All language subtitles for S04-E05 - Dimension Jump

("RED DWARF" THEME)
S04-E05 - Dimension Jump

Arnold?

- Arnold!
- I'm here, Mother!

Your father and I are terribly worried
about your progress at school.

- Yes, Mother.
- You don't get the marks you're capable of.

No, Mother.

Well, I went to see the headmaster.

He said it might be in your best interest
to be kept back in Junior D for another year.

- Oh.
- Is that all you've got to say?

Well, it is quite difficult to talk
when you're tied upside down to a tree.

- Were you playing with Howard and Frank?
- Yes.

Well, what on earth were you playing?

I said it was a shame we hadn't got a swing.
They said they could make one.

I didn't realise
they was going to make one out of me.

Well, that's nice, darling. Anyway,
your father had a word with the headmaster,

and we explained how we wanted you
to be a test pilot like your brother John,

and how this could damage your chances.

We got this this morning.
You realise how important this is?

This decision could completely alter
the whole course of your life.

("TOP GUN"-STYLE MUSIC)

Whoa! Welcome home, Ace!

- Bless you, Spanners. Good to be home.
- How'd she behave?

The lightship? Like a frolicking filly in a pasture.

How you got that crate
to break the light barrier, I'll never know.

Well, some might say
the devilishly brave and handsome pilot did it.

Tsh-pshaw! Nonsense.
Any twit can hug the event horizon of a black hole,

then loop-de-loop at twice the speed of light,

then slam the engines into reverse
and blast out of an imploding nebula.

It's you guys with the magic wrenches.
You break the records.

You'll be going to this party, I suppose?

Good God, no. Heroes' welcomes with
21-gun salutes send me to the land of Nod.

I'll be in the mess with the engineering boys,
as usual.

- See you there at 1900?
- See you later, Ace.

What a guy!

Ah, welcome home, son.
You've been in all of our prayers.

Bless you, Padre. How's little Tommy?

He's pulled through, thanks to you.

Sitting by his bedside
day after day, night after night,

holding his hand, reading him stories...

You know me, Chaplain. Any old excuse
to get out of dinner with the Admiral.

Listen, there's a bash in the mess.
It would mean a lot if you were there.

- Thank you, son.
- 1900.

What a guy!

- Commander Arnold Rimmer reporting.
- So, you dog, you're back.

Did you doubt it, with you to come back to?

If only it were true. What are you doing lunchtime?

- Not sure. Why?
- If you're interested,

I'll be in my quarters, covered in maple syrup.

Sorry, Mellie, I don't fraternise with staff.

- I resign.
- I'll be there at 1300.

- You're back.
- 'Fraid so.

Thought you might be.
Rubber shares went up this morning.

- You wanted to see me, Bongo?
- Heard of the dimension theory of reality?

That there's an infinite number of parallel
universes where every possibility exists?

It's along those lines. The basic tenet
states that for every decision that's made,

the alternative decision
is played out in another reality.

- So?
- The lab boys have created a drive

that can break the speed of reality.

Those boffins have hammered together
a crate that can cross dimensions?

- When do I launch?
- It's a one-way ticket.

- There's no coming back.
- I'm free at 1500.

This is a prototype.
There's no way of knowing if it'll get there.

- Where's there, exactly?
- You'll be in an alternative reality,

a reality where there's another Arnold Rimmer.

Some decision was made
where he went one way and you went the other.

- He may be quite different to you.
- Sounds like quite a caper.

You'll do it?

I'm a test pilot in the Space Corps.
It's my job to do it.

I know this probably won't interest you,
but I'd hate myself if I didn't suggest it...

- Suggest what?
- If you're interested,

I'll be in my quarters at lunchtime,
covered in taramasalata.

Didn't know your bread was buttered that side.

It isn't. I'm happily married.
A chap like you can turn a guy's head.

I'm sorry, Bongo. Lunch is...on Mellie.

Would it make any difference
if it was...hoummos?

I'm sorry, Bongo. I'm strictly butter side up.

Understood.

What a guy!

- God speed and bless you, son!
- All systems check.

