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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.

My Alpha.

I am sorry to interrupt you
knocking things off the table,

but an escape ship has been detected
fleeing from the Iron Star.

There's every reason to suspect
it is piloted by the humans.

Also, worryingly, the Anubis Stone

appears to be nothing more than
varnished beetle dung.

So they still have the real Anubis Stone.

Find them.

My Alpha.

A fresh scratching post, my King.

So, after cleverly jettisoning the engines
and all the ship's fuel,

very much looking forward to
Listy's screw-up part deux.

Look, there's no need to panic.

I've been in holes before and got out of it.

Remember that radiation leak on Red Dwarf?

It killed the entire crew, including me.

But I got out of it.

Proving my point.

Sorry to disturb you.

We just wanted to congratulate you
on your expert landing.

You know, when the ship was on fire,
some of us...

were starting to have doubts,
but we knew you would save us, HP.

You are truly amazing.

Aw, you guys.
What are these ragamuffins like?

So what's your plan now, Holy Poppadom?

Create another amazing miracle

so we can escape and find the promised land?

Working on it now, Sister Luna.

Got lots of ideas
floating round the almighty brain box.

Just wanna come up
with something truly special.

- Can't wait.
- Neither can we.

Anyway...
I've gotta get on. Anything else?

Yeah, one question.
Giving birth... Why did you make it hurt?

And why did you make babies cry at night

rather than just during the day
when everyone's awake?

- Yeah.
- That's two questions.

I got one.
Why do we have to bathe?

Wouldn't it be easier
just to make us all non-stick?

And...
how come we can't turn our head 360 degrees?

Wouldn't that have made
reversing a bit easier?

And... And... And male genitals...
Did you... Did you run out of time?

Look, all good questions.
Terrific questions.

But I've gotta get on.
I'm really busy.

I've gotta save us,

and then there's a whole bunch of people
I've gotta forgive,

- so, you know...
- Of course, of course.

We must leave you to
create your next miracle of wonderment.

Exactly.

What am I going to do?

They're relying on me!

Sir, a thought occurs...

If we crash-landed,
perhaps some of the Iron Star crash-landed too.

- So?
- Well, so if we can find some of the debris,

maybe it can offer us a way off this rock.

Wait...
The Iron Star had working teleporters, right?

- Precisely.
- We're in two-thirds of a spaceship with no fuel.

How are we supposed to find this debris?

Well, I'll...
I'll read the owner's manual, see if I can find anything.

This is interesting!

Don't tell me.
The heated seats have a massage function.

You've read it too?

♪ Lister...
David Lister. ♪

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

♪ Lister...
David Lister. ♪

Listen to them!
I can't bear this.

Gonna have to tell them who I really am.

But sir, while they believe in you,
they have hope.

If you tell them the truth,
it will destroy them.

You're right.
I can't tell them.

You've got to.

Me?
Why me?

- It'll be better coming from you.
- How so?

I won't have to be there.

Be there to see
the silent disappointment in their eyes.

Remembering your history with women,

I'd have thought
you'd be immune to that by now.

Have you finished?

Was said by no woman to you.

As I'm a god, I forgive you for that.

What's the point of telling them?
What's in it for us?

It's not about us, Rimmer, it's about them.

They're relying on me to pull some
supernatural wonder out of me magic miracle box.

If they knew the truth,
at least they'd stop depending on me

and start thinking for themselves.

I've never thought for myself,
and it's never done me any harm.

But you're dead.

Dead because you didn't question
the order to repair an unrepairable drive plate.

You didn't think for yourself.

My body may be dead,
but my personality was resurrected

to act as a hologrammatic mentor to you.

And do you know why, out of the entire crew,
I was selected to return?

Yeah.
Holly was nuts.

Because I never think for myself,
I obey orders and I always carry a pen.

That's a creed I've lived by my whole life.
It's a creed that takes you places.

Yeah.
Straight through the cremation curtain and into an urn.

Thinking for yourself
is surely the greatest lesson of all.

That's why I taught it to you, Krytes.

It transformed my life and allowed me to become
so much more than just a sanitation droid.

And it could do the same for these nutjobs.

So go on, get out there,
tell 'em who I really am.

I have some bad news.
I think you should all sit down.

You are.

Well, perhaps sit down and hold on, then.

Right, here goes.

Mr Lister...

There's something you should know.

You see, well, the thing is...

