage.

He's right, sir. Why would you want to throw in with people like that?

To be somebody, I want to have a position of authority on a scout ship exploring unchartered space,

work alongside educated men and women, officers, people who count.

Lister, this is my one chance to seize my dream, to be with the winners.

- Look at me. What do you see? - Tell me.

You see a sad and lonely guy. A guy who left home at 16 to become an officer and a gentleman

and ended up as a chicken soup machine operative.

Is it any wonder my father had four strokes?

Is it any wonder he used to sit by the window and dribble?

I did that to him. Me.

Look, there's nothing wrong with what you did. It was just a job.

- You ARE your job. - Oh, not so, sir!

Now, was Albert Camus a goalkeeper or a philosopher?

Was Albert Einstein an clerk in a patent office or the greatest physicist who ever lived?

And, of course, there's the oft-told tale of the simple carpenter's son

who went on to own the largest chain of pizza stores in history, Harry Beedlebaum.

Kryten, Albert Einstein didn't spend the best years of his life

picking out lumps of desiccated poultry from the end of his nozzle cleaner.

That doesn't make you a failure.

It does in my parents' eyes. It does in my brothers' eyes.

It does in the eyes of everyone WITH eyes. That's exactly what it makes me.

Sir, I beg you to reconsider. If not for your sanity,

you haven't even considered the moral implications of your decision.

You will be joining a society where you will be compelled to have sex

with beautiful, brilliant women twice daily on demand.

Now, am I really the only one here who finds that just a little bit tacky?

Well, quite clearly I am.

Sir, I've uploaded the two candidates to be inserted into your mind -

Science Officer Buchan, excellent scientific background, 169 IQ,

and Flight Coordinator McQueen, superlative mathematician, 172 IQ.

Now, even taking into account the enormous drag factor of your own mind,

I still think we'll come up with something pretty special.

But I will still have control?

You'll have access to their knowledge, but your personality will have the power of veto.

But, sir, I implore you to reconsider. If not for yourself, then for the poor officer whose life you will take.

Wasn't it St Francis of Assisi himself who said, "Never give a sucker an even break"?

Well, if he did, sir, it was strictly off the record.

- Come on, Kryten. Get on with it. - Commencing integration.

Glory or insanity awaits.

- He's read every book in the medical library? - In under three hours.

The change is quite astonishing. But sir, I feel I should warn you -

this is not the pile of human wreckage we know as Arnold Rimmer.

Prepare yourself.

Sir, we've received the co-ordinates. Perhaps we should be... making tracks?

Kry-ten.

I was just thinking. Assuming, of course, we're not dealing with five-dimensional objects

in a basic Euclidean geometric universe and given the essential premise

that all geomathematics is based on the hideously limiting notion that one plus one equals two

and not as Astermeyer correctly postulates that one and two are in fact the same thing observed from different precepts...

(SNORTS)

..the theoretical shapes described by Sidis must therefore be: a polydridocdecawihedron

a hexasexahedroadicon and a dibidolihedecadodron.

(SNORTS)

- Everything else is poppycock, isn't that so? - Rimmer?

I wrote a palindromic haiku this morning. Perhaps you'd like to hear it?

- I'm afraid we don't speak Japanese, sir. - I could translate it into Mandarin for you?

Rimmer, we don't speak Japanese, we don't speak Mandarin, and we don't speak satsuma.

He is really beginning to get on my pecs.

You must remember, sir, he's operating on a completely different level to us now.

To him, we are the intellectual equivalent of domestic science teachers.

Subject ready for transfer.

Farewell, gentlemen. Glory awaits.

Attention candidates, to preserve the pure intellectual nature of this challenge

you will remain in separate suites.

The questions will come through your headphones in a variety of different languages to confuse and disorient you.

There will be a total of 200,000 questions in this initial session.

After you have completed the tasks at workstation A you may proceed to workstation B.

I shall undertake both tasks simultaneously, if it's all the same to you.

- Mr Rimmer, that is impossible. - Nevertheless, I shall attempt it.

It begins.

(BLEEPING AND TAPPING)

Erm, you sound like exactly what we're looking for. Are there any questions that you would like to ask us?

I just want to get one thing clear in my mind.

This is an opportunity to be revived as a hologram and become a part of the crew...

...and the crew is you three?

Basically, you spend your time salvaging derelict spaceships, playing poker and eating curries.

- We don't do that much salvaging. - But you do sound like you eat a lot of curries.

We don't eat curry every night, if that's what you think.