Let's get this kite up into the big black.
Ignition... Chocks away.

Bye, Bongo. Bye, Spanners.
Bye, Padre. Bye, Mellie.

Smoke me a kipper - I'll be back for breakfast.

(ALL) Bye, Ace!

(ENGINES ROAR)

(RIMMER) Lights!

- What?
- What are you doing?

- What am I doing?
- Yes.

Just nipping down the cinema
to catch the midnight movie.

- Dressed like that?
- Yeah.

Going to see "Jaws".

You're going fishing, aren't you?
That ocean planet we passed.

- You're going without me.
- Come off it, man. Don't be ridiculous!

Why are the lights on? Let's go before...

- All three of you.
- What's he talking about?

I dunno. For some reason, he's got
this crazy idea that we're all going fishing.

- Fishing?!
- "Dear Rimmer, we have gone fishing

to that ocean planet we passed."

"We tried to wake you. See you in three weeks."

Oh, please, sir! I had no choice.

- Kryten!
- Why did you want to go without me?

We didn't WANT to.
We thought it wasn't your scene.

I mean, fishing. It's boring, isn't it?

I love fishing! The glow of the dawn,
the line arcing into the water...

That's why we didn't invite you. There's no fish.

That, at least, is true, sir.
There's no marine life on the entire planet.

We're just gonna sit out on Starbug,
dangle the rods over the side and chill out.

I don't believe anybody would go fishing
where there's no fish.

We used to do it all the time.
We used to go down the canal.

We used to go condom fishing.

I swear, one time I caught
this two-pound black ribbed nobbler!

It was about that big!

Why didn't you just say, "Dear Rimmer,
we're going fishing and don't want you to come"?

- See? That's what I said we should say!
- Shh!

What is it about me?
It's always the same old story.

It's not easy to look in that mirror
and see a guy nobody likes.

How do you think we feel?
We gotta look at it all day!

Look, we just thought you wouldn't want to come.

I try to be liked. God knows I try.

I regale you with amusing stories of my time
in the Hammond Organ Owners' Society.

You never laugh.

I offer to talk you through my photo collection
of 20th-century telegraph poles.

You've always got some excuse.
None of you like morris dancing.

Would that break your hearts, once in a while,

getting our knees in the air, the jingle
of bells, the clonk of wood on wood?

Every time I suggest it, you pretend to be ill.

You're wrong.
We just thought you wouldn't want to come.

Now we know you do, great, you can come.

The way you go on, it's like
we've been planning it for days. We haven't.

- Really?
- Really.

All right, I'll come. Holly?

Oh, who woke him up?

- (RIMMER) Steady now, Kryten.
- Yes, sir.

Best not to rush it and cause an accident, eh?

I have passed my test. I am a qualified pilot.

- Mind that star!
- That star is two light years away, sir.

There's no percentage in being a boy racer.
OK, you passed your test... Mind that planet!

- Which planet?
- That planet!

That's the planet we're heading to, sir.

Excellent. Plot an orbital course.
We'll be there in no time.

- Yes, I have, sir.
- Yes, and get the second stage under way.

- I already have done, sir.
- You haven't correlated the data, have you?

- Yes, I have, sir.
- You know your trouble, Kryten?

- What, sir?
- You're a git.

Stupid...
Three weeks stuck with Captain Yawn.

It wasn't my fault. We'd be OK
if you hadn't blown the gaff.

Me? You woke him up.

I could've sweet-talked my way out of it,
but you came blundering in.

You are so two-faced. You haven't got the guts
to tell the dude nobody likes him.

Oh, brilliant.
What am I supposed to say? "Excuse me."

"You're as popular as a horny dog
at a Miss Lovely Legs competition"?

That's what I'd do. I'd say...

Hi, buddy! How's it goin'?

Oh... I just had to get out. He's driving me nuts!

I cannot stand front-seat drivers.

Well, come on. We're on holiday!
Let's cheer things up a bit.

How about some music?
I've brought my Hammond CDs with me.

How about "Reggie Wilson
Plays The Lift Music Classics"?

