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Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.

Stop whatever you're doing, bud!

We're having a crazy golf championship in the medilab.

It's going to be insane!

I don't think so!

You won't say that when you see the course. It's amazing!

Best hole's the fourth, on the autopsy table.

The bath-lift takes you up to the tee.

Out of bounds marked by the commode cushions.

You have to land your drive over the bunion plasters

in-between the two kidney donor dishes.

Then a straight shot into the medical students' practice rectum.

Not now, man. Can't you see I'm cooking?

Steak? What is it, pork?

I found a deep-freeze down on B Deck, next to Kryten's quarters.

Enough for me? Just one steak, one chop, one rib.

Great! Just enough!

Catch you later. Hey!

I'm loving this pork!

Maybe needs a little more soy sauce.

Oww!

Lister, I've been meaning to say...

Books? You've been reading again, haven't you?

Lister, I've told you a million times,

don't read, it messes you up.

It's like giving a hamster, who's only used to his little wheel,

the keys to an Aston Martin.

Crazy things are going to happen.

It's part of my robotics course - I've got to read it.

Makes you feel so inadequate.

You know Mozart was only five

when he wrote Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star?

I wasn't even toilet-trained when I was five.

You've barely mastered it now.

How did these people get to be so great? I mean, Shakespeare.

I don't understand anything he wrote, but, man, what a dude!

Plays, poems, and a whole bunch of expressions.

"A dish fit for a king" - that was Shakespeare.

What a great expression!

Is it, though? Is it a great expression?

"A dish fit for a king?" I say that all the time.

"This is a dish fit for a king!" That's a great expression.

I love that expression. Shakespeare, you've got to hand it to him.

He could really write a good expression.

Who couldn't have thought of that?

"In a pickle" - that was another Shakespeare expression.

"In a pickle." How brilliant is that? You know what it means?

As confused as the mixed-up, stewed, spicy vegetables in a pickle jar.

And how are we supposed to know

what the inside of a 16th-century pickle jar looks like?

And how is that relevant

to our non-pickly lives here in deep space today?

When will people learn?

Shakespeare, it's over!

The money that guy must have made

out of a few lousy expressions and a bad haircut.

Bad haircut?

Don't tell me you haven't noticed his bad haircut?

But because he's had a few hit expressions, he gets away with it.

What's wrong with his haircut? He's got a skullet.

A skull what?

A bald mullet - a skullet.

Bald at the front, mullet at the back.

You wouldn't want to go out in public with this guy.

Sirs, the most incredible news!

Someone's died, and you've been left a new mop? Ohh!

Please, sir, give me some credit.

I'm not the one-dimensional cleaning droid I once was.

I've evolved into something far more complex and multi-layered

and, if I may say so, superior.

Stain. Where? Smudge. Oh, where?!

Smear. Oh! Speck. Oh, speck!

Smeg. Smeg. Smeg!

The crates were in transit, sir.

I opened the first one and found this. What is it?

It's a rejuvenation shower, sir.

It rewinds each individual's genome

and returns the body to any point in its past.

It can restore you to your physical prime.

Oh, man, how great is that?

I can go back to last Thursday!

Ahh. What?

It's Swedish. So?

It's a flat-pack, self-assembly. We have to build it ourselves.

"With just an Allen key and a Phillips screwdriver,

"assembly should take less than three hours."

That's Swedish for a week.

It's not a million miles away, you know.

What about all these spare parts we didn't use?

"Alignment bracket." What the hell's an alignment bracket?

Oh, look, we have taken this thing apart

and put it back together a hundred times.

It's aligned, all right?

In what area is it not aligned? In no area.

It's good to go, it's aligned, let's do it.

Who's going to test it?

Hmm, we need something unimportant and meaningless. Listey, you're up.

There might be something here.

Bits of black plastic,

bits of metal that don't look important.

Old battery.

What we really need is something organic,

something alive, something teeming with life.

Oh, sir, what about your socks?

Stand back, everyone. They're coming through.

OK, I'm rejuvenating the socks.

Oh! The beams.

We're getting covered in beamer light.

They're misaligned!

