Original subtitles

(SCREAMING)

We're gonna suck a person out of this person!

-(SCREAMS) -ALL: Oh!

-You killed it. -What?

I'm smiling, you killed it. Like... (CHUCKLES)

(SHIP BEEPING)

♪ (SOOTHING MUSIC PLAYS) ♪

-(BEEPING) -What is that?

It's an oxygen leak.

What is this ship made of?

-Tinfoil? -(BEEPING)

You need to change the way they see the ship.

Are you talking about lasers?

The president suggested we lose 500 people.

You're just gonna kill 500 passengers?

(BEEPING)

(WHISPERS) The Beeping is the ship telling us

to recalibrate for the baby.

-We have air?! -Yeah, we have air.

And... light 'em up!

MATT SPENCER: He's transformed

the most disgusting thing imaginable

into a kaleidoscope of butt truffles.

♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

Space and luxury, a somewhat awkward marriage.

But then, isn't every marriage?

I know mine was!

With comms down, we can't talk to Earth,

but we can still swim like a mermaid,

gamble like a gangster, eat like a beast.

Some food flavorings may not be available.

And spend hours marveling at our illuminated circle of turds!

FRANK KELLY: This thing is kind of mesmerizing

since Mr. Judd lit it up.

Oh. See that-- Look at right there.

Looks like a burrito.

-(SPIKE CHUCKLES) -DOUG: Where?

-Right-- See? It's moving. -DOUG: I'm not seeing a burrito.

I can see a face there, kind of.

It's maybe...

John Paul.

Beatles or Getty?

I see the pope's face.

Pope John Paul II. He was in at the turn of the century.

Infallible, obviously,

but great at apologizing for historical bad stuff.

All I'm seeing is a lot of shiny excrement.

I'm sorry, guys.

JP was one of the good ones, too.

Wasn't even a Nazi in his youth.

I'm-- I'm just not sure a pope would choose to appear in shit.

Wouldn't he pick, like, motor oil or pancakes?

FRANK: Honestly, I see his face.

Maybe I'll see you later, Mr. Pope,

since... I guess I'm the only one who can.

♪ (MYSTICAL MUSIC PLAYS) ♪

HERMAN JUDD: Wow. Huh.

It's like a screenshot from the Bible.

So, when does this, uh, Caca Papa appear?

Any second now. It's every 90 minutes.

(ENGLISH ACCENT) Yeah. You can set your watch by it.

Although I prefer to use the onboard time--

MAN 1: Ah, there he is. Bless you.

MAN 2: I wish I could kiss his ring.

RYAN CLARK: Can you see it, Billie?

The descent into barbarism? Yeah, I can see that clearly.

The pope, I do not see.

No, I don't see it either.

But I can see the joy

that his face puts on their faces.

I don't understand.

Joy. It's a-- it's a human emotion.

Used to be quite popular.

That right there, is that an ear?

-No, it's a piece of shit. -Oh.

As long as it keeps people from murdering me in my bed, I'll be happy.

-HARRISON AMES: For fuck's sake, get out of my way. -(WOMAN GASPS)

-Iris. -It's not making everyone happy. -It's Harrison.

-HARRISON: Get out of my way, you bunch of brides of Christ. -Let's go.

-What-- Who-- What is-- Who? -HARRISON: Fuck off!

-RYAN: Who is Harrison? -Harrison. Harrison.

Oh, that's just somebody that I'm not scared of.

Why don't we talk about something else and not that guy

'cause, honestly... (CHUCKLING) ...who cares about him? Not me.

MIKE: Oh, hi, Captain.

(AMERICAN ACCENT) Hey there, Mike. How are you doing?

-MIKE: Good, good -(ENGLISH ACCENT) I have not forgotten about Harrison.

(MUTTERING) Jesus Christ.

I just heard I'm gonna be at your table tonight.

(AMERICAN ACCENT) What, with an apple in your mouth

and pineapple nipple rings like I requested?

Ah, just kidding. Is Barbara gonna be with you?

Oh, yes, sir. She's very excited about it.

-Me too. Can't wait. See you later. -Okay.

(ENGLISH ACCENT) I want to hear more about Harrison.

I wanna know about Barbara. How do you like that?