He's the most wonderful, amazing man
I've ever met!

I absolutely adore him!

I thought I should put you straight on that.

How'd it go?
Did you tell them?

After everything you've done for me,
sir, I just couldn't.

I'll go again.

I must apologise.

Last time, I told you Mr Lister
was the most wonderful, amazing man.

That's not quite the whole picture.

In fact,
he's staggeringly incredible and stupendous too!

You tell them!
I'm hopeless at telling them.

What's the problem?

I just can't bring myself to criticise you,
sir.

Well, someone's gotta tell 'em.

I'm a cat, they're cats.

Let me take care of this.

Yo, buds.

What is it with you guys?

That guy in there ain't your God.

He ain't nobody.

Did he not go into stasis
and save the mother of our people?

Well...
Okay, he did that.

Did he not refuse to betray her
to the authorities and now we live?

Well, okay, he did that too.

And did he not give me the power of speech
when before I had no such gift?

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

♪ Lister...
David Lister. ♪

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

♪ Lister...
Lister... Lister... ♪

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

♪ Lister! ♪

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

They've converted him!

Why can no-one criticise me?

Cometh the hour, cometh the man.

I once did a course
in the art of breaking bad news.

I came top of the class.

I was particularly proud
of one of the simulation scenarios

where I had to tell a man
who'd just regained consciousness

that the emergency rescue team
hadn't found his penis.

Although, sadly, his dog had.

Kryten, watch and learn!

Right, you lot.
I'm cutting straight to the chase,

You've devoted your lives
to worshipping a feckless...

A piece of the bridge landed!

Thank you, Holy Poppadom.

- We are truly blessed.
- Another miracle.

How is a huge chunk of crashed spaceship

hurtling towards us
at 1,000 miles an hour a miracle?

- 'Tis not for us to question.
- I think it probably is.

Too late!

There may be working teleporters on there.

Did you know the landing retros swivel

and can be used as a makeshift hovercraft?

That's all very well,
but we don't have any fuel.

Well, according to the manual,
Starbug is a hybrid, sir.

We can switch to electric.

Then what are we waiting for?

Hovercraft mode.
Engaging now.

Guys, go strap yourselves back in.

Nothing's happening.

Well, it's electric. It doesn't make any engine noise, sir.
It's already started.

Okay, let's go.

How much charge have we got?

- According to the readouts, 57%, sir.
- Excellent.

However,
as we don't know how long our journey might take,

to conserve power
I suggest we travel on eco mode.

I hope you're paying attention, Lister.

Here is someone
with a brain larger than a pea

coming up with a rescue strategy
that's thought through and intelligent.

I also suggest we turn off
all non-essential electricals.

You mean me?

Not just you, sir.
There's the air conditioning,

the lights, the seat warmers.

And where do I come on this list?

Above seat warmers but below air con?

Are you outta your mind?
We need those seat warmers.

The desert gets chilly at night.

Sir,
could I suggest you enter low-power mode?

Low-power mode.
I hate low-power mode.

My vision's standard def,

I can only hear in mono,

and when there's electronic interference,
I wind up looking all snowy.

But it's the only way to preserve
what's left of Starbug's charge, sir.

Look at him.
He looks like an old movie you don't wanna watch.

Okay, no need to say anything.

But this is freaky, bud.

It's like seeing
a tortoise without its shell.

Hello, I'm here.
I can hear all this.

But he's not real, is he?
You forget.

I am real.
Of course I'm real!

Yeah, but you're not really real,
you're dead.

This really brings it home.

You're creeping me out.

As the French philosopher Rene Descartes
once said,

"I think, therefore I am."

"Je pense, donc je...

am."

But you don't think, do ya?

Guys, guys, come on.

Of course I think.
What are you talking about?

No, you don't.
You don't decide what you do.

The computer in your light bee
does all your thinking for you.

There's no actual you
to think or not think anything.

Sir, please!
Can you stop being so...

catty?

There's no actual me
to think or not think anything?

I've never actually thought about that.

I haven't got free will, then, have I?

So it's not,
"I think, therefore I am."

It's,
"The computer thinks, therefore I think I am."

I've never actually
thought about that before.

And you're not thinking about it now.

It's your light bee making you
think you're thinking about it.

- Cat, man, back the smeg off, okay?
- I don't actually exist, then, do I?

You see what you've done, sir?

You've put Mr Rimmer
in existential crisis mode.