That's what those alignment brackets were... for!

What's happened? Where are we?

Damn cheap, Swedish, flat-pack, self-assembly rejuvenation showers!

Where the hell has it sent us?

I fear we may have time-travelled, sirs.

And I told you those white plastic clippy things were important!

Trees! This may be Earth!

Earth! It's always Earth with you guys.

You see some trees, it's Earth.

Who's to say it isn't a planet

entirely populated by naked warrior cat babes

who need me to make love to them all?

And what are the chances of that?

If you've never had a dream, you've never had a dream come true.

Hmm.

We're in a land called Albion, sirs. Better known as Britain.

And the year is 23 AD.

23 AD. Weren't Britons all nutters back then?

Running round sporting blue tattoos, out their heads on booze,

fighting, vomiting and passing out?

A phase that doesn't end any time soon, sir.

Maybe we can stay.

We've got to get back to the Dwarf and find Kochanski.

Ah, no fear, sir.

I have the returner remote right here.

Oh. It doesn't appear to be functioning.

Does it need a battery, by any chance?

Eight volts, about yay big.

I'll tell you what.

We'll make a battery.

Out of what, trees and moss?

Out of potatoes. We did it at school.

A potato, a copper coin and an iron nail.

We can make a one-volt battery.

Make eight, connect them up, we've got eight volts and can return home.

Britain in 23 AD, sir, doesn't have any potatoes

and won't get them until the 16th century.

Lemons! The exact same battery but with lemons.

Britain in 23 AD, sir, doesn't have any lemons either.

They won't get those until the 14th century.

He's getting closer.

So, where's our nearest lemon?

Best guess, sir, India.

India? How far is that?

4,000 miles, sir.

If we walk briskly, we'll get there in six months.

Six months?!

I can't wait.

Well, we've got no choice if we want to get home.

Let's face it, sir. We're in a real pickle.

Mr Lister, sir. India is this way.

Hey, it's a market.

Ha-ha! I lived in the land of Albion for ten full cycles of the moon,

but I fled after my family were dragged screaming from my home

to a mighty wicker tower,

where they were sacrificed to the three gods,

Toutatis, Esus and Taranis.

First they were garrotted to death, then they were burnt to death,

then they were drowned to death.

Three deaths to appease the three gods.

Then the druids drank their blood and ate their meat

and said the harvest would be bountiful.

Right. Have you got any lemons?

They're a fruit - they've not been launched in Europe,

but I've heard they've been released here.

Ah, lemons!

Oh! Found them! Citrus, citrus!

We come from Albion, through Gaul,

across half the Roman Empire, Persia, Parthia,

all for this very fruit.

This one here? Is it famous?

No, not that one in particular.

We're in search of lemons in general.

We've walked 4,000 miles.

How many do you want?

Eight.

Eight?

You walked across half the known world for eight lemons?

You're right, that's absolutely insane. Make it ten.

Have you got a bag? What's a bag?

Bags haven't been invented yet, sir.

In 23 AD, the rich have satchels made of goat hide.

So what did everyone else do?

They drop things, sir.

Right, what next? Apart from new feet.

We need copper for the positive electrode.

Copper? Where are we going to get copper?

Isn't Britain famous for its copper?

Ahh! No way!

I said we needed a shopping list! Didn't I say we need a list?

Hang on! Aren't copper coins made of copper?

He's right!

I think I read that somewhere.

Then we've got copper.

Hee-hee! Next up, galvanised nails.

And a shave!

Da-da! Hey!

Finally got the sphalerite ore from a Chinese merchant.

Three weeks for a few lousy nails? Everything's so damn primitive here.

You have to remember, sir, that many things have yet to be discovered.

In 23 AD, they still believed the Earth was flat,

that Tourette's and epilepsy were caused by demons,

and an oxen had a higher standing in society than a woman.

Where did the oxen go wrong?!

They had it all and just threw it all away.

Also, did you know that the colour purple is a luxury item?

It's made from crushed seashells, and only the very rich can afford it.

Colour purple?

What's wrong with just mixing red stuff with blue stuff?

They haven't discovered that yet, sir. Really? Mm.