-How does that make you feel? -Barbara's my wife.

I didn't ask you. She is, though?

-MIKE: Yes, she is. -I didn't see that coming.

-Who's Harrison? -No. Thank you for sharing...

-about your wife. -It's a great story.

Good luck. I hope she feels better.

MATT SPENCER: Judd Very Light Beer.

It hurts less on the way in than it does on the way out.

It feels like you're peeing actual fire.

We're gonna see that guy's suicide, aren't we?

Sure. But when it happens, we all tell HR

-there were no warning signs. -Got it.

I have the feeling that he might have spent

the first couple of years of his life locked in a shed.

-HARRISON: Fudd! -(WHISPERS) Iris!

Wait! Is this Harrison?

You're in no physical danger.

Well, not unless he buys me dinner first.

Iris, he's making weird sexual violent innuendo

-I don't fully understand. -HARRISON: Fudd.

Judd. You know my name is Judd.

Silence, Fudd, you quivering sack of fraud.

And you explain to me why the first-class hallway...

-Can you stop this? -Absolutely.

...is teeming with tenth-class passengers

-bleating about a dead pope? -Well?

Now, when are comms back on?

-Oh, you mean now? -JUDD: (QUIETLY) Well...

I'm gonna need some information. Who-- Who is this guy?

IRIS: Harrison Ames is an awful and awfully litigious man

with more trillions than you have nostrils.

Three. He has three trillion.

-HARRISON: Because you're costing me money, you hairball. -Okay.

(AMERICAN ACCENT) Mr. Harrison Ames!

Captain Ryan Clark.

HARRISON: Well, that's quite a grip you got there, Captain.

Well, I treat handshakes the way I treat my job.

I like pressure.

Oh, yes. Well, pressure... creates diamonds.

Then consider this a 25-carat shake.

-I like it. I like that. -I-- I also have manly hands.

-Correct, Iris? -Absolutely. Like shovels.

Tell him about my firm grip. Did you guys hear about my grip?

-What? -(WEAKLY) My... firm grip.

First of all, Mr. Ames, what I want to say

is that that nonsense in the hallway is unacceptable.

And that stops right now.

That is impressive. You see this, Fudd?

-Judd. -This, Fudd,

-is what power looks like. -Judd.

-Tell me, Captain, do you golf? -Do I--

Does the pope shit in the woods?

--I don't know. -Well, according to these guys,

he probably does.

(LAUGHTER)

-I'm playing this bozo on the VR golf range. -Okay.

Why don't you join us for a few cheeky holes?

You know, my VR golf is very cool.

You can tee off as young Judy Garland,

and then sink your last putt

-as old, drunk Judy Garland. -IRIS: Mm-mm. Mm-mm-mm.

Not that I have done that. I would-- I don't do that.

He's totally done that,

and I think that's the saddest thing I've ever heard.

And I've heard whalesong.

See you on the virtual green, Fudd.

Not if I see you first, Farrison.

-Oh, Jesus. -Oh, Fesus.

We have great banter.

-HARRISON: No, we don't, you fucker! -See?

ALAN: We found a short window for a supply shuttle,

and communications to Avenue 5 should be restored in ten.

Oh, goody, goody, gum disease.

Last ten minutes with no Judd.

Oh, and I've wasted some of it saying this.

Just a quick heads-up.

There are some pretty gnarly protesters outside.

Just in case you hear any effin' and jeffin'.

Protesters? What are they, anti-jet propulsion?

-No, anti-you. -Me?

-(PROTESTORS CLAMORING) -FEMALE REPORTER: Queen of Death Rav Mulcair

orders the murder of 500 Avenue 5 innocents.

This should all be on Judd. He's in charge.

I was just following--

Yes, yes, I know, but sometimes that is what people should do.

I suppose you are Head of Mission Control.

And I guess what, you know, they're saying...

is that you're not.

In control. Of the mission.

Alan, could you possibly find me some coordinates

as far away from Earth as possible?

(WHISPERS) Fuck off there!

MATT: Are you into spiritual epiphany and poop?

Then come down to deck five. It's like Woodstock down there.

But Catholic.

KAREN KELLY: Hey, honey.

Wow, this is, uh--

Have you come to take a look at the Pope?

