Original subtitles

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1 My Feral King...

I implore you, I will tell you everything.

You will?

- Anything. I will answer any question. - Okay.

What percentage of the universe is made of dark matter?

I...

Sorry, I didn't think it was gonna be general knowledge.

- Can I have an entertainment question? - Is the wrong answer.

Sports?

You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours.

Why did you betray me?

Oh, yeah, in fairness, it was... it was a bad decision.

I... I wasn't thinking.

And soon you won't be breathing.

Enter.

My Feral King, I am sorry to interrupt your torturing.

We have arrested more rebels who have been spreading the teachings of the holy one.

Bring these insurgents to me.

Let me gaze upon their ugliness.

Since I seized power,

there is no other god but me.

Our economy does not work, Rodon.

Few work, none share.

It is only if we embraced the teachings of Cloister

that we will learn there are greater treasures looking outward than in.

Take them to the marketplace and hang them.

Let the clowder see insurrection will not be tolerated.

Get out of the way, you dogs.

Come on!

We'll escape, and one day return to free our people.

I'll set a course for the ship of our birth.

May Cloister watch over us.

- Corrected by darthfrede - -- www.MY-SUBS.com --

Here he comes now. You do the talking.

Hey, guys.

Sir, may I be frank?

For some time now, we've been growing rather concerned about you.

Me? Why?

I've noticed of late you've been drinking slightly more

than your usual half a brewery a day.

Bend, would you, Krytes?

Also, I can't help but notice

that in the morning, you've often had a midnight snack.

It's only the odd ice cream waffle sandwich, some cheesy fries and a beer milkshake.

Followed by a main course.

Not always a main course! Sometimes I'm too drunk.

Also, sir, you've been collecting rather a lot of junk.

- What junk? Where's junk? - There's junk!

This isn't junk, this is antiques. Salvage from Cargo Bay 15.

We haven't been through any of that stuff yet.

I've already found Music For Rocking Dads,

Knitting For Beginners,

and an "I love boyband" badge in pristine condition.

What happened to you, bud?

You're a wreck.

Then perhaps I should use my Swedish massage chair

that doesn't have batteries.

No-one is blaming you, sir. You're carrying an enormous burden.

The future of the human race is entirely in your, well...

Hands?

Lower.

Danglier.

And you're deflecting from the real issue

by finding false interests to distract you.

How cool is this?

What's your point, Kryten?

I have a solution, sir, to your last-human-alive dilemma.

An issue that's clearly driving you to the brink of insanity.

Look at this... Subbuteo!

The Partick Thistle away kit.

Someone would probably kill for this.

You're looking at him. Give me that.

Now, this is a little unconventional, I grant you,

but with the meditech we salvaged from the Delta 7,

what I'm about to suggest is quite possible,

so I implore you both to give it your full and proper consideration.

Both? What's this got to do with me?

Well, sir, what if you had a sex-change operation?

Let me finish.

And became a woman?

Let me finish.

Mr Lister and yourself could then do the necessary.

Let me finish!

And produce a child together.

Have you been drying your head in the tumble dryer again?

With the meditech, making you a woman is a relatively straightforward procedure, sir.

Involving just a few snips and a bit of folding.

Where does the folding fit in?

Well, to make your lady garden, sir.

And with my long history with sheets,

you know how good I am at folding.

Dude, what you're suggesting is anatomically impossible.

But with the meditech, sir, it's perfectly possible.

Let me put it this way...

I'd never be able to get the plane off the runway,

if you get me drift.

Wait a minute. Are you saying if I was a woman I wouldn't be hot?

Bud, if I was a woman, you wouldn't be in no plane,

you'd be on Apollo 13, baby!

Your tongue would be hanging out your mouth like an old dog.

Cat, I wouldn't be attracted to you

if you were the most beautiful woman in the world,

cos I'm not attracted to you.

In fact, this whole crazy idea would have a better chance of working

if it was me that had the sex-change operation,

cos let's face it, you'd go with anyone.

Wait, hold on. Are you saying that you'd make a hotter woman than me?

I'd make a better woman than you.

I'm more empathetic, intuitive. I'm nicer.

Have you never seen my legs?

Cat, I'm not gonna get in some stupid, macho

"who would make the hottest woman" barney, okay?

- Although I know for a fact who it'd be. - Me.

