All language subtitles for 11-06 Can Of Worms

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

(BEEPING)

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.

Hypothetically...
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
wimpoplasty?

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.

(ALARM SOUNDING)

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.

(SOBBING)

(MONITOR BEEPS)

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.

MERCENOID:
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.

Leave.

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

That is my business, not yours.

LISTER:
You can trust us, you really can.

RIMMER:
You will achieve all your dreams.

Size doesn't matter.

You are very handsome.

(GROWLS)

And women think
you're extremely attractive.

Actually, that's not really true,

so drop your weapon
and turn round slowly.

(LISTER SIGHS)

(MERCENOID GROANS)

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.

Ow!

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.
- (CAT PURRS)

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

Oooow!

Ooooooow!

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.

CAT:
# Seemed so wrong

# But now it seems so right

# What a lady, what a night

(SCATTING)

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.

C'mon.

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.

Depositing her what into what?

Sir, we need to get you to the science
room and give you a full medical.

Morphling? What's a morphling?

- We'll tell you later.
- Eh?

When you're securely strapped
to a medi-bed.

Just to explain the ultrasound, sir,

the probe sends a pulse
through your skin

and into your body,
and the echo bounces back,

which allows us to make sure
that everything is...

Oh, my God.

Hey, what the hell's happening?

We're just checking, sir.

How many are there?

One, two, three, four.

What about them two? Five, six.

And those down there, seven, eight.

- We've gotta tell him.
- So tell him.

- Er, better coming from Kryten.
- Why me?

Because you've got
a better bedside manner

when it comes to telling patients
they're raddled with polymorphs.

Hey, hey, what are you saying?
Are you talking about me?

Sir, I have some bad news.

You are pregnant
with eight polymorph eggs.

When they hatch,
they will literally burst out of you

using the nearest orifice available.

You mean rather than forming
an orderly queue?

What the hell we gonna do?

First, I think it's essential
that you eat something, sir.

You've got to have all your strength
to fight against them.

They're currently depriving your body of
many essential vitamins.

I can't eat at a time like this.

Sir, you must try.

I just want these things out of me.

Have you thought about a caesarean?

- Okay.
- Are you sure?

Yeah, but no croutons.

It's not a salad, you gimboid.

It's an operation where
they laser open your abdomen.

I think it's your only chance
of survival, sir.

Hey, there's no way...
(GROANS IN PAIN)

Thank God
I didn't have that cowardectomy.

We need to sedate him somehow.

Wise words, sir.

Well, at least that's bought us
some time.

We just need to get cleaned up
and do this.

Scalpel.

- Scalpel.
- Scalpel.

Has someone been playing around with
the settings on this thing?

Oh.

Right. I'm going in.

Hang on, look at the scanner.

The morphlings are going crazy.

What are they turning into?

Tumours. They know we're trying to
extract them early

and they're fighting fire with fire.

We kill them, they kill him.

What do we do?

We have to let them be born
in the normal way.

Do you mean normal as in shooting out of
every orifice simultaneously?

It'll be a bit like me
after a dodgy egg bhuna.

(CAT SCREAMING)

(SCREAMING)

KRYTEN: They're assuming the shapes of
household objects

and trying to blend in.

(CAT SCREAMING)

(CAT CONTINUES SCREAMING)

LISTER: Oh, we've got a wriggler.

(SCREAMS)

(GROANING)

LISTER: Oh, it's gonna be so hard

flushing this lot into deep space.
They're so cute.

KRYTEN:
Sir, it's their defence mechanism.

They're trying to avoid
being flushed into space.

Look there's a chinchilla
with a pink hat

and a hamster on a skateboard.

LISTER: Those Dalmatian puppies,
look at them.

And like a hedgehog in a top hat,

sitting inside a mini shopping trolley.

Aw.

Sirs, they are doing this on purpose
to make us feel guilty.

You must remember what they're going to
turn into when they reach maturity.

I mean, most things look adorable
when they're first born,

even velociraptors,
even The Rolling Stones.

- So cute.
- Sir, they're evil genetic mutants.

I should flush 'em.

I got us into this mess,
I should be the one to get us out of it.

Are you sure?

I just wanna have a minute
to say goodbye.

We'll be just round the corner, sir.

Oh, look at that one. That one is cute.

Sir...

