Original subtitles

(KRYTEN) Last week on Red Dwarf

(SQUEALS) something terrible happened to Mr Lister's arm!

Watch this!

Hey, guys, check this out! There's a woman in there!

I've been tongue-hockeyed to death!

You know how you told us all to work on a solution to Mr. Epideme, no matter how drastic?

Yeah, what have you got, Kryts?

My left arm, I said! That's my right! What kind of navigation officer can't tell left from right?

- We did the best we could. I am so sorry. - Mr Lister, sir, you're awake!

Buddy, you look great!

("RED DWARF" THEME)

(TUNELESS STRUMMING)

Oh, bravo, sir! You see, there's no need for despondency. You can still play the guitar!

Yeah, look on the bright side. At least now I'm only half crap.

- We should still count all our blessings, sir. - Kryten's right.

The Epideme virus may have cost you a limb, but there are countless people who have lost an arm

and gone on to lead a perfectly "normal" life.

- Like who? - Oh, there are thousands, sir.

- Thousands upon thousands upon thousands. - Like?

- More than thousands. - Who?

- Millions! - Who?!

- Well, I don't know if I can name them all individually. - Name one.

One? Hmm... You want me to name as many as that?

- Lord Nelson. He beat the French. - Lord Nelson! Thank you, ma'am.

- He beat the French. - Who else?

- Well, er.... - The Venus de Milo.

The Venus de Milo. No arms at all, but that certainly didn't prevent her

from pursuing a highly successful modelling career.

- Go on. - Go on?

You said there were millions. That's two, and one of them's a statue. So go on, name five.

Five? Right. well, there's, um...

There's Lord Nelson, and, er... Ms de Milo,

and then there's the... well...

- Help us! Er, the... - The painter dude!

- What painter dude? - The Welsh guy. You know?

The one with one arm. Van Gogogoch.

He had one ear, Cat. He cut the other one off.

- He did? - Yes.

See? That dude manages to cut off his own ear with just one arm

and you're worried about not leading a normal life.

There must be more... Erm, that guy from "The Fugitive". He had one arm. What was his name?

- The One-Armed Man. - That's him! See, that's three.

- He was a murderer - Was he?

Yeah, he killed Dr Richard Kimble's wife.

But that proves my point. You see, if that guy can murder a perfectly able-bodied woman

minus a major extremity, then I don't think you've got anything to worry about.

Come on, let's face it, guys. There aren't any noteworthy one-armed people from history.

- You can't even name five. - Of course we can, look!

Horatio Nelson, the one-armed guy from "The Fugitive",

the Venus de Milo, Van Gogh and... one more...

That Mexican dude!

- The one who robbed people! - What one who robbed people?

The one-armed bandit!

That's a machine, you gimp! One of the most popular pub games of the 20th century.

And it only had one arm? What a heart-warming story.

- Dave Lister. There. That's five. - I'm going to the loo.

I don't actually need to go now, but seeing as it takes 45 minutes to un-button me flies, I should probably make a start.

Do you need a hand?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean... Sorry. Sorry. Sorry! Sorry!

Sorry...

- Biscuit, sir? - Please.

- Another bik-bik? - Yes, please.

- Kryten? What are you doing? - I'm just dunking bikkies, ma'am.

It's another of life's joys of which poor Mr Lister has been robbed. Isn't that right, sir?

Could you give my nose a tweak? I've got a bit of an itch.

Why can't you itch it yourself. You've still got one arm.

- There. Is that better, sir? - Yeah, a bit.

Kryten, I told you before, he wants to be independent.

He doesn't need you running around after him like he's some kind of invalid.

- But he does, he does! Don't you, sir? - (SIGHS)

- Another slurp of tea, sir? - Oh, this is making me sick.

Don't take any notice of her, sir. It's nearly suppertime.

Chuckie-eggs tonight, sir, with your toast cut up

into little, tiny, weeny, bite-sized soldiers of varying ranks.

- Thanks Kryts, but really I can cut up my own toast. - Hm, it's just like you asked for, sir.

- Asked for? - Now, just remember, sir, 'Kryten knows best'!

