All language subtitles for Red Dwarf S08E01-03 Back In The Red 720p BluRay H264 BONE.en

(RED DWARF THEME)

Remember Argyle Somerfield,
the old movie star?

Eighty-three according to this.
And he's just had a baby with his nurse.

"'It was love at first sight', she
cooed. ‘I've always liked older men."

God, if she ever ran into Tutankhamen,
he wouldn't stand a chance.

She'd have his bandages off
before you can say "silicon implants”.

Some pictures of them here
with the newborn.

There's Argyle and there's the baby.

Oh, no, no, no, there's Argyle
and there's the baby.

I was thrown for a minute
by the bib and the bonnet.

Thought that was the baby at first.

An 83-year-old dad.

How's that gonna work?

I bet you he's not gonna get up
in the middle of the night

to help give the baby its feed.

Probably pretend to be dead.

"Darling, can you give the baby
his bottle tonight?"

It's not going to work, is it?

The only advantage, as far as I can see,

is the wife can change
both their nappies at the same time.

You still not talking to me?

It's unbelievably childish, you know.

Got a good mind to fill your shoes
with runny porridge again.

That'd teach you a lesson
about maturity.

All right, I'll tell you what,

I bet I can make you say something
in the next minute.

Twenty big ones.

Shake on it.

All right, well, if I'm on, say nothing.

I'm on. Okay.

I'm gonna say something, all right,

and you're gonna totally lose it.
Are you ready? You ready?

All right. Several years ago,

when money was not abundant and I needed
- I mean medically needed, a pint...

I took some money from your purse.

(IMITATING CREAKING)

(IMITATING AN EXPLOSION)

Oh, God, it was horrible going in there.

The wallet that time forgot.

Not that there was any point.
The barman on B deck wouldn't serve me.

Said doubloons
weren't legal tender anymore.

Said you should have handed them in
after the Spanish Armada.

Thought that'd get you going.

You hate digs about your stinginess.

Usually makes you so agitated

that you've got to go and make a cup
of tea with a brand-new tea bag.

Well, still, plenty of time to go.

Remember Yvonne McGruder?

You really liked her, didn't you? Eh?

I used to go out with her, you know.
Before you did.

You didn't know that, did you?

Broke up in the end. Really hurt me.

Still got the scars today.

They never heal, carpet burns, do they?

Both cheeks, man.

She nearly wore them down to the bone.

- Will you shut up?
- What did I tell you?

Twenty big ones.

I've been listening to you whittling on
now for what seems like two ice ages.

My mind is so numb and braindead,

I feel like I've just attended
a three-day seminar

entitled The Future of Plumbing.

Have you any idea
how irritating you've just been?

You're a master. There are things you
could teach to tropical skin diseases.

- Well, talk to me, then.
- No.

Look, I'm sorry, okay?

How many times do you want me to say it?
I am sorry.

- No, you're not.
- It was an accident.

An accident?
You poured a whole tube of it over me,

you disgusting, rotting,
fetid piece of congealed monkey vomit.

At last you're talking to me.

I knew we'd make it up.

Eighty-three.

CAT: Seems even bigger than I remember.

(BUZZING)

Uh...guys, we've got a problem.

Hey, guys, look at me body.

There's an invitation
that will not cause a stampede.

No. It's back to normal.

There's no time for that now, sir.

We're flying down a corridor
on Red Dwarf

and Starbug appears to be expanding.

It's not Starbug that's expanding,
it's Red Dwarfthat's shrinking.

It must be something to do with
the nanobots' molecular process.

Just like my body.

We're being sucked into a vent.
Can't fight it.

- Air vent walls closing in.
- We must take action.

Be bold, positive, decisive.

I suggest we move from blue alert
to red alert, sir.

Forget red!
Let's go all the way up to brown alert!

But there's no such thing
as brown alert, sir.

You won't be saying that in a minute.

And don't say I didn't alert you.

All right, dudes.

Anyone fancy a game of charades using
Just your nose or is this a bad time?

Holly, we're about to get
crushed to death.

So that's a no, then, is it?

Once the nanos rebuilt the ship,

I thought things were going
to get back to normal.

We don't know where we are, what to do
and haven't a clue what's happening.

Things are back to normal.

You don't even fancy
a bit of a quick one?

Science fiction film, name of the ship,
one word.

(HUMMING)

The Nostrilomo.

Spent a week thinking that one up.
Good, isn't it?

Computing time to impact. Calculations
coming through. Here they come.

How long have we got?

About the time it takes
to read a stop sign, sir.

That's okay, then. I don't
always get through those in one sitting.

What are our chances
of getting out of here?