In fact, I remember quite clearly last June, Mr Lister had a pizza. Remember?

- Yeah. - And you didn't like it.

But then I poured curry sauce over it, and he yummed it up.

And the all-night poker sessions, is it always strip poker?

- It depends on how drunk we are. - Or how much curry he's had.

So - and this is probably sounds like a stupid question -

you don't really have much interest in horse riding or ballet?

Fine by us, yeah. As long as we can have a curry afterwards, we're cool.

Of course, there's one or two other people that we have to see,

but, in theory, if we offered you the post of replacement hologram would you accept?

- No. - No.

- No, I think I'm better off where I am. - But you're dead!

And meeting you guys has really made me appreciate it a whole lot more.

Well, thank you, Ms Harrison.

- Thank you. Thank you very much. - Next.

Next candidate, Deck Sergeant Sam Murray.

Ah, Sam. Now, as Holly will have told you...

- My own mind's come back! You gotta help me. - Well, what happened exactly?

Was it a slow deterioration in your own intelligence or did it happen in seconds?

Seconds. I'm in the middle of the assessment, you've got to give me another mind-patch, pronto.

I'm sorry, sir. It's classic rejection syndrome.

Once the minds are unmeshed, there is nothing we can do.

What are you talking about?

You just don't have the sort of brain that can accept an implant, sir.

- No! - I'm sorry, sir.

- There must be something you can do? - I'm afraid not.

But I'm winning, I'm so close... Who's this?

I'm not even gone and you're choosing my replacement!

- We thought you weren't coming back. - Well, you should've known better, shouldn't you?

You actually expect something to go right for me? Arnold "Schmucko" Rimmer?

Tosspot by Royal Appointment?

Well, where are you going, sir?

I'm going to withdraw.

I hear you're doing well in the assessment.

(MUTTERS SNIDELY)

Well, listen, if you make it through maybe you'd like to have sex sometime next week?

- I'm free Wednesday morning. - I'm sorry, I'm busy Wednesday. I'm killing myself.

(LIFT) Floor 6120 - botanical gardens.

Arnie, where've you been?

To hell and back.

- I've withdrawn from the challenge. - But you're winning.

- I was using a mind-patch. - A mind-patch? Are you insane?!

I would've done anything to get on this ship. Every time I look in the mirror, I see this.

Only to me, it doesn't mean hologram, it means "halfwit",

"hopeless", "hideous failure".

This was a chance to be somebody. Somebody I liked.

I've never met anyone like you before.

- Everyone says that. - Listen to me, mister.

Underneath all that neurotic mess is someone nice trying to get out.

someone who deserves a chance to grow.

So you won't give up, OK?

- OK? - I cheated.

You're going to win, Arnie. You're going to get your dream. I promise you.

You really think?

I really think.

- I won. - What?!

My opponent withdrew. I won. I'm an officer. I leave tonight.

Look, I'm not good at big speeches,

and I know I haven't always been an easy guy to get on with.

And I know that, given the choice, I probably wouldn't have chosen you as friends.

But I just want to say that over the years,

I have come to regard you as... people... I met.

- I'd just better go, OK? - See you, smeghead.

- Transfer. - Transfer.

Here are your quarters, Mr Rimmer.

There must be some mistake, these are Commander Crane's quarters.

Oh, didn't you know? She was your opponent.

Navigation Officer Rimmer reporting, sir.

Arnold, welcome aboard. I trust everything's to your sa-

Permission to speak, sir.

I wish to resign my commission, sir.

Resign. May I ask your reasoning, please?

Flight Commander Crane has taken leave of her senses and fallen in love with me, sir.

Love? (SCOFFS) Surely not.

Commander Crane is far too intellectually advanced to submit to a mere short-term hormonal imbalance.

That's why she withdrew from the challenge and allowed me to win, sir.

Mr Rimmer, what you are suggesting is that somehow she cared more for your happiness than she did for her own life.

Am I? Yes, sir. I suppose I am, sir.

And now you are doing something equally unfathomable, resigning so that she can be reinstated,

even though here, you could have everything -

a position of command, an effective physical presence, everything.

Perhaps you'd be kind enough to pass this note on to her, sir.

I understand your gesture, but your really your resignation solves nothing.

After all, the two of you will still be... apart.

- Permission to return to Red Dwarf, sir. - Granted.

Oh, and, sir, you're wrong.

We won't be apart, we just... won't be together.

I cannot believe I just said that.

# 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 #