I'm gonna stretch me legs, take a walk around the ship.

Just opening the door for you, sir. There we go. Door's open, sir.

- Cheers. - Just closing the door now, sir.

The door's closing, sir. The door's nearly closing. And it's closed, sir.

Florence Nightingdroid, could I have a word?

Certainly, ma'am.

Look, deep down I'm a big softie.

The first time I saw "Gone with the Wind", I went through a whole box of tissues.

"'Now, Voyager", I was so choked up, I couldn't speak for 20 minutes.

I'll make a note, ma'am. "Now Voyager".

Worth keeping on stand-by. Carry on, ma'am!

I'm saying I'm not a heartless bitch,

so you'll understand that what I'm about to say isn't easy.

Back off Lister. Let him learn to cope on his own, it's the only way.

- I don't understand, ma'am. - By helping him, you're not helping him.

If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't even be wearing underpants!

Have you ever heard of something called "tough love"?

- Does it involve dressing up? - No.

It means sometimes, to help a person, you have to get tough,

make them stand on their own two feet - or in Lister's case, one hand!

I see. So you think it's time to let him start brushing his own teeth again?

I do, yes. I also think it's time you built him an artificial arm

and gave him a chance not to be so dependant on you.

I was meaning to get round to that, ma'am, but what with being on 24-hour wipe alert, I haven't had time!

Wipe alert? No, don't even tell me what that means.

Because I have a feeling I know, and if I'm right it's the grossest thing I've ever heard!

His mouth, ma'am, I help him get rid of the crumbs around his mouth.

Yeah, that's what I thought, and it's absolutely gross.

Mouth crumbs. Eurgh! Disgusting!

It's a real sonofabitch about your arm, bud. Losing an arm, that is one terrible thing.

- Your move. - Can you imagine that?

One minute, you got two arms, and the next - zing...doof! - you got one.

Hoo-ee! That's tough.

Your move.

And it stands to reason we must need two arms. That's why we got two arms!

Well, except you.

Your move.

You're probably wondering, "Is it going to affect my life?" and I've been thinking about this

I think the answer is, "Yes, it is."

Your smegging move.

If it were me, I couldn't survive. First chance I'd get,

I'd climb to the top of my tallest pair of platform boots and leap to my death or something.

- I couldn't stand the thought of not being perfect. - Your move.

But with you I think it's different. Take a pit bull terrier, a real ugly sonofabitch.

It loses its leg somehow and the pit bull says to you, "Hey, man! I've only got three legs.

"Will lady pit bulls still like me?"

I mean, you've gotta stop from laughing, haven't you?

He's ugly with four legs! He's ugly with three!

Hell, he'd be ugly if you put him in a suit and gave him a carnation.

So here's something I think is gonna cheer you up!

It's your move.

- Mr Pit Bull? Put it there, buddy! - MOVE!

OK, OK. I'm going!

I don't think you've been listening to a thing I've said.

Now, this is a copy of the standard model from the 21st century. Comfortable, sir?

- It's fine, yeah. - OK, now let's recap -

the limb is connected to neurons that run up to the left hemisphere of your brain,

which controls the right side of your body.

Now all you have to do is merely command the arm to do something, and it obeys.

Now, let's practise.

Right, now concentrate, sir. I want you to think, "Arm, pick up the ball."

OK? Now just think, "I will pick up the ball."

- I will pick up the ball. - That's right. Now good. Now concentrate.

- I will pick up the ball. - OK, now really think,

- "Hand, pick up the ball..." - I will pick up the ball.

- That's right. - Hand, pick up the ball.

- "Hand, pick up the ball". That's right sir. - Hand, pick up the ball!

- Now keep going, sir. Keep that thought going. - Pick up the ball!

- Now focus down onto that and keep it going! - Pick. Up. The ball!

"Hand, pick up the ball!" That's right, sir. Now keep going now, really think, now.

"Hand, pick up the ball!" Now let's really get it going, sir!

- "Pick up the ball! Hand, pick up the ball'" - (GRITTED TEETH) Pick. Up. The Ball

Really start to move it now, sir! "Hand, pick up the ball!" now let's keep moving

Keep going, sir! You CAN do it! "Hand, pick up the ball!" You're going to move that hand, sir!