- The greatest erogenous zone is what? - My mirror.

It's the brain,

and what with me having one, that puts you at a huge disadvantage, guy.

Kryten, follow me.

Ladies.

Following you, sir.

What are you doing?

I'm following you, sir, as requested, sir.

I don't mean follow me like you're a private eye, you imbecile.

I mean, accompany me to my destination.

Apologies, sir.

I sometimes wonder if you behave like a cretin on purpose,

as a means of thumbing your nose at my authority.

Engaging lie mode.

Lie mode engaged... Sir! I assure you my acting like a cretin is no act.

Lie mode, cancel.

You're lying.

Engaging lie mode.

Lie mode engaged. I most certainly am not, sir.

- Cancel lie mode. - I can hear you engaging lie mode.

- Did I say all that out loud? - Yes.

I knew I needed a service.

Not now, you rusty idiot. I need you. Follow me.

Did I say that out loud?

- Say what? - Excellent.

That green dot thing on the scanner screaming towards us at near light speed, what is it?

Well, it appears to be either some kind of ship or a missile.

Which?

Well, allow me to carry out some tests, sir.

What are you doing?

I'm waiting to see if Red Dwarf explodes, sir.

If it doesn't, I think we can presume it's a ship.

It's a ship.

It's giving off some kind of transmission but it's extremely faint. Any suggestions?

It's a long shot, sir, but have you considered turning up the volume?

- No-one likes a smart alex, Kryten. - It's smart aleck, sir.

The phrase is based on the exploits of Aleck Hoag,

a celebrated con artist from 1840s New York.

That's as maybe. We still can't understand this message, though,

can we, Mr Smarmy Pants?

The phrase is in fact smarty-pants, sir.

- It was first used in 19... - Just fix the distortion before I distort you.

Distortion is usually caused by some form of interference of the process signal.

Big words, my mechanoid friend, but for all your cleverness,

and despite being as well hung as Action Man,

it's not really getting us anywhere, is it?

This is an SOS distress call. Is anyone out there?

Our ship has run out of fuel and we're presently hiding

from our feral overlords on a transport vessel called the Iron Star.

Please help us. We're in great danger.

An SOS distress call?

I'll try and re-establish a link, sir.

Sod them, Kryten.

We've reached an age now where it's time to enjoy the home comforts

and curl up by a winter fire

and keep taking our various medications to keep us sprightly.

Not board derelict ships and have to flee from giant, genetically engineered man-eating cheese.

Well, I'm sure Mr Lister won't agree with you, sir.

Don't tell him, then.

In fact, erase all memory of the distress call from your memory.

That's an order.

Yes, sir.

- Did you do it? - Did I do what, sir?

Did you erase the SOS distress call from your memory?

We've received an SOS distress call?!

Damn, why did I say that? Right...

Erase all memory of me asking you to erase

all memory of the SOS distress call from your memory.

That's another order.

Yes, sir.

- Have you? - Have I what, sir?

Have you... just done what I asked you to do?

You mean have I fixed the distortion?

Why would I be fixing the distortion?

Sir! I think we've received an SOS distress call!

Erase that from your memory too. That's another order.

Erasing distortion order, sir.

What's the last thing you remember?

You want me to follow you, sir.

How did I get here? We were in the corridor.

I knew I needed a service!

Excellent.

Guys, guys, you're never gonna guess what we've found, me and Cat.

You see, I told you it wasn't all junk in the sleeping quarters.

I refuse to even step into that toxic cesspit of filth.

- What have you found, sir? - Holly's spare disc.

The defence rests.

Holly had a spare disc? Where is it?

Let's get it installed.

That's his disc?

Back in the day, this was the forefront of advanced technology.

I bet people couldn't believe how they'd managed to cram

his entire operating system onto such a teeny-weeny disc.

Well, hold on, where's it gonna go?

We're looking for a slot bigger than the Incredible Hulk's butt crack.

I always wondered what this was for.

What are we waiting for? Let's get Holly booted up!

Okay, come on, bring her round.

To me, to me.

Higher.

Higher, higher, higher, and push.

It still works.

It's connecting to the ship.

My name is Holly.

Holly, it's us. You're back, dude!

I am Red Dwarf's computer. I have an IQ of 6,000.

What's wrong with him?

He's been in the cargo bay for three million years,

leaning up against a damp wall.

That should've made him better, not worse.