About the same odds as discovering
Mr Lister

saddle stitching the hem
of a pair of linen maternity slacks.

I must admit, it's been a while
since I did that.

Can't you get this crate to go faster?

It's gonna be like getting crushed
to death in a gigantic trouser press.

Freshly laundered and wrinkle-free.

I always prayed I'd go out like that.

There's maybe a way through this
if we take a detour.

Past Epsilon 14 and take a right
at the hydro unit.

We'll save about two minutes.

What do you say, sir? I don't understand
a woman who's hurtling towards 30

and still has
a teddy bear called Boo Boo,

but when it comes to navigation,
there's none finer.

What's your view, Hol?

Straight up your nose
when you lean in like that.

What do you think we should do?

Well, in the most recent survey
of people's favourite ways of dying,

being squashed to death
came in at a disappointing 94.

Mainly because it doesn't involve
sex or booze.

And mourners tend to snigger when
they see your remains in the coffin.

So what's your point?

My point is,
don't get squashed to death.

‘Cause If you do,
you're missing out big time

on all the really fun ways of dying.

Epsilon 14.

There's some kind of heartbeat up ahead
and it's beating at an incredible rate.

You mean there's a heart out there with
no body? No wonder it's beating so fast.

Hey.

(SQUEAKS)

(HEART BEATING)

I hope we don't get stopped by the cops.

They don't like it
when you're rat-arsed.

According to the data,
we've lost all the engines!

Hey, didn't I read somewhere that can
seriously affect your ability to fly?

Now we've lost the midsection
and the kitchen.

I'm sorry, everyone, but we may have
to have sandwiches for lunch.

There is a pulse. But maybe I should
give her the kiss of life

just to be on the safe side.

Isn't the kiss of life
for drowning, sir?

"Isn't the kiss of life for drowning,
sir?" You little nitpicker.

- Is everyone okay?
- Well, I'm not. I'm really frustrated.

The Cat, sir, come quickly.
He looks terrible.

Your eyes need a major service, bud.

Let's get him out of here
before the whole thing goes up.

- Dave?
- Selby. Chen.

Is it really you?

Is it really us? Hang on, I'll check.
Yeah, I think it's us.

Guys, this is brilliant.
I can't believe it.

- You know these people, sir?
- Know them?

When they've been drunk and unconscious,

I've taken their clothes off
and painted parts of them green.

Of course I know them.
This is the Red Dwarf crew, Krytie.

How?

The nanos must have resurrected them
along with the ship.

This is Chen.

He works in the kitchen.
He's always drunk.

And this is Selby.
And he's always drunk, too.

- Where's Petersen?
- Couldn't make it. He's drunk.

The crew are all alive, sir.
This is great news.

Wonderful, marvellous, incredible news.

All that extra ironing. Bliss.

Mr Thornton, read them their rights.

David Lister, you are formally charged
with stealing and crashing a Starbug.

You're also charged
with having no pilot's licence

and smuggling two stowaways on board

along with Navigation Officer
Kristine Kochanski.

Anything you say now or do not say now

may be used in
a Board of Enquiry against you.

Do you require any form of aid?

Yeah, lemonade
and a really large scotch.

Left, right! Left, right!
Left, right! Left, right!

Try and relax. You're gonna burst
a blood vessel.

Shut up, you maggot!

- You understand? Do you understand?
- Yes.

- Yes, what?
- Yes, Mr Shouty.

Yes, sir!

Left, right. Left, right.
Left, right. Halt!

Left arm.

At ease.

All right, dude?

They don't know about you yet, Hol.
It might be an idea to keep it that way.

I need some info.

If the Board of Enquiry find us guilty
tomorrow, what happens then?

Well, they'll probably have
a pot of tea,

bit of a chat and go home, I suppose.

What happens to us, you divvy?
Not them.

Well, if you lose, you'll probably get
a couple of years in the brig.

- What brig?
- The brig on Floor 13.

- There isn't a Floor 13.
- Yeah, there is. It was classified.

- A need-to-know only basis.
- So who knew?

Well, all the officers and anyone
who's ever seen The Twilight Zone.

So what's it like, this brig?

Well, if I was an estate agent,

I'd probably describe it
as an old-style penal establishment,

abundant wildlife, 200 bedrooms,
all with en suite buckets.

Smegging hell.

They call it the Tank.
There was an inmate population of 400,

all being transported to Adelphi 12.

Presumably they've all
been resurrected, too.

What are they like?
No, don't tell me. I already know.

They're all deranged, hairy no-lobes

with breath like old nappies, arms like
toilet walls, scum of the universe.

They're all like that, aren't they?

Well, the nice ones are, yeah.