You're going to move it! Move that hand, sir! "Hand, pick up the ball!"

Pick up the ball! Yes, sir! Yes! We've got some movement, sir!

Yes! The finger is moving! Keep goin- Yes!

Oh! Bravo, sir!

- Oh! The sweat's dripping off me! - Oh, that was fantastic, sir, absolutely marvellous!

- It worked like a dream! - Is that it?

- Well, how do you mean sir? - Is that the best it works?

In other words if I ever want to pick up a ball am I going to have to take the morning off?

It was a tad slow, I'm forced to admit.

A tad? The only thing I've ever seen pick up slower is Rimmer in a disco.

Well, maybe if I adjust the impulse valve, it might make it a little more sensitive.

OK, let's try again. "Hand, pick up the ball."

OK. Hand, pick up the ball.

(CLUNK)

OK. Right. Well, er, let's try again.

- OK? - Now, "Hand, pick up the ball."

Hand, pick up the ball.

I think, sir, that there's a lot of anger inside you and that's what's driving the arm.

- I don't feel angry. - Well, you've lost your arm, sir.

- You have every right to feel angry. - I don't! I promise, I don't!

Well, you see, it's subconscious. You're thinking, "Hand, pick up the ball,"

but your subconscious is saying, "Punch Kryten in the head.

"Beat the brains out of the demented droid that cut off my beloved arm." Am I right?

- Kryten, that's rubbish! - (CLANG)

You're right! It's controlled by my subconscious!

It's far too dangerous to let you out with that arm, sir.

Two minutes with Miss Kochanski and who knows what you'd be swinging around your head?

There must be a solution to this.

Hey, half-eaten-lollipop-head, what about one of your spares?

- Whaddaya say, motherboarder? - Too heavy, sir.

With the strain and extra weight it would be impossible for Mr Lister even to get it up.

He could always take it off if he was going on a date.

Can someone take him outside and do something to him?

Ideally involving ice cubes and any puckered body cavity.

Wait a minute. What about your self-repair system? Can't that help?

- Ma'am? - When you have a mechanical failure,

it fixes itself, doesn't it?

The Kryten back in my dimension had these tiny little robots. Subatomic?

Nanobots. They break objects down into their component atoms,

then recombine those atoms to repair damaged circuits.

- Nanotechnology. - Just for me... could you run that by me one more time,

but this time do the big-writing version with pictures, one word a page?

Let me think of a cogent paradigm.

I'd rather have a good example.

This is a lead pencil. It's made of graphite,

which is a particular arrangement of carbon atoms.

This is diamond. It too is made of carbon atoms.

Nanobots can rearrange atoms so they could take this lead pencil,

move the atoms around a bit and turn it into diamond.

It's possible to make diamonds out of pencils?

It's also possible to make computer chips out of sand.

So what happened if we transferred some of your nanobots into Dave?

Wouldn't they be able to build him a new arm from his excess body tissue?

Unfortunately, ma'am, it's not possible, no.

- Why not? - I no longer have any nanobots, sir. They deserted me.

When and where, I can't be exactly certain.

But if we were to find these nanobots, could they build be a new arm?

But finding them would be close to impossible, sir.

It would be like looking for a needle in a male student's flat.

- When was the last repair they made? - When we on the Esperanto, just before we met the Despair Squid.

(TUTS) That was ages ago, before we lost the Dwarf.

- That's why I've given up hope of ever finding them - Let's set a course back to the Esperanto.

But I promise you it's futile, sir.

I'll start preparing the suspended animation booths.

Hang on a minute, we're not there. Where the smeg are we?

The computer's brought us out of deep sleep early. Must have picked up something.

Maybe it's something to do with this planetoid directly ahead?

Just scanning, sir... No, that's ridiculous.

- What is? - It's not even worth mentioning, ma'am.

Must be a scanner fault. Rescanning.

- What? Again? - What is it, man?

You look shakier than a silicon implant ward during an earthquake.

Well, according to all our scanners, that planetoid out there is... Red Dwarf.