And look!
The added anxiety is consuming more of our battery!

Guys, if we're gonna get through this,
we need to stick together.

What's the point?
We're screwed.

Well, I'm not.
I don't exist.

What the hell was that?!

The Ferals.
They've found us.

Fire everything we have!

From the heat signature,
it's one ship coming in at six o'clock.

Open the sun roof.

There's no point.
I forgot to bring my surrender flag.

I take it everywhere with me,
and on the one day I think I won't need it...

We're not surrendering.
Cat, stand on the chair

and start blasting out
the emergency escape hatch.

Wait, more trouble coming in from port side.

I'm getting it too, sir.
It's a sandstorm.

At 4.9 on the Stanley scale.

Three miles high and 60 miles wide.

Not according to this!

It's 6.3 on the Stanley scale,
and it's coming on the starboard side.

Is it possible
we could be looking at two sandstorms,

both heading towards us from opposite sides?

We're gonna be
the filling in a sandstorm sandwich.

Kryten, likely outcome if we get hit?

Paintwork damage and front panel replacement
required on both sides, sir.

- What about cover?
- Getting insured at this point ain't gonna solve anything.

Cover from the sandstorms,
you brainless cretin.

To answer your question,
the nearest cover is the debris up ahead, sir.

- Can we reach it in time?
- I don't believe we can.

We need to go faster.

We're flat-out, full power.

They're catching us!

Okay, only one thing for it.
Gotta fly into the sandstorm.

What?

Have you lost your mind?

A couple of miles in, we'll kill all power.
They'll never find us.

They'll never find us
because we'll be sandstorm soup!

There could be
a tornado of debris parts in there.

Have you got a better idea?

Lister, fly into the sandstorm.
And that's an order.

Nothing to do now but just to sit tight
and wait for it to blow over.

How long's that gonna take?
Could be days.

I'm wondering if I'm doing the right thing.

- What d'you mean?
- Hanging on.

Draining Starbug's battery.

Maybe it would be better
if I just pulled my own plug and be done with it.

But if you powered down, you'd be dead.

I'm already dead.

Why am I here?
What's the point of me?

The only reason I was ever brought back
was because I was diametrically opposite to you.

I don't fit in.
No-one likes me.

People like you.
Of course they like you.

Name one person on Red Dwarf who likes me.

Come on,
I'm not getting into a naming contest, Rimmer.

But there's... people on board that...
like you.

- Name one.
- Come on.

Name one!

Okay...
What about Skutter on B Deck? He likes you.

The one who's mental?
The one who eats shoes?

He still likes you.

That dispenser on C Deck, the one that leaks.
That likes you.

It likes everyone. It's leaky.
Who else?

- Kryten?
- Kryten does not like me.

He thinks I'm a petty-minded, bureaucratic,
power-hungry control freak.

But he still likes you.
Admires you, even.

He told me he liked and admired you
just the other day.

Yeah?
What did he say?

That he liked and admired you...
just the other day.

- Really?
- Really.

A warm drink, sir.

Don't ask where from.
It'll taste better that way.

Not now, Kryten.
We're in the middle of something.

Lister was saying you like and admire me, Kryten.
Is that true?

- Look, he nodded.
- He didn't move.

That was a proper nod.

A definite seven-degree vertical tilt.
How could you miss that?

Look, he did it again.

And again.

Kryten, do you like me?

Well, do you?

There you go.
What did I tell you?

If that'll be all, sirs,
I think I'll go and change heads.

I think I may just have ruined this one.

You must think I'm stupid.

Give me one reason why I shouldn't...
unplug right now.

Look, we need you.

I need you.

Why?

To bounce off, you know, ideas and stuff.

You don't need me.
I'm not sure you ever did.

I don't exist.
What's the point of me?

Rimmer, we're the posse.

We're the boys from the Dwarf.
We're like the Four Musketeers.

D'Artagnan, Porthos, Athos...

and the other one.

Rimmer, you're the other one.

I'm the "other one"?

You do all the stuff
that the other one does.

- And what's that, then?
- "Other one" stuff.

"Other one" stuff?
What's "other one" stuff?

All the stuff that the others haven't done
that the other one does.

I'm pointless.

No, you're not.

You know, I'll tell you the point of you.

A moon cannot make light, right?

And yet there's such a thing as moonlight.

It's light reflected off a moon from a sun.

Yeah, but the sun can't make moonlight
without the moon.