What about "Sounds
Of The Supermarket: 20 Shopping Greats"?

Anyone seen the keys to the medical cabinet?

I feel a sudden urge to suffocate myself
with a two-pound black ribbed nobbler.

- Not Reggie Wilson, please, Rimmer.
- You don't like Reggie Wilson? What?!

Not even "Pop Goes Delius"
or "Funking Up Wagner"?

I prefer something slightly more melodious,

like the death rattle of a man
suffering from terminal flatulence.

Come on, you bores. Let's do something.
How about we all sing campfire songs?

# Kumbaya, my Lord

# Kumbaya... # Everyone. Kryten.

# Kumbaya, Kum... #

- Purple alert! Purple alert!
- What's a purple alert?

It's not as bad as a red alert, but worse
than a blue alert. Kind of a mauve alert...

Holly, wipe the rabid foam from your chin
and start again.

There's some sort of disruption
to the time-fabric continuum.

At least, I presume that's what it is.

There's this big wibbly-wobbly swirly thing
headed straight towards us.

- What is it?
- I don't know! It's following us!

It's locked in on us. Something's coming out of it.

It's going to hit us! Collision course!

(KRYTEN) Emergency! Emergency!
Adopt crash procedure!

- Where's the card?
- What card?

The plastic card with the crash procedure on it!

- Don't panic!
- It should be behind the seats.

Shouldn't we sit behind a woman
clutching a baby? What's the drill?

- I know.
- What?

Sit down, tuck your head between your legs
and brace yourself.

- Now what?
- Open the in-flight magazine and read.

The articles act as a sedative.
Look at the contents list -

"Salt - An Epicure's Delight",
"Classic Wines Of Estonia",

"Flemish Weaving The Traditional Way"...

Don't fight it, man. Let it take you.

How can you be so mind-bogglingly flippant?
We're going to crash!

Stay calm. The more relaxed you are,
the less likely you are to be injured.

Good luck, everybody. Here it comes!

(CLATTER)

"The Egyptians were great believers in salt..."

"When most people think of classic wines,
they are unlikely to consider Estonian reds,

"yet Estonian grapes
are among the fruitiest and most subtle..."

"Since the 13th century,
Belgium has been the home

"of some of the most remarkable weaving
to come out of Europe..."

- Is everyone all right?
- Yes, thank God. I'm fine.

Cat!

It's bad, buddy. It's real bad.

See what I mean?
Red with apricot. I look like a jerk!

I'm bleeding an unfashionable colour!

If I'd known, I'd have worn white.
It goes with anything.

- Is anything broken?
- Yeah.

The stitching's come away
and the lining's ripped.

Somebody, please! Get me a tailor!

Kryten, get the first aid box.
We have to make sure he doesn't get gangrene.

Gangrene? You think I might get gangrene?

- Yeah. Shh!
- Hey, that might work!

Green with apricot - I could pull that off!

It's a break, sir. Quite a bad one.

I'll have to snap the bone back into line,
and there's no anaesthetic.

Here. Read the in-flight magazine.

"Salt - An Epicure's Delight. The salt on a typ..."

- (CRUNCH)
- Oooh! My God!

- Did it hurt?
- No, it's the article.

Have you done my leg yet?

- Holly, what's the damage?
- It doesn't look good.

We've lost the port engine, the fuel line's severed,

we're taking in water, half the electric's out,

and the elastic's snapped on the furry dice.

- What does that mean in real terms?
- Well, you've got a more tasteful cockpit,

but unless you fix that starboard engine
within 40 minutes, we start sinking.

- Anything we can do?
- Hire a dance band to play "Abide With Me"?

I'll have to go and fix the engine.

- You don't know anything about engines.
- Besides, there's a 40-knot gale out there.

Only a fool or a hero would even consider it.

Bingo! Down there.
They've ditched into the drink.

- I'm bailing out, Computer!
- (FEMALE V0ICE) But, Ace, it's suicide!

I caused the smash, should apologise.
Only manners.

- Bring her around for another pass.
- Ace, don't go. I love you.

Stiff upper modem, old girl.
Smoke me a kipper - I'll be back for breakfast.