Who are you? Please explain.

Of course. He's returned to factory settings.

He doesn't know who we are.

Holly, allow me to introduce myself.

I am First Technician Arnold J Rimmer, BSC, SSC.

Acting Senior Officer of Red Dwarf.

This is Kryten, an unimportant sanitation droid.

Cat... A Felis sapiens.

And Lister... A human. Or so he maintains.

I can't find any record of Kryten or a Cat in the ship's manifest.

No records? I've won best ass on board for thirty years straight!

That's cos they weren't part of the original crew, Hol.

Cat descended from domestic house cats

and we found Kryten on this crashed ship, the Nova 5.

He was looking after three skeletons. Totally unhinged.

But now I'm on Red Dwarf,

fitting right in!

Are you aware of the role I perform, Hologram Rimmer?

You're the Red Dwarf computer, Holly. You control the ship.

I'm also tasked with appraising Red Dwarf's worth to the Jupiter Mining Corporation

and decommissioning it if it serves no useful purpose.

Oh, God.

Obviously, this doesn't happen while a ship has a crew performing essential duties.

Oh, God.

Or even performing duties to an adequate level.

Oh, God.

But Holly, if I may,

JMC protocol insists no ship may be decommissioned

if it contains living crew members who are listed on the manifest.

All righty, then, we're sorted. I'm listed.

Looking through the records, Crewman Lister,

I see you smuggled an unquarantined cat on board.

As a result, you have forfeited all your crew privileges,

including your rights of residency on Red Dwarf.

I will therefore decommission the ship.

Meaning what?

Red Dwarf will be retired from active service.

He's crazy.

As part of this process, the ship's nuclear reactors will be dumped

in the nearest black hole, along with the ship's hologram.

He's starting to win me around.

You can't dump me in a black hole. I have my rights!

We want to appeal.

Maybe not all of us.

I will begin the deactivation process.

Due to the complexity of this operation, it will take seven days.

Kryten said you wanted to see me.

Yeah, I need your advice. This door keeps jamming.

And you want to repair this now?

I've no record of a malfunctioning door in airlock 7.

Well, maybe the feedback system's down as well, Hol.

We'll check it out, yeah?

Cover your mouth.

He can't hear us?

He may have an IQ of 6,000

but is he as smart as us when we put our heads together?

Not even close.

Look at him, the gormless gimp.

Can't hear a word we say.

So what are we gonna do?

No choice. We're going to have to shut him down.

But how?

EMP.

Electromagnetic pulse weapon?

Everything shuts down, we uninstall Holly.

Then we toss the dozy wazzock back on the garbage pile he came from.

Kryten's working on the EMP right now in the mineral ore storage bay.

Set to go off at noon.

Just sixty seconds.

I'm supposed to be fixing this door, so let's look busy, yeah?

All fixed now, Hol.

Just for the record, I heard every word you said in there.

Dozy wazzock, gormless gimp. Everything.

What about stupid bald git?

You didn't say that in there.

No, but I'm saying it now.

An EMP? I know your plan.

It's not happening.

Really? And where's Kryten?

He's in the MOS.

Detonating a meteorite to create electromagnetic energy

to take out the ship's grid at noon.

Which is precisely ten seconds from now,

and there ain't a damn thing you can do to stop him, baldy!

Tonight's the night.

Not tonight, Krytes. Now!

You said 12:00 AM, sir.

12:00 AM. Noon.

But 12:00 AM is midnight, sir.

Is it? I thought 12:00 AM was noon.

No, that's 12:00 PM, sir.

The mineral ore storage bay is now sealed off until further notice.

Also, your seven-day leaving period has been reduced to seven minutes.

What are we gonna do now?

We have to take Starbug and find a new ship.

Screw your head on, Kryten. We haven't passed a ship in yonks.

That's not strictly true. In fact, we passed one yesterday.

We did? Why didn't you tell us, sir?

I did, Kryten. I told you.

- Come on. - I knew I needed a service!

If we fire up the burners, we can catch that ship in a couple of days.

"If we fire up the burners on Starbug, we could catch that ship in a couple of days."

The thing about space is...

Don't say it's big.

It is big. It's really big.

94 billion light years in diameter, in fact.

Sometimes I can't find stuff in our fridge,

and that's only three feet in diameter.

Wait, I'm getting something!