Hang on, I've got one of them
on file somewhere.

Here we go.

I'm Nigel. I'm nice.

See what I mean?
They're not all headbangers.

Nige is lovely,

though he does tend to get a bit narky

If you go too close to him
with a magnet.

Thanks very much, Hol.
You're really cheering me up.

The brig.

Two years.

Two years without curry and lager.

Two years without sex.

You hope.

Rimmer.

Word's out they're going
to throw the book at you, Listy.

Followed by the bookcase
and then the library, brick by brick.

God, it's you like you used to be.

What got into you?
You can't fly a Starbug, my laddo.

You're a technician. A zero. A nobody.

Look, this is gonna sound nuts,

but the whole crew died, including you.

And you've all been resurrected
by these microscopic little robots.

- I died?
- Yeah.

- All the crew died?
- Yeah.

And you're going to spend
the next two years

in the brig with a load of Neanderthals
with badly spelt tattoos?

So where are we? Is this my heaven?

Look, a radiation leak wiped everybody
out. I survived 'cause I was in stasis.

Then these nanos arrived,
rebuilt the ship,

and resurrected the crew.

- So where are they?
- Don't know. Gone. Scarpered.

Maybe I should take the fifth?

The fifth? If I were you, I'd take
the sixth, seventh and eighth, too.

I gotta track these nanos
to corroborate our story.

Otherwise who's going to believe
our defence?

Only meths drinkers
and the Corn Circle Society.

- Look, I need your help, man.
- Me?

Who else is going to help me?
I'm confined to quarters.

The minute I walk through that door,

I get enough wattage up me jacksie
to light up the whole of Bootle.

Well, considering what the future has
in store for your jacksie,

a couple of zillion volts
is going to be easy street.

Why have the nanobots done this,
put us in this situation?

In the past they've
only ever done things

which have ultimately benefited us.

We should take comfort in that.

- Like what?
- Like when they first stole Red Dwarf

and took us on a merry goose chase
halfway around the galaxy.

They led us to Legion, where Mr Rimmer
acquired a hardlight body.

Benefit.

And then they took us back to Red Dwarf
and rebooted Holly.

Benefit.

And after that, they led you
to the temporal rip where you met me.

(TOILET FLUSHING)

What's this rumour that we're three
million light years into deep space

and Red Dwarf's changed shape?

That is classified information, Karen.

Who the hell told you that?

- The coffee machine on G deck.
- That damn coffee machine.

I'm going to bust his ass down
to tampon dispenser.

Is it true?

Until we get Holly back up,
we can't verify it.

Starbug took out one of his CPU banks
in the crash

and we're having trouble rebooting.

The coffee machine said the ship's now
identical to its original design plans,

before the JMC made all its cutbacks.

We now have a quark-level
matter anti-matter generator,

ship-wide bio-organic
computer networking

and a karaoke bar on C deck.

But how?

And how did we wind up in deep space?

Nobody knows.

We don't believe this one's human.
Take a look at this.

- Has he got the measles?
- Those are his nipples, Frank.

Six nipples? I wonder what the female
of the species is like?

Pretty easy to please in bed.

Especially if you play the piano.

- His internal organs are different, too.
- In what way?

Well, his kidney, liver, appendix
are all colour coordinated.

And even weirder, his stomach wall
appears to be decorated.

This guy's intestines
look better than my quarters.

His heartbeat's weird, too.

Instead of a normal heartbeat,
his sounds...

cooler.

You think I'm going to have
the dorky human heartbeat?

(IMITATING HEARTBEAT)

Where's the tune in that?

Let me hear it.

(RHYTHMICAL HEARTBEAT)

Also, his pulse is a different rhythm.

(SAMBA STYLE RHYTHM)

Oh, that's good.
Can you slam that down on tape for me?

Rimmer, I'm begging you, man,
help me escape.

I've got to track down these nanobots.

I'm not risking my career in standing
for you, Listy. I'm going places!

Up the ziggurat, lickety-split.

Up the ziggurat, lickety-split,
precisely.

- I'm going to pass the engineering exam.
- And become an officer.

And become an officer, yes. An officer.

A guy of honour, decency and breeding.

You saying I haven't
got those qualities?

Generally, people with breeding,

when they're bored and want my bridge
club chums to wrap up and go home,

people with breeding, generally,
do not play Popeye the Sailor Man

with a kazoo inserted
between their buttocks.

I remember that.

I used to do that sort of thing,
didn't I?

And while we're on the subject,
when someone's had a tad too much claret

and has fallen asleep naked
on their bunk,

people of honour generally don't take
a Polaroid of your snoozing todger,

draw a moustache,
mouth and ears on it...

and then pin it up on the bulletin board
under "missing persons".