How long's he gonna be?

He's gone!
Oh, why didn't I anticipate this?

He's been affected by the oxytocin
hormone released by the morphlings.

- The what?
- It's a hormone

that the morphlings excrete
to ensure their hosts look after them

until they're strong enough to
stand on their own six suckers.

- And then devour his emotions.
- Precisely.

We've gotta find him.

We have to narrow down
the search somehow.

I've got an idea.

Turn off all the heat in the ship
apart from in the diesel decks,

- so it'll drive him down there.
- And then what?

Track them down undetected.

They are polymorphs, they feed off
emotions, they will sense us.

Not if one of us has got no emotions
as they've had them all removed.

Hey?

Listy, if you have a personality tuck to
remove your emotions, we're sorted.

That stupid tuck machine? Why me?

Kryten's the only one who knows how
to operate it, so I can't be him.

It can't be me obviously,
that leaves you.

- Why can't it be you?
- Don't interrupt.

Then after the tuck, you'll be able to
walk amongst the morphlings undetected.

They feed on human emotions.

And if you've got no emotions,
they won't know you're there.

And what will happen to my emotions?

We'll just download your brain.

Kryten, have a five-megabyte
memory stick on standby.

Will do, sir.

Oh, I'm not sure about this.

Ah, you're done. Excellent.

I haven't started yet, sir.

Mr Lister?

Sorry, I was miles away.

Are you ready, sir?

Yeah, c'mon, let's do it.

(MACHINE BEEPS AND WHIRS)

- Let's send him in then get this done.
- Ah...

- What?
- Well, according to the tracker,

we are now completely
surrounded by life forms.

Morphlings appear to have reached
full maturation quicker than expected.

But what about the cat?

Does that mean they've already scoffed
all his emotions?

Well, according to the tracker,
there are nine life forms.

He's still alive, but barely.

Living in an emotionless semi-state,

his mind almost totally blank.

No change there, then.

But with each polymorph
we eliminate, sir,

part of the Cat's personality
will return.

Hey, buds, I need a hand here.
I'm busted up really bad.

- How did you know that wasn't the Cat?
- I didn't.

- So why did you shoot him?
- Why not?

Help me.

What's wrong with him?

He's got no emotions, sir.

We've turned him into
a dehumanised assassin.

- So what should we do?
- May I suggest, sir, run mode.

Oh, oh, there you are, sir.

I fear Mr Lister may be a polymorph.

That's how he was able to detect
the other polymorphs and kill them.

Why would he be killing them?

Oh, they're known for
killing each other, sir.

That way there's more food
for the victor.

We can't trust anyone.

So how can I trust you?

Well, er, how can I trust you?

And how can I trust either of you?

How many are left?

Mmm, make it six.

Six, yeah, that's right.
And he could be one of them.

- I'm not a polymorph.
- Neither am I.

Nor me.

What do we do? Why am I asking you?

Because I'm not a polymorph,
but you might be.

So might you.

Right, how about we go down
to the science room

and X-ray each other.
That way we can be sure.

Good idea.

ALL: After you, after you, after you...

This is a nightmare.

For crying out loud,
isn't this hard enough already?

Let's get to the science room
and X-ray one another.

Hey, guys! They had me tied up,
but I got away.

What's happening?

There are six polymorphs here
and we don't know who's who.

Ah, I'm sure you'll work it out.
Catch you later. Ow!

KRYTEN: Let's get to the lift.

How did you know who was who?

A mamma always knows her kids.

It's me. Can I come in?

I'm trying to sleep, bud.

Cat, I just wanted to talk to you about
that thing that you're not.

I mean, I know you're not, you know
you're not, we both know you're not.

- Because I'm not.
- Exactly.

But if you were, which you're not,

it wouldn't mean that you were a loser,

it wouldn't mean that you weren't cool.

It would just mean that you hadn't
met the right girl yet.

- But I'm not.
- Exactly.

- So no need to have this talk.
- Exactly.

- So go away.
- I'm gone.

Man, is he annoying.

So damn patronising.

Don't he know a cat
always has two homes?

I tried to tell him,
but he won't listen.

Hey, it's late.

We keep talking and there ain't
gonna be much time for loving.

This is a dream, isn't it?

But look on the bright side,
you haven't woke up yet.

Let's go, pipe me!

# 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 #