I don't think it's the ship that passed Red Dwarf, it's something else.

Some kind of deep-space reconnaissance ship.

Handshaking now.

The ship is called the Iron Star

and was built several hundred years after Red Dwarf

with, presumably, all that brings in technological advances.

If this ship's in decent nick, we could've struck gold here.

This could be our new home.

I'll download the Iron Star's floor plan and show you round.

Iron Star.

Obviously needs some TLC,

but it's the perfect ship for those crews looking for a project.

And most importantly, there's no forward chain.

The AAR is now complete.

It is now safe to remove helmets.

How come Helmet-head gets to stay on Starbug?

Space Corps Directive 76239.

"Extreme caution should be taken on the naturist deck when peeling carrots"?

Derelict ships have to be made safe before the senior officer ventures onboard.

Hey, what's this?

What is that place?

I believe it's their hologram projection suite, sir.

It looks like the Iron Star was able to sustain multiple holograms.

They had tech way in advance of anything on Red Dwarf.

Yeah, it doesn't look like you have to wind up anything round here.

So how'd they do it?

A form of quantum energy known as diamond light.

It enables holograms to have unimaginable powers.

I'll be right down!

What's this?

It creates a force field around food you've elected not to eat.

Must be some kind of slimming aid.

It's on the no-meat vegan setting.

Smart cutlery. No thanks.

I like me cutlery stupid.

So what does this tech do? Can it upgrade my light bee?

Well, according to the notes, it gives holograms the ability

to manipulate light in all its forms.

- What the hell does that mean? - I'm not exactly sure.

I suggest we take the tech back to Starbug

and conduct further tests before we embark on an untested pathway.

I'm not waiting while you conduct your namby-pamby European Space Agency safety tests,

with me having to go before a committee of meddling grey-suited bureau-droids

and answer multiple-choice questions on where I'm most likely to find a croissant.

I'll take my chances now, thank you so much.

But, sir, this is technology we're unfamiliar with.

We need more time to evaluate if it's safe!

Kryten, I want the upgrade now, and that's an order.

Deactivate.

Are you sure this is safe?

Perhaps I'm over-worrying, sir.

After all, what's the worst that can happen?

I'm making a list. I'm up to ten already.

Make that eleven.

What's going on? I'm back to soft light.

No need to panic, sir. I believe it's just going through the gears.

With every jump I feel stronger, better, more powerful.

It's still going.

I haven't felt this amazing since I catalogued

all my books on obsessive-compulsive disorder using the Dewey Decimal System.

Congratulations, sir. You've upgraded to diamond light.

How do you feel?

Incredible.

I wonder...

I can change objects into light,

and transfer them back to their solid state again.

Soft and hard light working together in perfect quantum harmony.

Wait.

I'm a superhero!

I need a name.

Glitter Guy.

No, something better.

The Mighty Light.

I've never felt so powerful, so utterly amaze...

Mighty Light?

More like Shitey Sprite.

- What happened? - As you know,

we chose not to carry out European Space Agency safety checks.

As a consequence, the power surge has fried your battery.

Your light bee won't hold any charge.

The only way of powering you up now is from an independent power source.

- I'm plugged in?! - Well, without being plugged in,

you have just a few minutes of charge time left.

From Glitter Guy to the Cable Kid.

And once your charge is spent,

it's almost certain you'll shut down permanently.

Though I'm not getting my hopes up.

Why on Earth did we do the transfer without carrying out the proper safety tests?

Well, because you ordered me not to, sir.

Yes, but why did you listen to me?

You know I often don't know what I'm talking about,

and when I don't, it's your job to say something.

Well, I did try, sir.

Clearly not hard enough.

You are on report.

Kryten 2X4B.

Offence...

Listening to me.

Come on, let's check out the rest of the ship. Are we moving in or what?

And what am I supposed to do? Stay here?

You can come too. Just use the extension leads.

Yeah.

I'm Acting Senior Officer on this ship.

I have a certain standing, dignity and stature.

I'm not an electric hedge trimmer!

Is this the right way?

I think we might have taken a wrong turn, sir.

Whichever way we go, just make sure there are enough plug sockets.

I'm sure we've been this way before.

Sorry.

- Who were they? - Just some people. What?

It's him! The Holy Poppadom!

He has come back, as predicted by the Book Of Smeg!

I can speak!

A miracle!