- Gah! Must be on the blink. - Of course it's on the blink.

We're talking about the same piece of equipment that last month that detected a planet entirely populated by air hostesses.

We spent two weeks checking that out.

I knew we gave up to soon! It was worth at least one more week.

- However, there is one additional factor. - Which is?

- That we've been here before. - Of course we have, it's the cockpit, dummy!

We come here all the time.

I mean this sector of the galaxy, sir. Doesn't it look familiar?

Kryten, it's space. Black with twinkly bits. It all looks familiar.

If you look to the port side, sir, that planet in the distance is the ocean world where we discovered the Esperanto.

That was just before we lost Red Dwarf.

- Are you thinking what I'm thinking? - I'm thinking wearing leather underpants

with silver studs is a real mistake if you put them on inside out.

- What are you thinking? - Me? I'm thinking about a wooden mallet, you and ice cubes again.

- This planetoid, let's check it out. - According to the weather scan it's beautiful down there.

Tropical temperatures, not a cloud in sight. Suggest we dress for snow and take the buggy.

(THUNDER CRASHES, WIND HOWLS)

Ok, go and take some readings and grab some soil samples.

- Looks kinda blowy. - It's an electric storm, wooshing the sand about.

You can say that again! There must be more electricity out there than the surge that went through the National Grid,

during the commercial break in the Olympic all-girl custard wrestling finals.

(WIND HOWLS WILDLY)

Phew!

I can't believe you're here. How did you persuade Kryten to let you out?

He's not my mum, Kris. I hope the Cat's not too long, I promised I'd be back by tea.

Joke.

It's impossible out there!

- Do you need some different goggles? - No, I need a comb!

- Sweet? - Thanks.

- Here, have another one. - I can do it.

- Look, don't be silly. Let me. - I can do it, really. I'm not an idiot.

(GAGS AND SPLUTTERS)

(WIND HOWLS)

Can I ask you a question? Now that I've got no arm, does it...

does it make any difference to anything?

I mean, if you were a female pit bull terrier,

how would you feel about a three-legged?

Does it make any difference to - plucking any old relationship out of the air - us?

Dave, before you lost your arm, I thought you were a no-good, disgusting bum.

- And I still do. So no, none at all. - I need to know is this gonna make any difference to women?

Losing an arm isn't going to make any difference to any woman who cares about you. Ok?

- Really? - Really.

- What about sex? - Not here. It's too sandy.

- How did you get on? - Take a look.

This sand. These atoms didn't start out as sand atoms. They've been engineered nanobotically.

- From what? - Computer chips, you name it.

According to the particle analyser, this planetoid is Red Dwarf.

- Where are you going? - I'm gonna need some help!

There's a lot of stuff out there looks like it might be worth checking out!

What stuff?

Hey, it feels like the storm's easing off!

Come and see for yourself!

Oh, I was beginning to worry! Oh! What on earth is this?

The whole damn planetoid's packed with stuff from Red Dwarf.

Supplies, bunks, drinks dispensers, you name it.

- It's like a giant car boot sale! - I think we got some valuable stuff!

What? Napkin rings? A box of hairnet requisition forms?

A motorised tie rack and an inflatable shark?

- What a haul (!) - There must be some useful stuff.

I couldn't see what I was getting.

All right, dudes?

- What the smeg are you doing here, Hol? - Those little wotsits.

- Nanobots? - They remolicurised...

They remolic... They remol...

Anyway, they did that word that I can't say to the whole ship

and left all the bits they didn't want on that planetoid!

So, what? They fixed your core program, and then decided they'd be better off without you?

Yeah, it was shortly after they'd met me.

Well, from one machine to another, welcome back online, Holly!

What's happened to him? That's quite horrific, isn't it?

What was it, a cheap razor? It's just not worth buying them from garages, is it?

- Don't you remember me? I'm Kryten. - Kryten?

I'm sorry, mate.

it's the way the light was shining on your - what's the right word? - "face" I suppose.

I just didn't recognise you for a minute. Never forget a face, usually. Never.

- It's good to see you again. - And you are?