Name's Commander Rimmer.
Arnold Rimmer. Friends call me "Ace".

I've come from another dimension. Explain later.

First, let's get out of this pit.
What do they call you, matey?

- Uh...Kryten, sir.
- Series 4,000 mechanoid, am I right?

Salt of the Space Corps.

- Spanners.
- Eh?

Sorry, you reminded me of someone.
What's your handle?

- Lister. Dave Lister.
- Of course. Put it there, Dave.

You look like a great bloke.
What about the guy in the sharp suit?

We just call him Cat.

Bought yourself a broken leg, Cat.
Love the Cuban heels.

Who's the stunningly gorgeous computer?

Holly.

God, it's me, only much more handsome.

Well, I'm superfluous.
Arnie'll have you out of here in no time!

- He's a hologram. He can't touch anything.
- Dead, eh? Commiserations, old man.

- What a crushing bore that must be.
- You're me?

Don't quite understand.
It's to do with us living identical lives

up until a decision was made
and you went one way, I went the other.

Still, can't hang around chinwagging.
Let's get this box airborne.

- What's your plan, Arn?
- I...haven't got one.

OK. Right. Well, um...

I suggest this - the engine is repairable,
but it's a two-man job. Any volunteers?

Yeah, OK. I've got a window
in my schedule this afternoon.

Not so fast, Davy. You didn't give Arnie a chance.

- He was about to volunteer, weren't you?
- No, I wasn't.

OK, well, um...let's get cracking, shall we, Dave?

What's the starboard engine's
thrust-to-input ratio, Arn?

- What's that?
- Well, you can work it out.

- What's the craft's inertia rating?
- I don't know.

- Well, what's the PSI?
- I don't know!

OK, we'll work it out. Come on, Dave.
Better grab a brolly. There's a drizzle.

- Sir, can I have a word in private?
- Of course, old friend. Excuse us.

- What's the prob, Kryters?
- I have a limited understanding of medicine,

but it's plainly obvious
that your left arm is broken in several places.

Took a tumble. Only a scratch.

I cannot allow you to go out in that condition.

- You must allow me to go in your place.
- I see.

- The Series 4,000 isn't waterproof, is it?
- That's besides the point, sir.

Look, I'll tell you what we'll do...

Sorry, no option.

Arnie, Kryten's taken a bit of a whack.
Bring him back on-line.

- How?
- You don't know how to do that?

No.

Come on, Dave. Let's get some fresh air.

Smoke me a kipper... Can you do that?

I'll be back for breakfast.

(WIND HOWLS)

- What's your favourite music, Dave?
- Eh?

Keeps your spirits up if you sing a song.

- I like rastabilly skank.
- Right.

Aaaah!

Grab my arm, Dave! Grab my arm!

'Fraid I'm going to have to do
something a bit sissy now - black out.

Sorry about that. Let's get cracking!

# Whether you like rastabilly... #
Go on, Dave! Sing that song!

# Whether you like rastabilly... #

Paisley with stripes... That's nice...

Green anoraks with furry collars... They're great!

Oh, sir! He's delirious!

Oh! Rubber trousers,
held down with bicycle clips... Wow!

"Commander Rimmer." I ask you.

"Ace." Barf city!
I bet he wears women's underwear.

They're all the same, his type - hurly-burly,
rough-and-tumble macho marines in public,

and behind closed doors,
he parades around in ball gowns

drinking mint juleps, whipping the houseboy.

Sir, he's you! It's just that your lives
diverged at a certain point in time.

I went into the gents, he went the other way.

I assume you are making
fatuous references to his sexuality.

- May I point out...?
- Yes! We did it!

(BOTH CHANT) Awooga, awooga, awah, awah!
Awooga, awooga, awah!

What a team! How you did it, I'll never know.

Come on, Ace, it was you!
You reconnected that fuel line.

- Only because you held my ankles.
- How could you hang upside down

AND fix the starboard engine?!

- What a team!
- I know where I've seen you two.

Weren't you the centrefold
in July's issue of "Big Boys In Boots"?