Jesus!

Yes? What?

I'm sorry? I'm just... talking to my mates here.

Oh. My apologies. No worries.

No way!

It can't be, can it? Don't look! Don't stare!

23 AD - this is when he was supposed to be alive.

So how old would he be?

Well, let's work it out, shall we?

In 23 AD, he'd be...

23.

That's how old that guy looks. What's he doing in India?

Shouldn't he be in Nazareth or somewhere, making tables?

Maybe he's on his gap year.

According to the Bible, sirs, there was no sight of him

from when he was a young child to when he was 30.

Oh! So this is like Club 18-30, the holy version?

The missing years - I've heard about this.

He toured the world, perfecting his teachings.

I'm going to get his autograph. No way!

EBay - it'll be worth a fortune.

You don't even believe in him!

Look, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

All I'll say is, "Sorry to be a bore,

"I bet you get this all the time,

"but you're him off the Bible, aren't you?"

What's wrong with that?

Ah, Rimmer, please, don't say that.

Look, it'll be fine.

We'll get talking, I'll tell him my middle name's Judas.

One thing could lead to another, we could wind up big buds.

Why is your middle name Judas?

Judas embodied all the traits my mum wanted me to have.

Your mum wanted you to be a two-faced,

double-crossing, conniving snitch?

She must have been very proud of you.

She was a member of the Church of Judas.

They believed that Jesus asked Judas to swap places with him,

so Judas was crucified, and Jesus was able

to show up the following Monday and say,

"I'm back, baby! I'm back!"

And nobody noticed?

OK...

Judas's full name was James Judas Didymus.

James means "twin", Didymus means "twin".

Judas was Jesus's twin bro.

Jesus had a twin bro?!

According to the Church of Judas.

So Judas sacrificed himself.

And his reputation,

and became someone who was sneered at and reviled throughout history.

Just like you!

Your mum was really smart!

So what happened to Jesus afterwards?

He went to the South of France with Mary Magdalene,

had a family and invented the wheelbarrow.

Here goes!

Rimmer, sit down!

Please, sit! Sit down!

Brothers, brothers, I... fear thou are impatient for thine food.

Please... join me.

We are all travellers.

Share with me.

Wow!

What an honour!

Incidentally, we know who you are.

Recognised the sandals.

Um, I'm Rimmer.

Um, you can call me Arn or Big Man.

Um... talking of big...

big, big fan of yours.

Big, big fan.

Would the... gladiator like to... join us too?

I'd be most honoured, sir. Although I am not a gladiator.

I am a man of peace.

Oh!

- Then thou shall sit next to me. - Oh!

Ah!

Ah-ha-ha!

Look at all this food!

A dish fit for a king!

You are all from the land of Albion, I think.

I have visited Albion. I walked across the River of Mersey.

All those old prams, it's not hard, is it?

There was a bridge.

Oh, got you. I thought you meant...

Ah! Mine uncle.

When I was returning from the men's room, I spied two soldiers.

Jesus... they're on to us.

Problem? Mine enemies are many.

I will slow their path.

Take him from this place and protect him, I beseech thee.

You shall not pass while there's a breath left in my body.

For the love I have for my Lord is like a sea without a shore,

like a sky without a...

I wasn't ready!

I was still speeching!

The only escape from our enemies is to turn and love them.

Or run. Running's good too.

Down there!

Look, this door isn't going to hold for long.

I must face them, forgive them and teach them the gift of love.

And in return, they'll saw off your limbs and stack 'em in a small pile!

What do we do?

We need to build the lemon battery,

get back to Red Dwarf and go from there.

What, take JC with us? Well, we can't leave him here, sir.

No. Leave me. I must face my enemies alone. I have no fear of death.

Stick with me, kid - you'll soon change.

Ooh!

Are you OK? I have pain, but it will pass.

No time to waste, Kryten. Start wiring the lemons!

We need wire. I'll use my finger.

The gladiator removes his finger?!

It's as if I've smoked some bark from an acacia tree.

Bad bark. Well bad bark.

It's... Just relax. We're just making a battery.

It stores energy, sir.