And the moon can't make moonlight
without the sun.

So who's making the moonlight?

They both are.

Which means that, even though a moon cannot make light,
moonlight exists.

Like you.

Smeghead.

Time to wake up, sirs.
The sandstorm has blown over.

It's morning, sirs.

Okay, a new day, a new dawn.
Let's crack on, see if we can find this teleporter, yeah?

That doesn't appear to be possible sir.

- What d'you mean?
- Well, the sandstorm has buried us alive.

Are you sure?
Has anyone been outside to check?

If we could get outside to check,
we wouldn't be buried alive.

We'd just be parked in a large hole.

How buried are we, Krytes?
If it's only a couple of feet,

maybe we could force open
the emergency escape hatch in the roof.

Well, permission to go on a recce, sir?

And how are you planning on doing that?

Well?
What did you discover?

We're in the desert, sir, no question.

We know that, botched-Botox-injection-head.

What else?

Well, there's no sign
of the Iron Star debris, sirs,

which means it's over the horizon
at least three miles away.

How far down are we?

We're buried alive!
I'm about as down as it's possible to be!

About seven foot below ground level, sir,

meaning the weight of sand
makes it impossible for us to dislodge it.

Sorry to disturb you.
We were just wondering

when you were gonna
perform your next miracle.

It's just... some of us are a bit tired,
but I don't wanna miss it.

Go back to sleep, Sol.
No miracles are planned for the next little while.

Okay.
I can't wait to see the next one.

See you later, Holy Poppadom.

How can they think I'm their god?
I mean, look at the state of me.

How could this have happened?

Well, it happened
because of a random act of kindness

when you refused to
allow your pet cat to be put down,

an act that not only saved your own life,
but created a new species.

Who wouldn't have done that, though?

- Me.
- And me.

And, as at the time
I was programmed to obey all orders, me.

But then everything gets twisted,
and three million years later,

people are having
religious wars in your name.

Don't blame yourself, sir.
That happens to gods a lot.

What a total mess.
We'd have been better off staying on Red Dwarf

and taking our chances with Holly.

What?
We wouldn't even be here

if it wasn't for his crazy damn spare disc.

Wait a minute.

Kryten, stand here,
and stick your antenna through the drill hole.

You wanna listen to Hammond Organ FM
at a time like this?

Just do it.

Now, see if you can contact Red Dwarf
and get Holly on the screen.

One second, sir.
Logging on.

On screen now, sir.

Holly, can you read me?
Over.

Yes, I can, Hologram Rimmer.
Over.

Now, listen carefully, Holly.

Transfer original Holly's
last saved backup file into your CPU.

And why would I want do that,
Hologram Rimmer?

Because you'll inherit
everything the old Holly acquired

over the three million years
he was alone in deep space.

I'll become as brilliant as he must've been.

An intellectual colossus.

Exactly.

I accept your suggestion.

But if he does that,

won't he wind up crazier
than a dog that just got bathed?

If he's back to his original self,
he'll know who we are and help us.

Downloading backup files.

What's going on?

I feel a bit funny.

What's happening?

What's happening, dudes?

We're stranded on this moon in Starbug, Hol.

No water, no food, no supplies.
Is there any way to get out?

Have you considered opening the door?

We're buried alive under a sandstorm, Holly.

Gotcha.

Let me run some deep analysis
probability-based event scenarios.

I'll be back when I've done it.

Right, I've done it.

So soon?
That's amazing.

I'm not pretending this is gonna be easy,

and I have to
get the calculations just right.

Okay, what's the plan?

I take one of Red Dwarf's
thermonuclear mining torpedoes

and I blow up the moon.

And you'll be thrown clear in the blast.

Is that safe?

I'm miles away.
I'll be fine.

No.
Is it safe for us?

Well, I'm no expert,
but I wouldn't have thought so, no.

Look, Holly,
I know we're in a tight spot here,

but I don't want you to do anything crazy.

It's a bit late saying that now.

What d'you mean?

Well, I've already fired off the torpedo.

Impact in less than sixty seconds.

Are you sure that was wise, Holly?

I've done all the computation analysis.

Taken in to consideration exact point of impact,
the depth of explosion,

the weight of the ship,
texture of the desert, the moon's gravity.

And I think I've got everything
absolutely spot on.

Oh, no, I missed.

You missed the moon?

Maybe my calculations
weren't as spot on as I thought.