Say what you like about me,
but I won't hear a word against Skipper.

- "Skipper"?!
- He deserves a nickname.

- "Skipper" sat rather well.
- "Ace" and "Skipper"?!

You sound like a kids' TV series
about a boy and his bush kangaroo!

Don't listen to him, Skipper. Let's get this
tea chest back to the small rouge one, eh?

Yeah, so you two can have a nice hot
soapy bath and play "spot the submarine".

Sir, the Cat -
I don't think he's going to last much longer!

Bri-nylon underwear... Sock suspenders...

- Suits with cardigans!
- Sir, he's delirious! His leg's all swollen.

- He may lose it.
- (LISTER) Lose his leg?

I fear so. The operation is beyond my expertise.

Lose my leg? Hey, that's terrible.

None of my suits will fit!

Kryten, I'll need 500ccs
of corticoadrenaline, two pints of plasma,

a laser scalpel and some kind of tissue sample.

Oh, my God.

Field microsurgery - part of basic training
in the Special Service. I'll go scrub up.

I'll go and throw up.

- How's the Cat?
- Oh, Ace did it.

Cat's fine now. He's sitting in bed
looking through some swatches,

trying to find material he likes for his dressings.

I don't know how Ace does it.
He's been awake 36 hours. He's still joking.

What a guy.

He's teaching Kryten how to play the piano.
Amazing dude.

So, is it a simple registry office
or a full church do?

I don't understand your attitude. He's you!

He's not me! I'm me! He's a me
who had all the chances that I never got.

No, it was just a single incident,
and your lives went off in different directions.

It's incredible to think that one decision
could produce such different people.

Right. He probably went to some really great
school, while I was lumbered with Io House.

He met all the right people,
greased his way up the old boy network,

towel-flicked his way into the Space Corps,
Masonic-handshook his way into flight school

and brown-tongued his way up the ranks.

You'd think you'd be pleased that in another
dimension there's another you doing well.

How would you feel if some git
arrived from another dimension,

another Lister, with wall-to-wall charisma
and a PhD in being handsome and wonderful?

Hey, man, I AM that Lister!

No, how would you feel if there
was another Lister doing better than you?

There is. Ace knows him.
That's why he called me Spanners.

In Ace's dimension, he's a flight engineer,

married to Kristine Kochanski,
twin boys, Jim and Bexley.

I made up for him.
Whatever he did that I didn't, he deserves it.

For me, it makes sense of stuff,
to think that every possibility is played out.

There's probably a really weird dimension
where you're better-looking than me.

Well, it makes me bitter.
You know I never got the breaks.

Well, there's living proof
of what I could have achieved.

- (ACE) Skipper, got a mo?
- Go on. He's probably picked a ring.

Skipper, I've decided I'm not going to stay.

- Why?
- Him and me. It would never work.

I can't stand the man. To see myself so
warped, bitter, weaselly. The man's a maggot.

- So where are you going to go?
- Just out there.

I can't go back,
but there's a billion realities to explore,

a billion other Arnold Rimmers to meet.

Maybe there's one
who's more of a pain than him...but I doubt it.

Well, good luck. Don't be too hard on Rimmer.

You got the break, he didn't.

Do you know what that break was?
Aged seven, one of us was kept back a year.

Put your finger on that, will you, Skipper?

That's the only difference?
Rimmer went down a year?

No, I was the one who went down a year.

By his terms, he got the break,
but being kept down a year made me.

The humiliation -
being tallest in the class by a clear foot -

it changed me,
made me buckle down, made me fight back.

- I've been fighting back ever since.
- While he spent his life making excuses.

Maybe he's right. Maybe I did get the lucky break.

I'll be off, Dave. Smoke me a kipper, Skipper -
I'll be back for breakfast.

Ready?

I'll smoke him a smegging kipper.

Now!

("TOP GUN"-STYLE MUSIC)

(RIMMER) It's Wednesday night.
It's amateur Hammond organ recital night.

0K, take it away, skutters!

0K, take it away, skuttersI

("RED DWARF" THEME
ON HAMMOND ORGAN)