Some people can't see it. But good-- good people can.

And then, right below that, the nostrils, you look at

where, like, the almost similar sized holes are.

KAREN: Honey...

(SIGHS) Honey, are you sure this is a good idea? You look tired.

-No, I'm fine. I'm-- I'm happy. -No.

I know what makes my Frankie happy.

A little light jazz, maybe a nice box of raisins.

Yeah, you have your thing. Why can't I have my thing?

Because my thing is trying to get us all home alive,

and your thing is proclaiming toilet miracles hither and yon.

Hey! Don't belittle it.

I am not belittling it, honey.

It just is little!

No, it's not.

Hey John, did the pope heal your anxiety?

Yeah! I took a Xanax and I prayed right here,

and then, the Xanax totally worked.

Yes, you see?

-Sweetie-- -Shh.

I can't listen to you now.

I have to go help some people who are looking at the pope

in the wrong direction. I have to...

HERMAN JUDD: Golf. Yeah... The sport of kings.

IRIS KIMURA: Uh, I think that's horse racing.

RYAN: Who's this little guy?

Some physical manifestation of Judd's ego?

IRIS: It's Iris.

RYAN: That's what I said. Boom!

HARRISON: (LAUGHING) Very good.

I didn't think Judy Garland could get more tragic.

JUDD: Trust me, I can get a lot more tragic if I--

-(SCUTTLING NOISE) -MATT: Hey, guys.

Comms are about to come back on.

JUDD: Ah, thank fuck.

RYAN: Are-- What are you? Are you a spider, Matt?

MATT: Well, I admire their industry,

and the fact that they play the long game.

(CHUCKLING) Hey, look at my abdominal ganglion!

But there you go,

messages from the past eight days coming through now.

-(PHONE PINGS) -JUDD: (AUTOMATED VOICE) You got a message!

HARRISON: About bloody time.

MATT: Oh my god! Tobey Maguire died.

Throat slit in a prison shower.

Well, off I scuttle.

-(PHONE BUZZES) -HARRISON: Eight days, no comms,

my companies are in the shitter!

Look at my losses, Fudd!

JUDD: Iris.

All right, cut the breeze. Trees, give us a second.

HARRISON: Do you understand wealth?

If this blackout has put me in the red, Fudd,

I will come at you like a crocodile after a turkey leg!

Well, I'll come after you like an even more killy animal.

That was really bad. We need to work on your comebacks.

-RYAN: Oh, god. -IRIS: Problem?

No, just, just...

relishing the cold embrace of an empty inbox. (SIGHS)

-Oh, well. -"Oh, smell," more like.

You know, you don't have to do comebacks with Ryan.

You know, you don't have to do comebacks with me.

Okay, give me that.

Do you use alcohol to fill the chasm

left by the absence of fatherly love?

Then come to happy hour!

Five p.m. at the Judd Sports Bar.

Your dad won't be there. He never is.

Oh, hey.

You're the woman who saved us from space cancer.

Yeah, and you're the comedian who, um...

Yeah. I didn't think this would be your vibe.

Oh, it isn't. No. Uh...

The carpets are sticky and so are the people.

It's just a quick cut through to engineering.

So... (CLEARS THROAT) How long exactly is it

until everyone starts eating each other?

No, we've got enough food for years,

it's just we're out of flavorings.

Oh, so... we're gonna not eat each other,

but use each other as seasoning.

Wow, that was... quantifiably funny.

"Quantifiably funny." I should put that on my posters.

Yeah, you should.

Can I try some new material on you?

Okay. Go.

Uh, so I've got this bit about the papal poop.

I thought, "Oh, the Catholic church had already gone to shit."

Something like that.

-Not funny? -Not listening.

I gotta go. But this has been, um...

-Fun. -Not fun, but... you know...

-It happened. -Yeah.

Tha-- Thanks, though, for the, uh...

-BILLIE: Let's do it again. -...quantifiable...

Yeah.

MALE REPORTER: With an emergency shuttle

ready to take essential supplies and food flavorings to Avenue 5,

all eyes are on Judd Mission Control.

Well, this is nice.

I'm amazed you wanted to come out.

We thought, with everything going on,

-that you might wanna-- -(STAMMERS) We have a rule

that we don't talk about work outside of work.