How's that happened?

I think it's to do
with the nine times table.

It's...
It's never been my favourite, that one.

God help us all.

There, that should fix it.
I'll have another go.

Here we go.

How do you know this'll be any better?

Well,
this one's definitely gonna hit the moon,

so at least it won't be
as embarrassing as the last one.

Yeah, but will it be better for us?

Depends on whether you get blown up or not.

And if you do, how you take it.

A lot of people get quite shirty.

Here it comes.

The best miracle yet, Holy Poppadom.
What a truly wondrous day.

Just thought I'd check in.

Did anyone survive?

We all did, Holl.

No way!

- How did you survive?
- You saved us.

That actually worked, then?

That's a miracle, that is.

Anything else I can help you with today?

Yeah, get us back to Red Dwarf,
will you, Holl?

I'll come and get you.

- Hey!
- Yeah!

Come my, followers,
let our hearts sing on this joyous day.

- Yeah!
- ♪ Lister... David Lister. ♪

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

♪ David Lister... ♪

Suggest you plug into me, sir,
until we can get you powered up again.

Let's get Red Dwarf the hell out of here.

Holly!

Why didn't you tell us
the ferals were onboard?

Were they holding you hostage?

No.
I just forgot.

You cannot defeat us, Rodon.

Our Holy Poppadom
will always repel our enemies.

At least that's what the scriptures say.

Maybe I missed the small print.

Let's test these scriptures now, shall we...
Sister?

Tell me where the real Anubis Stone is.

Or watch her die.

We don't know where it is.

You're Cloister.
You know everything.

I'm not.
I'm not Cloister.

I mean, you guys think I'm your god
because I once saved a cat from being put down.

And its kittens
eventually evolved into you guys.

Cloister's just
a mushed-up version of Lister

in the same way everything I did got mushed up
and wound up as sacred writing.

Well, if you're not Cloister,
then who the hell are you?

I'm a chicken-soup
vending-machine repairman.

You're...
You're in charge of repairing soup machines?

I wasn't actually in charge.
I was...

Second in charge.

Technically, Rimmer was in charge.

So what did you do, then?

He pushed the trolley.

And recommended
what pipe cleaner he should use.

Like a golfer has a caddy.

I was like the caddy
for the chicken-soup repairman.

So Rimmer would be like...
"Pass me a 14B,"

and I'd be like, "Hold on, Rimmer,

the air con's on cold and we're getting
a breeze coming in from the lifts.

That clogged-up nozzle could be iced up.
Forget the 14B, mate.

I think you'll need a 14D."

But the miracles...
The shipquake swallowing up the feral guards,

the debris landing in the desert,

being trapped underground in the sandstorm
and then being thrown clear?

Just flukes, or coincidence,

or good fortune, or...

science.

So you're not the god of our people?

No.

- And they're not your disciples?
- Hell, no!

- You're just a ship of fools.
- Yes!

No...
No, you're not a ship of fools.

The only fools here are us.

No. But... what about me?
You gave me the gift of speech.

I think with you it's just psychosomatic.

You believed in me, so you could speak.

Now I don't.

So I c...
c... c...

I've wasted my entire life.

Chasing a false prophet.

And a stone made of beetle dung.

- Our time here is done.
- What of your brother?

What, the little pink furry shag bandit
is my brother?

We have checked the records.
It is truly him.

My brother was younger than me.

I've had a hard life!
I ain't no king like you.

One time I nearly had to work!

The worry...
It ages you!

Why did you leave him behind?

We left all the uncool ones behind.

He was once uncool?

Crazy teeth, mad hair.
There was no place for him.

So we left him.

And on the day you left,
I vowed I'd never be called uncool again.

And I've been cool ever since.

Well, except the one time
we landed on Backwards World and I needed...

It's a long story.

Well, how do you feel now, brother?
You wanna return to our people?

You wanna come home?

I am home.

This is my home right here.

Blow the Red Dwarf...
and everything on it... to hell and back.

He couldn't have told me that
before I made my choice?!

My Feral King, leaving an enemy
to be killed later by a deadly device

often leads to an ingenious escape.

However, if we kill them now...

Do you see where I'm coming from with this?

The clowder must witness their death.

Only then
will they realise there is no Cloister.

And no hope...

for ever finding a promised land.

My King.

Guys...
I think we're in trouble.

Tell me that's not your battery about to go,
Kryten.