Guys... Get up, get up.

- Who are you? - I... I am Brother Sol.

- I'm Sister Luna. - Sister Peanut. I can speak.

I couldn't before. Cos of you.

What are you doing here?

We are fleeing from the Feral Cats who seek to kill us

for spreading your teachings.

Wait, do you think I'm some kind of god?

We don't think, Holy Poppadom, we know.

Ever since I was a child, I've had three meals of vindaloo a day,

as the sacred writings said we must.

Only then will we be rid of the evil inside of us.

You did what?

Listen. There's been a massive misunderstanding

based on half-truths and... misunderstanding.

I'm just a man.

No-one special. A nobody, really. Come on, guys, back me up here.

- Well, he's a nobody. - He's less than nobody.

An absolute zero.

It's as we always imagined. Truly humble.

You have been such an inspiration to us, Holy Poppadom,

as our society fell to the Ferals and their tyrannical regime.

- Ferals? - Cats,

like you and I, brother, but vain and shallow creatures

who share nothing and care about nobody but themselves.

There are people out there like that?

But fear not, Holy Poppadom, for we have stolen the Anubis Stone...

which holds untold powers to whoever possesses it.

Anubis? Who's he?

A creature with the head of a cat who embalmed the dead.

According to the scriptures, he who possesses the sacred stone

shall fend off his enemies and lead his people to the promised land.

What is it?

On first look, I thought it was serendibite,

one of the most precious minerals in the universe.

But on closer inspection, I realised

it's varnished beetle dung.

Not so precious, then.

It is to them.

We are so blessed to have finally met our Holy Poppadom.

♪ Cloister... David Cloister. ♪

♪ Cloister... Cloisty... Cloister... Cloisty... ♪

♪ Cloister... David Cloister. ♪

♪ Cloister... Cloisty... ♪

Guys! Guys! Guys!

Let's take this from the top. My name isn't Cloister, it's Lister.

♪ David... David Lister. ♪

♪ Lister... Listy... Lister... Listy... ♪

Guys! Guys! Let me finish.

Okay. So, years ago...

- A sermon! - A sermon in the corridor!

All right. Years ago...

- Sir, may I have a word? - What, now? One minute, guys.

You can't tell them the truth!

But I have to.

These nutters think I'm their god.

Sir, if you tell them the truth, you'll break their hearts and crush their souls.

You're right. I have to play along. Act like a god.

Act like a god? You've scarcely mastered human.

Well, they surely won't be with us for long. What harm can it do?

What's this?

Energy signature, incoming.

Some kind of boarding party beaming in.

- Hey, cat buds, are you being followed? - The Ferals!

They're here, and they will not rest until we have meowed our last.

We beseech you, Holy Poppadom, protect us.

Hang on. How do we know they're not bait?

Bait? Who's the fish?

Look in the mirror and do this.

You know what? I've gotta help them. After all, they are my followers.

My friends, be not afraid.

Follow me.

"Be not afraid"?

This god lark's gone straight to his head.

No, it be this way.

Thy went left when thy meant to go right.

Wait for me!

So it's you who shelter our runaway clerics.

Who the hell are you?

I am the Commander of the Armies of the Feral Guards,

General of the Fearless Legions, Feral King,

and one goddamn gorgeous pussycat.

Where is the Anubis Stone?

Come on now, give it up.

Or you shall die.

And after you're dead,

we will present your bloody corpses to our people as a gift.

A "pamper me" bath and candle set often hits the mark too.

Who wants to die first?

If it's okay with everyone, I'd like to go ninth.

Silence, cat traitor!

Whore man.

Bitch of the people.

How comes this guy can't stand me?

He's only known me for twenty seconds.

He's probably just saving time.

You can't harm anyone any more, Rodon.

Look who is with us. Cloister, the god of our people.

That be I.

God who has created nothing but hate and division and war and death.

I've done some other stuff too.

If I allow you to live,

my sovereignty would dribble through my fingers like fine grains of kitty litter.

You must die.

- Look, what is it that you guys want? - The Anubis Stone.

Well, we had that.

We... We did have it, but... then we lost it.

- Didn't we, my followers? - No, we didn't. It is here.

And now we are protected by our Holy Poppadom, we will never give up the stone.

- Never. - Ever.

Get the stone.

- Me, my Feral King? - You are my royal aide, aren't you?