(CHUCKLES)

Should we order? Get things over with?

(CHUCKLES) Not over with. Underway.

Are we drinking?

I might... treat myself to some water.

Water on the rocks. You guys?

-ALAN: Uh, you choose. -The usual.

REPORTER: Anger grows as mission director Rav Mulcair

refuses to deny that 500 non-essential passengers

will be blasted from the ship.

ALAN: Uh, I think I might get the jackal paws

-and cucumber snow. -ALL: Mm!

I will get the wasp tapenade,

owls in blankets, and some tree soup.

REPORTER: With still no answers as to whether 500 are to die,

we ask Rav Mulcair: does she really fucking care?

(CROWD MUTTERING)

Jim, cancel the water.

I'll have that Mexican drink with the finger in it.

And a notepad.

Uh, no, this is fun time, not work time.

Alan, all time is work time now.

Actually, sod this lovely lunch.

I'm checking on the supply shuttle.

I'll get some rabbit nuggets to go.

All right, let's try another one.

I need real killer comebacks for this guy, Matt.

-No-holds-barred type of stuff. -That's right.

Okay, look at me. I'm Harrison.

-Okay. -Right?

(IMITATING HARRISON) Fudd. Is that your face?

Or a rectal prolapse with a dye job?

(NORMAL VOICE) And your comeback is?

-My face. -No.

-No. -It's a rectal di--

-No. No. -Dye job. -Let's try it again.

-Let's try it again. -All right, all right. -Okay. Okay.

(IMITATING HARRISON) Fudd.

-You have the voice-- -Voice.

(NORMAL VOICE) What?

I was trying to anticipate

-what Harrison might say. -Oh, that's good.

-(IMITATING HARRISON) Hello, Fudd. -Fudd.

-You have the voice... -You have the voice...

-...of a-- -...of a castrato.

I did not anticipate that.

You've been chemically castrated by your own effeminate glands.

How did you know about that, Harrison?

(NORMAL VOICE) No. Again.

-How did you know-- -Try not to affirm the things he says.

Yeah.

-All right, let me try one. -What did Iris suggest?

"Hey, Harrison. Are you suffering from brain bleed?

Don't worry. For you, that's a minor injury."

(LAUGHING)

Okay, I like that because it's suggesting his brain is small.

-(CHUCKLING) Yeah. -That's wonderful. That's very--

Right. I'll keep it quick, you horse's arsehole.

-JUDD: Your brain is-- -Now, this period without comms has cost me--

-(WHISPERS) If I'm a horse-- -Shut your pussyhole and listen. This has cost me billions.

And to prove that I'm very serious, Fudd,

I've hired myself a paunchy white male to represent me.

-(WEAKLY) You have a bad brain. -SANDY: You are served.

Legal hat on.

-Legal hat off, great trip. -Thank you.

Apart from the food flavors. It's a lot of banana.

Yeah, that's enough. I will ruin you, Fudd.

-Prepare for penury. -JUDD: (WHISPERS) ...small brain...

Enjoying the cruise?

I bet you would love the skating rink!

Iris, give it to me straight. What does this mean?

If Harrison sues, we get no rescue money.

So...

Why don't we have Ryan schmooze him at the Captain's Table

-and talk him out of it. -Wait, okay. Wait.

What if...

we have Ryan invite Harrison to the Captain's Table

-to schmooze him out of it. -(IRIS SIGHS)

Yep. You fixed it.

♪ (WHIMSICAL MUSIC PLAYS) ♪

So, Doug, do you see the pope out there?

-Or are you on the fence? -I'm on the fence.

Hmm. Okay, well, this might focus you a little bit.

Five hundred non-essential passengers

are not going to be jettisoned out of the airlock.

But, if they were, why are you essential?

Fuck. Yeah, uh...

I can... put a pencil in my teeth

and flick with my finger and play the theme to Rawhide.

(CHUCKLING) Isn't it funny what our minds produce

-when we're panicking? -That was just-- No, I--

And I'm also a generous and warm husband.

I should've led with that. Shit, can I go back?

MATT: No, we have more people to interview,

but, uh... I loved that. You were great.

Get outta here.