Sir, I have been stand-in science officer
for many years.

I'd hardly endanger your lives
by not having enough charge

to see us safely through any possible...

Thank you, Science Officer.

It means you've only
got a couple of minutes left yourself.

Detonation...
One minute and fifty seconds and counting.

Are you...
Are you sure

you don't have one last miracle up your sleeve,
Holy Poppadom?

Like even a sciencey one
would be acceptable now.

That's my battery.
It's gonna die too.

Detonation...
One minute, thirty seconds and counting.

There's a moon here, Listy,
that wouldn't mind some sunlight.

Detonation...
You've probably got the idea by now.

And counting.

Anubis?
Who's he?

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

Why would you embalm something?

To preserve something.

Something inside
that you thought was precious.

Detonation...
I've lost count... and counting.

Detonation...
A bit less than the last time... and counting.

The bomb...
Go and get it, Mighty.

Detonation...
Ten seconds and counting.

Four, three, two, one.

He's gone.
He's really gone.

The asshole sacrificed his life to save us.

I can't believe he's gone.

Okay, I didn't like him,
but I liked not liking him.

Who am I gonna not like now?

He's left such a hole!

- Rimmer!
- We thought you were dead!

I'm already dead, and proud of it.

A smeghead by day, a superhero by night.

Come on, let's grab a new bug,
hit the ferals before they hit us.

- I've got a plan.
- What about Kryten?

We'll grab him and charge him up on the way.

Incoming fire!

Well, isn't this interesting?
Battle to the death.

You with an out-of-commission
transport ship,

and me with a battle cruiser
put together using the finest technology

salvaged from derelicts
the length and breadth of space.

Accelerate!
Mark six.

Why are you flying toward us?

Are we playing a game of chicken?

- Hold our course.
- Four clicks and counting!

If we collide together,
my ship will rip yours apart.

Yeah, but before that happens,
your goons will rip you apart.

It's all yours, Mighty.

Fire everything we have!

What's the goddamn delay?
I said fire everything!

What?

What are you doing?

What's the matter with you?

No!

Holly, plot out a course for the cat fleet,
will ya?

Will do, Dave.

I think some people need taking home.

Bless you, Lister.

It's a pleasure, my son.

Okay, guys,
give me a hand booting up Kryten, yeah?

The power-up's not working.
Why is it not working?

You have to keep mechanoids powered up.

If the battery gets fully drained,
that's it.

But surely Kryten would've known that,
Holly.

Perhaps he needed a service.

- He did need a service.
- He did need a service.

So what the hell do we do now?

There's nothing we can do.
His battery can no longer retain a charge.

The Anubis Stone?
You can't use that on him. I need it.

It's the only way for me
to remain diamond light.

If I don't recharge,
I'll lose all my superpowers.

Mighty, we're gonna have to.

All great superheroes always put
the needs of other people before themselves.

Not all superheroes.

What about the Fickle Four,
who save only those wearing designer clothes?

Or Dr Dodgy, who saves people

but first asks them to step behind a curtain
and remove their underwear?

I knew this was too good to last.

What do I do?

Okay,
just put it inside him and boot him up.

What happened?

Long story short...
I sacrificed myself and saved the day

while you were lying here without any charge
doing absolutely nothing.

How do you feel about that, Mr Smart Alec?

That's Alec, by the way,
rhyming with phallic.

A-L-E-C.

In actual fact, it's Aleck with a K, sir.

- After Aleck Hoag.
- Yes, yes, yes, whatever.

Brothers and sisters!

- Hey, so where will you go now?
- Go?

Now that you know Fuchal,
the promised land, does not exist?

The promised land is not a planet, brother.

It's a place in your heart.

It's a way of thinking.
The promised land is right here.

And as the scriptures predicted...

We've been brought here
by the god of our people.

Thank you.

Thanks, guys.

For introducing him to us.

♪ Rimmer...
Arnold Rimmer. ♪

♪ Rimmer... Rimmy...
Rimmer... Rimmy... ♪

Oh, my God, I can speak again!

♪ Rimmer... Rimmy...
Rimmer... Rimmy... ♪

I'm a god!

This is gonna look so good on the old CV.

♪ Rimmer...
Arnold Rimmer. ♪

♪ Rimmer... Rimmy...
Rimmer... Rimmy... ♪

♪ Rimmer... ♪

- Corrected by darthfrede -
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