Electromagnetic interactions between subatomic particles.

Or, to simplify, the copper coin, which is a ductile metal

with high thermal and electrical conductivity,

serves as the positive electrode,

and the galvanised nail

is the electron-producing negative electrode.

The zinc is oxidised and produces an electrochemical reaction,

which generates an electrical charge, all from the lemon.

Interesting. I-I have but one question.

Oh, fire away, sir.

What's a lemon?

Enjoy the moment.

You're no longer the dumb one.

Thanks, bud!

The door's going.

Quick, group together. Tight circle! Let's go!

Lemons truly are an amazing fruit!

Man, am I glad to be back.

At last I can get a change of underwear.

These suckers are riding so high, they'd show up on X-rays.

Suggest we clean up and then return to 23 AD.

In the meantime, I'll have a tinker with the rejuve shower.

It is totally amazing.

What are you showing him, the TV? No. A bag.

You can store any object into its strange cloth walls

and then carry these objects any...

I'm dizzied by its genius!

Look! Look at the things than I can...

Ooh. Oooh!

What?

Ah. The demon returns.

Demon? What demon?!

The one that lurks within me is re-awoken.

Lister, have you given Jesus a vindaloo?

Course not. We had a jalfrezi.

Where does it hurt, sir?

My back.

And when did it start?

14 nights ago. It... it sleeps, it wakes.

Excuse me.

Well, we'll need an X-ray to confirm, but I think he's got a kidney stone.

We may need to operate.

Is it life-threatening? Depends who's operating.

14 days. Sounds like the stone's too big to pass.

His kidney could shrivel and die, and complications could set in.

We get him down the medilab, we fix him up, we beam him back to AD 23.

What's the problem? We can't trust the medicomputer, sir.

Remember what happened when you went for a mumps and rubella injection?

Yeah, I asked for a rube jab, woke up with a boob job.

Still not right up here. So, we're going to have to do it.

But we're not qualified.

I'm perfectly qualified, sir.

After all, I've been operating on Mr Lister for years.

You what?!

Well, not trusting the medicomputer, sir, what choice do I have?

What kind of operations? It's all above board, sir.

I asked Mr Rimmer for permission.

Well, sir, you remember that stomach pain you had a few months ago?

Yeah. You remember the searing agony you were in? Yeah.

And remember how that just sort of stopped?

Yeah.

Well, that's because I performed a splenectomy on you, sir. A what?!

I removed your spleen.

My spleen? You removed my spleen?!

Well, where is it? I might need that.

It's with the rest of your organs... in the freezer.

Next to my quarters. On B Deck.

Excuse me.

So, this operation - what does it involve?

Well, we need to insert a laser and a ureteroscope up his urethra,

locate the stone and haul it out.

Kryten, the only urethra I know are Aretha Franklin.

In English.

Here's a hint.

It's the last place any man wants anyone inserting anything.

You what?

You're stuffing stuff up his Schneiberhauser?

D'you know who we're dealing with here?

But, sir, it's a perfectly standard operation.

Yeah, that's cos you're not a member of the Schneiberhauser club.

But me, as self-appointed president

of the Schneiberhauser Owners' Society,

let me tell you, that is not a standard operation!

Well, perhaps we should inform him of what we intend to do.

I think he might notice, don't you? Well, what's the plan?

I keep him talking over dinner while you disappear under the table?

Best bet for a smooth operation - he's out cold.

I thought we'd run out of anaesthetic.

Who needs anaesthetic?

Just tell him what you're going to do, he'll faint on the spot!

Mr Lister, sir, could you hold this?

I'm not holding it. I barely know him.

Well, someone's got to hold it while I insert the camera.

Don't look at me. I'm done throwing up for today.

Well, then, you'll have to do it, sir.

I don't want to be a holder. Why can't I be a shover?

You're not qualified to be a shover, sir.

I'll hold it.

It'll be an absolute privilege to hold it.

You what? Pass the barbecue tongs.

This is the high point of my entire career.

Well, we should let him rest, sirs. He'll be raring to go in the morning.

Your kindness is boundless.

Need anything doing, just holler.