Oh... Thank god there's not gonna be a cull

'cause it would be bad news for, uh... (CHUCKLES)

Hey, Billie, comms are up.

Yeah, I know. Just got the rescue plan.

Waiting for messages from my husband and wife.

I sent them a "can we try again" plea.

Huh. Cool. Okay, so the plan.

Firstly, Mission Control are gonna send up a huge docking station.

-Oh... -What?

Looks like the messages I sent them didn't go.

-Oh, titting Jupiter. -Oh.

I'm-- sorry about that. Um... So, the plan?

What is this?

BILLIE: This is, uh... a kind of floating airport terminal

which they send into deep space.

We dock, everybody gets in 500 shuttles,

and we evac in a 48-hour window.

Hmm. And go home.

Can you remind me why I'd wanna go there?

Right, well, there's-- there's a little bit more.

Um... So, maybe you should sit down.

-Hmm, here we go. -(CLEARS THROAT)

You remember, at the launch ceremony,

that Joe paired your handprint with the emergency console.

And he secretly paired his own.

But they are now in a coffin with the rest of his corpse,

leaving us with only one set of hands that can now do...

♪ (TENSE MUSIC PLAYS) ♪

...that.

What? You--

(STAMMERS) You mean you want me to dock the ship? Me?

-And you can. You can learn. -But--

Because we have three and half years.

Is that enough time?

Well, it usually does take five.

-Five years? -Mm-hmm.

Right, well, you see, I noticed a difference

between those two numbers.

But there are some extremely gifted candidates

that can do it in four.

And these extremely gifted candidates,

are they guys in their late 50s

who can barely steer piss into a toilet bowl?

You can do this.

I can do this?

You can.

-I can do it. -Absolutely.

You really think I can do it?

No, you can't do it. Who am I kidding?

Well, you just said that I could do it!

Yes, I know, but I was trying to just boost your confidence.

For three seconds.

That's all I can muster, I'm really sorry.

-Well, muster more. -Okay, look, Ryan...

You can do this because, quite frankly, you have to.

-But I can't. -But you will.

-I will? -You will.

Now, say it like you mean it.

I don't mean it. Neither do you.

Well, can't you just pretend?

Yeah. I can do this.

-(DOOR OPENS) -Captain Ryan?

(AMERICAN ACCENT) You-- I'm sorry, you're, uh-- You're in the wrong place.

The ice rink is on the next level.

Oh, no, no, no. It's you that I'm looking for.

I need to serve you with a notice

for divorce proceedings. (CHUCKLES)

It's quite a working vacation for me.

Yeah, I gotta get back to the rink. (CHUCKLES)

(ENGLISH ACCENT) By rights, this should be the worst moment of my life.

But now, I have to go up and host the Captain's Table

and smile and be charming.

So... that can be the worst moment of my life.

-You can do--! -Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

RAV MULCAIR: Alan, I need the plans

for the emergency supply shuttle.

Yes.

We've just time with a one-hour window for a shuttle

to bring medical supplies and food flavorings--

PROTESTERS: (CHANTING) Fuck you, Rav! Fuck you, Rav!

-Fuck you, Rav! Fuck you, Rav! -Fuck you, Rav! Fuck you, Rav!

(CHANTING CONTINUES)

(SIGHS, COUGHS)

We need Judd here. He's the problem. Not me.

His face is a giant blast shield,

and I intend on cowering behind it.

How?

We bring him back on the supply shuttle.

A lost wallet was found on level six,

but money is essentially useless up here,

so we're-- we're probably just gonna throw it out.

(MIA GIGGLES)

RYAN: (AMERICAN ACCENT) He's here, he's hungry...

MIA: Ooh! BARBARA: Oh, hello. (CHUCKLES)

-...he's in the third person. -(LAUGHTER)

Putting the "captain" into "Captain's Table,"

-and-- and "stable," actually. -BARBARA: Yes, that's true.

RYAN: Wow. I think for the first time ever,

we have some no-shows.

Uh, best seats in the house! You guys...

you guys wanna fight over it?

No, I'm good over here.

Having dinner with my father-- Don't know why I said that.

Oh, hey, Billie. You wanna join us?

Oh, uh... I would love to, but... No, I wouldn't.

-JORDAN: Hey! -RYAN: All right, well...