I'm... I'm more of a food and dining services sort of aide...

Having trouble putting on a bow tie... That's not me.

Getting mystical stones off people... Not really me either.

- Get the stone. - Right away, my Feral King.

Try and take the stone, and Cloister's wrath will be vented.

- Hail will rain down. - Plagues unleashed.

Men will be turned into slabs of salt.

Yeah, and not just normal salt, like low-sodium sea salt.

Go get the goddamn stone!

On my way. Here I go.

Excuse me, sorry. Coming through.

Nice to meet you.

Sorry. Sorry, coming through.

Watch what happens now as they defy the will of our Holy Poppadom.

Flush 'em out of an airlock.

Let the cat people witness the consequences

of questioning my sovereignty.

- Cat. - What?

Vegan forks! They won't let us stab meat!

We can only stab tofu and processed meat substitutes!

Sir! Some lettuce! Catch!

Not so confident now, are you?

Okay. I'm dropping the lettuce.

Lister, where are you?

My Alpha.

Where are they?

I grow weary waiting.

Destroy the Iron Star.

But, my Alpha, two of your party are still on board.

Send fish to their mamas.

Launch the meow missiles.

Now!

I'm unplugged. I've only got a minute or so left.

Have faith.

How are we doing, Holy Poppadom? Are we passing your test?

And his wrath was mighty.

- We need to get to Starbug. - We'll use the lift.

But you're not supposed to use lifts at times like this!

No, that's just fires.

When you're on disintegrating spaceships, no-one minds.

Engines on.

Retros on.

We are outta here.

The Iron Star's disintegrating.

We've got to get out of the debris field!

Something's caught us!

It's debris hitting the stern section, sir.

We're on fire. The ship is on fire.

It's heat from the fuel tanks. We're going to explode.

No choice. Stand by for module separation.

Uncoupling now!

Stern ejected.

Excellent quick thinking, Listy. Just one question...

How are you proposing to fly what remains of the ship

when all the engines are in the bit you've just ejected?

I'm probably worrying needlessly, I know.

To be honest, I didn't have an amazing amount of time

- to go through every option. - You mean like use a fire extinguisher?

Use a fire extinguisher! That could've worked too.

I just thought at the time, "Ship's on fire. Get rid of the fiery bit."

Get rid of the fiery bit, worry about the fly-ey bit later?

Tomorrow's another day.

Unfortunately, we need to get past today to get to tomorrow,

and it's the today part of your whizzo escape plan that concerns me.

Kryten, what's our present flight path?

It's down, sir.

Could you possibly be a bit more specific?

Well, it's straight down, sir.

Heading for that desert moon that's directly below us.

Anyone know how to land a cockpit?

There'll be a way. Kryten will know.

He always knows about stuff like this.

Not absolutely always, sir, as I'm about to prove.

How come you don't know? I thought you were meant to be a major astro.

That's the predictive text misspell for what he is.

Well, what are we gonna do?

The owner's manual. Look for the owner's manual.

You'll find it with the service history and the MOT.

Is this it?

- This is interesting. - What?

Apparently, the infotainment touch screen has a pinch-to-zoom feature

and delivers the richest audiovisual entertainment

in any low-budget ship-to-planet transport vehicle to date.

Who knew that?

Look, we're entering the upper atmosphere.

The ship's not slowing down. The atmosphere's too thin.

"Landing."

Got it. 247.

43, 45, 47.

"Launch parachute."

- Parachute? - Launching parachute.

Launching parachute!

Where's the parachute? There's no parachute. It's not here.

How can it not be here?

Is the parachute that... big shiny fluffy piece of material with coloured stripes?

You removed the emergency parachute to make yourself a Puffa jacket?

Not just a Puffa. I got a pair of mittens out of it, too!

It was silk. What did you want me to do?

Relax, sirs, there's an emergency backup... Is there?

Or is the backup parachute now hanging in your wardrobe

next to your leather jacket made out of the ejector seats?

When have I ever had two suits the same?

I used one parachute.

Launching parachute.

Retros on.

Touchdown in five seconds. Brace for impact.

Starbug has landed.

- Permission to go into apeshit mode. - Permission granted.

What now?

We've gotta take stock. Food, water, fuel... What have we got?

Food... None.

Water... None.

Fuel...

None.

- Corrected by darthfrede - -- www.MY-SUBS.com --