Unbelievable. Dumped on a planet in the middle of an electro-storm

and left to rot for hundreds of years, and the guy's lost nothing.

So, while we were on the Esperanto, your nanobots mutinied and took over Red Dwarf?

They wanted a ship. In my body there was nothing new to explode, but Red Dwarf itself was far too big.

But they're nanobots. They can change anything into anything else.

Yeah, they can take a Pot Noodle and turn it into food.

So they took Red Dwarf, made a subatomic version,

and turned the rest of the atoms into a planetoid for safe keeping?

So what was it we spent months chasing? What was producing that vapour trail?

- Red Dwarf. - Did someone just turn over two pages at once?

We were chasing the nano-Red Dwarf. That's why the readings were so minute and hard to pinpoint.

So now they could be anywhere? You pursued them across half the galaxy.

Until we finally lost track of the readings - probably another scanner malfunction.

That, or they went somewhere out of reach of your scanners.

But we were gaining on them, bud. How could they out run us?

Scanners are programmed to scan on the outside. To escape, they just had to stop.

You mean, the nanos could be in here, on board Starbug somewhere?

Hey, he could be right.

He's back. Kicking bottom or what?

Recalibrating scanner, sir. Performing internal sweep.

- What are you getting? - Nothing yet.

Just two pieces of Bombay aloo you dropped several millennia ago down the service ducts,

where they appear to evolved a rudimentary intelligence and formed a progressive folk duo.

- Damn scanner. - Keep looking.

Narrowing parameters. Oh.

Oh, my. You were right, sir. I think we've found them.

Where?

They're there, OK.

So Red Dwarf spent the last two years exploring strange new worlds in my laundry basket?

Of course, the ship is now so small that to the nanos

a hole in one of your athletic supports is at least the size of a galaxy!

Hey, I like the sound of that - Dave Lister, the man with the galaxy-sized jockstrap.

Little scamps! It's the oldest trick in the book.

Capture your ship, turn it into a planet,

then explore a macro-universe in a laundry basket.

How could you fall for an old scam like that?

Ma'am, can you tell me if the readings change.

(FAINT BLEEPING)

Same.

Still the same.

- Still the same! - They've changed!

Ha! Nailed the little blighters! After all the embarrassment they've caused me!

Kris, see if you can find a frequency to establish contact.

Leave it to me, sir. I know to make contact.

Can you hear me, you pesky little critters?

We want our ship back and we want a new arm for Mr Lister! Are you receiving me?

- (BLEEPING) - Ah, we have contact.

They're communicating in machine code. Leave the talking to me.

Have you any idea what you've done, deserting your droid?

You've broken every reg in the manual!

(ELECTRONIC CONVERSATIONAL NOISES)

And to compound matters by stealing our ship, it's unbelievably...

Er... It's unbelievably... naughty.

(DEFIANT SOUNDING NOISES)

Now, listen up. Here's the deal.

We want that planetoid turned back into Red Dwarf

and we also want you to build a new arm for Mr Lister.

- (HIGH-PITCHED WHINE) - If you don't, you'll get more of this.

(ELECTRONIC SQUEALING)

So they'll really manufacture me a new arm from my existing skin and bone tissue?

I've got them worked up into such a frenzy, sir, they'll do anything I say.

- Where are they? - Here.

On the tip of my finger, sir. Millions and millions of them.

All I have to do now is insert them into your body.

What with?

- Hypodermic, sir. - Thank God for that.

I can't bear to look. Has it worked? Someone tell me!

Let's all turn around after three.

(CAT) One, two, three!

- Has it worked? - It's been a 100 per cent success, sir.

In fact, it's been a 500 per cent success!

In fact, they've... Well, if that's all, sir,

I think I'll retire for the evening. Goodnight!

Release me, Kris. I've gotta see it.

They probably didn't mean any harm.

I think they were trying to make up for before. We'll get them to have another go, OK?

Aaaaaaaaarrrrrgh!

(CAT) Hey! Nice rebuild! Those nano-dudes have done a real neat job.

Hey, it seems even bigger than I remember.

Er, guys,

we've got a problem!

# 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 #