All the people I wanna be with... right here.

-MIA: Aww. -RYAN: Right?

(LOUDLY) Best table on board!

The real hot ticket is the fecal pope.

It's The Shrining. That's why this place is so empty.

Ryan, when are you gonna clear

these gawping cockroaches from my corridor?

It's at the top of my agenda.

It's actually above the word "agenda."

-(LAUGHTER) -Thank you. (FORCED CHUCKLE)

What's, like, your best joke?

Uh, that's subjective, really.

'Cause that's like asking you

uh... what's your favorite part of the engine.

-Belkron filter. -Sure.

MADS: This is nice. For once, I'm not thinking about

-being stuck up here for years. -Hmm.

Although, now I am.

Surrounded in shit.

How do they say that in Swedish?

Uh... (SPEAKS SWEDISH)

MIA: Oh, it's a beautiful language.

Mike, how's the fish?

Mm. Yeah, it's good.

Great. And the tomatoes?

The tomatoes are very good. Very good.

-Don't eat with your mouth full. -RYAN: Harrison.

How are your tomatoes?

Well, they're tomatoes. What can you say about tomatoes?

MIKE: Well, I said they were good.

BARBARA: Yeah, Mike said they were good.

Great, we get action replay.

(CHUCKLES) That's... I like that.

Wow, Captain's Table is really, uh, killing it

on the conversation front.

Tomatoes. I can't wait to hear your opinion on the sweet corn.

Ooh, the muscly toddler is giving us a challenge!

Be more interesting, Captain.

(WHISPERING) What's happening over there?

I think Ryan is boring him to death.

(SIGHS) Boring is bad.

But to death... To death is good.

Great news. I just got out of a sexless marriage.

Dry as a desert.

Now I'm living on a flood plain

with the hottest man in the galaxy.

She's-- She's referring to my attractiveness

-and not my temperature. -No, they know.

(BILLIE LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY)

That's fun-- (LAUGHS)

I don't get a lot of comedy,

but it's-- it's tragedy plus time, right?

Yeah. But, you know...

how much time is enough time?

(STILTED) I don't know. How much time is enough time?

There's no punchline to that one.

(LAUGHING)

So, Mike, Barbara, tell us about yourselves.

Do you have kids?

We-- We have a son, and it's-- it's real hard

being away from him for so long.

Aw, he must be missing you.

He's in a coma.

-What? -The fuck?

Comas are all in the mind. Did you know that?

You can literally bring yourself out of one.

-Mm... -You left your son in a coma...

to come on holiday?

We didn't induce the coma. He hit the curb...

MIA: Oh, god.

-(SIGHS) He was skateboard. -Skateboarding.

Oh, that's cool.

-MIKE: Yeah. -What?

He's been in a coma for 18 months.

We thought we'd only be here for eight weeks. (CHUCKLES)

Are you fucking serious?

Well, that's disrespectful.

Yeah, well, you're the ones drinking Mai Tai

while your son's tubed up like a potato clock.

When I was younger, I used to wonder

what it would be like to have a son,

and then, suddenly, one day, I realized I am a son.

Fuck's sake. "Captain's Table."

It's got a captain and a table! And that's it.

And as for this food, I can't touch this taste-free guano!

(ENGLISH ACCENT) Right! That's it! I am fucking done!

I'm done!

Fuck it! There are jauntier dinners on death row,

and god forbid that anybody should actually ask

-how I'm doing! -How are you doing?

And you know what else is in a coma? My marriage.

And I've just heard that they're gonna switch off life support.

(ALL GASP)

Thank you and good night.

Are we fully certain he understood the term "schmooze?"

Do you wanna go, uh, check out an old pope's face

in some excrement?

He pushed the table forward and he went backwards.

Sure. I mean, you like a guy who disrespects furniture,

-I can do that. -Opposite and equal.

So, if we jettison some stuff, we could push forward,

past the ring-- Oh!

All right, our wonderful date continues.

Hey. Nice job schmoozing, Captain Schmooze.

What the hell was that? What are we gonna do?

FRANK: I know they're just turds, honey.

-Please help me. -All right, baby. Okay.

You're overheating. Just-- Let's go somewhere,

and we'll take your shirt off.