Books on the table if you get bored, computer games, feel free.

Just the bag.

Just the bag.

Mr Jesus, sir, good morning!

Mr Jesus?

Oh! He hath risen! Ha! Ooh!

Oh.

Oh, goodness!

Well, who was the idiot who let him read a history book?

Look, I didn't think.

Didn't it occur to you that him reading about

how many wars Christianity's caused might mess him up a bit?

So where is he now?

Well, according to the note, he's gone back to 23 AD

so he can trash his reputation

so "this Christianity thingeth never taketh offeth-eth-eth-eth".

What, no Christianity?

What about Christmas? We've killed Wallace & Gromit!

Trash his reputation? How can he do that?

Breaking the Ten Commandments might be a pretty good place to start.

So wait a minute.

He's gone back to 23 AD, and we can't go and get him

cos he's taken the remote?

We do have a spare, sir.

Erin, Erin, Erin!

Jesus, my boy! Come, come... I'm looking for my uncle.

Hast thou seen him? No.

If thou seest him, tell him... that I will be in the tavern,

drinking wine in great plenty

until my legs do the dance of a newly born camel.

And then my mind will turn to dark, vile thoughts,

and I'll start coveting my neighbour's oxen!

That's breaking the Tenth Commandment, that is.

Oooh! And if there's time, I might even covet his donkey.

And when I've finished coveting things,

I might make a small statue out of wood, and idolise it a bit.

You'd better watch yourself. God is a jealous god.

You do that, and he won't just get you, you know.

According to the Second Commandment, he'll wipe out all your descendants.

Isn't that breaking the Sixth Commandment?

Thou shalt not kill?

It's not killing. It's genocide. I think that's OK.

So... doesn't God break the Tenth Commandment,

wishing people worshipped him when they worship someone else?

I mean, isn't that coveting the followers of your neighbour's god?

Don't you try and trip God up.

Look, he wrote those commandments in a rush.

He didn't have time to get them proofread.

It's strange, but these Ten Commandments

seem to ignore the rights

of women and children... Shhh! ..but are big on protecting

the rights of oxen, slave, and donkey-owners.

Keep it down!

I mean, it's almost as if a man made up these commandments

to keep a primitive people in check.

There he is! Get him.

Ooh!

Jesus! Stop him!

Stop that man! Jesus!

You want to fight, then, doth thou? No! Well, put 'em up, then.

Let's see what you've got.

Don't think just because I'm a man of peace, I can't punch your teeth out.

I'm not fighting you, Jesus. It'd be like punching Gandhi.

No, no. No, mind my hair! You... you're messing with my hair!

Look, don't do this.

Why not?

Look, so some stupid people did some stupid things in your name.

It's not your fault.

You make a lot of people happy.

I mean, look at me.

I presumed that, throughout history, all famous people were amazing.

And then I met you... and I realised they're not.

In fact, you're a bit of a knob.

Just like me.

Which means that I'm OK.

Yeah, I don't want to be me.

I don't want to walk down the street and have people say,

"Oh, look, there's the Jesus of Caesarea,

"the guy who caused all the wars."

Jesus of Caesarea?

You mean Jesus of Nazareth.

Jesus of Caesarea.

Son of Rachel the fornicator, Samuel the chicken-stealer.

Samuel the chicken-stealer?

He stole them, not me. Take it up with him.

I'm always having to leg it because of him.

Um, is Jesus quite a popular name around here?

Yeah, there's a few of us.

There's Jesus, son of John, with a funny nose.

Jesus, son of Luke.

He, er, wraps plant leaves around the feet of horses.

About 70 of us at the last census.

Does this mean I'm not the son of God?

Oh, bugger!

Count your blessings! It's not been all bad.

And how's that? You've had a little trip to the future.

Take what you've learned and do something with it.

Get your bags, genuine JC bags, people!

Come on. Get your bag.

One bowl of goat curry, then we're out of here.

Hey, check this.

I bid thee good day. Hast thou booked?

Jesus, table for two.

My brother booked. It may be in his name.

And his name, sir?

Judas.

Here it is.

Rimmer...

Sit down!

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