Hey, I see some familiar feces in the audience tonight.

BILLIE: Oh! You're improvising crap jokes.

That's very funny, I guess.

Thank you, but you've been a shit audience.

Okay, that was just the same joke.

Captain. Captain, I think I got it.

Look at them.

They have so much hope on their faces.

(CLICKS TONGUE) Oh, to be a happy cretin.

We should throw Matt out of the airlock

for making people panic that they're gonna be thrown out of the airlock.

I think that she's implying that we dump these vagrants

out of the airlock. Right, Iris?

-No, I'm not implying that. -Well, I'll gladly lend a hand.

Takes me back to my property days.

Clearing squats... with a cricket bat.

We shoot stuff out of the back, and that pushes us forward

to break free from the shit ring.

BILLIE: Correct. Plus, with the weight loss,

we can dock in six months.

I could hug you, but neither one of us wants that.

(AMERICAN ACCENT) Hey! Listen. Can I have your attention?

AUTOMATED FEMALE VOICE: Shuttle launch in five minutes and counting.

-ALAN: Uh, Rav. -RAV: Going for a walk.

ALAN: Rav, it's not safe outside.

RAV: I walk where I please. I can walk on you if I want.

My friends. I confess to you now that I see it.

I see the importance of faith.

(CHEERING)

-Faith in science. -MATT: Amen.

Science does not need faith. It just is.

-ALAN: Rav! -RAV: Not now!

Also, a couple of protesters have breached the perimeter,

so security would like to escort you to a safe place.

Alan, I'm not going anywhere until I've launched the shuttle!

-Rav? -Alan, I'm sorry!

Newton's...

-Third Law... -MATT: Mm-hmm!

...states, and I quote,

that if you throw stuff outta the back of the ship,

it pushes you forward.

Ravioli, where you going?

Alan, I'm going to bring Judd back myself.

-AUTOMATED MALE VOICE: Access authorized. -(LIFT POWERS UP)

I'm getting on that shuttle. Goodbye!

Don't do this! You'll miss your birthday!

There's been talk about ejecting 500 people from the ship.

That is the talk of Satan.

Lord, cast him out! But not of the airlock!

We eject the equivalent weight of 500 people,

and we jettison that weight, pushing us forward

within striking distance of Earth

within six months!

(ALL CHEERING)

-Six months! -Hallelujah!

-Amen! -MATT: Amen!

A-fucking-men!

-You're back in the black book! -Thank you, Harrison.

-(JUDD LAUGHS) -Get fucked!

Out of the way, poor people.

Hey! Hello, Mr. Schmooze.

-(RYAN SCOFFS) -And I'm saying that now unironically.

So, non-essential items to the hallway for jettisoning.

You can follow my lead. I overpacked. Come on.

-(ALL CLAMORING) -MATT: Ask yourself: "Do I really need

more than one pair of pants?"

Well done, Captain.

Thank you. Yep, I think it's...

(ENGLISH ACCENT) probably time for a drink.

No time! We don't have time!

That's not enough time to learn how to dock the ship!

Even I couldn't learn it in six months,

and I'm so much smarter than you.

-That is not enough time to learn how to dock a ship-- -That's not enough time!

-Six months? -No!

-What am I thinking? -No! Oh my god!

I need years!

Hey. What's the matter? Why are you acting like

a little foster child with a secret?

Okay, the Captain now has only got six months to learn how to dock the ship.

-That is not enough time. -What?!

It took me longer than that to learn how to poach an egg.

BILLIE: Well, let's just hope

that you are really, really good with deadlines.

The only thing I hear there is "dead."

You know what? I take back what I said to you before.

You're not Captain Schmooze.

You're more like Captain Booze.

♪ (TENSE MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

-IRIS: It's getting better. -Thank you.

IRIS: Really good.

-AUTOMATED FEMALE VOICE: Seven... six... five... four... -What's in the seat?!

-Uh, food flavorings. -Right. Won't be needing those.

-(METAL CLATTERS) -AUTOMATED VOICE: ...two... one.

-Go, go, go, go, go, go! -AUTOMATED VOICE: Launch.

-(ENGINES ROAR) -(SCREAMS)

♪ (MUSIC PLAYS) ♪