They don't write underneath,
"Have you seen this man?

"Believed to be a French movie star."

As if your todger
with a couple of eyes drawn on it

would look like a French movie star.

Way too good-looking.

Don't expect help from me, Lister.

- But that was years ago.
- It was last week!

Yeah, last week for you
‘cause you've just been resurrected.

Years ago for me.
And anyway, I was whirlitzered then.

I'd even finished off the advocaat.

I even downed that smeg-awful pink stuff
at the back of the drinks cabinet.

That was my Windolene.

I must have left it there
when I was cleaning the glass.

It tasted all right with that chartreuse
green liquery thing in it.

You drank my Swarfega, too?

You're unbelievable.

Look, I've changed, I'm different now.
More mature, more debonair.

I don't even stir me tea
with a spanner anymore.

You'd hardly recognise me.

- Have you stopped playing the guitar?
- No.

But I've stopped accompanying
myself on me armpit.

What I'm trying to say is I don't have

to take my frustrations out
on you anymore.

- How's that?
- Well, I've been away.

What is it? Five, six years,
not counting stasis.

I've done stuff. Stuff that would make
your hair straight.

I've come through it.

- I can help you.
- Do what?

Get promoted.

Preposterous!

- How?
- Information.

I've seen
the crew's confidential reports.

I've seen their strengths
and weaknesses.

How?

Well, before you were resurrected,
I had the run of the whole of the ship.

I've seen the crew's files,
medical records,

sessions with the therapist, the works.

Knowledge is power. Who said that?

I don't know.

Nor do I.

The point I'm trying to make is,
I can make you look like a genius.

You can get promoted in the field, man.
You won't have to take exams.

Do that astro-engineering smeg.

Just help me escape.

I have my principles, Lister.

You think you can buy me
with promises of power and glory?

You really think.... Okay, I'll do it.

But you'll have to prove it to me first.

You're on.

Get me promoted.

- You've got it.
- Okay, deal.

You'll find the confidential files
in Starbug's cockpit.

There's a senile version of Holly
loaded into this watch.

He'll lead you to it.

Hello, I'm Dr Lucas McClaren, I am
the ship's chief psychiatric counsellor

and I thought it was about time we got
together and had a really good natter.

- My name is Kryten, sir.
- Lovely.

We are doing well, aren't we?

Now, you're a robot, aren't you?

I was the last time I looked, sir, yes.

And can you tell me when you were
created? Can you remember?

2340, sir.

Very good, 2340.

Now, that's in the future, isn't it?

Yes, sir, I was created after you died.

Lovely. Lovely.

So, I died, and you were created.

And how long would you say
I've been dead, altogether?

You're not dead anymore, sir.

Aren't I?

No, no, you're alive again now, sir.
Can't you tell?

Right, so I was alive, died,

and then started living again.

- You've been most fortunate, sir!
- I have, haven't I?

Golly. Your chair is screwed down,
isn't it, Kryten?

Yes, sir.

Just checking.
Excellent, lovely, lovely.

So...

how did I suddenly
spring back to life again?

You were rebuilt, sir,

by these itty-bitty, teeny-weeny,
teenty little robots.

Teenty little robots?

And they make this little noise.

(IMITATING HIGH-PITCHED BEEPING)

Yes, just double-check that chair
for me, would you, Kryten?

- It is still screwed down, isn't it?
- Yes, sir.

With really long, long screws that go
deep, deep into the ground?

Yes, sir.

Now, tell me,
what kind of robot do you think you are?

What were you programmed to do?

Well, I'm a sanitation droid, sir.

I'm programmed to do sanitation-type
things, washing, cleaning, ironing.

You also drive spaceships,
though, don't you?

Pretend to be the science officer
and sit in that lovely, swivelly chair

with all those lovely,
pretty buttons and press them all?

Yes, I do that, too, sir.
That's sort of thanks to Mr Lister.

- Mr Lister?
- Yes.

He helped me break my programming, sir.

Over the years,
I have managed to develop

some serious character faults
of which I'm extremely proud.

I'm even able to lie
to a modest standard.

For example,
you have a very fine haircut.

You see how good I've got?

Also, I've completely
mastered pomposity,

even though I say so myself.

I've also developed several rudimentary
emotions, including fear,

"Oh, my God! It's going to kill us!"

Sadness, "Oh, my God, it's killed us."

Happiness, "Oh, no, it hasn't!"

Surprise, "Ooh, I've turned
into a frog!"

And just lately, I'm proud to say
I've got the hang of anger

with rudimentary mindless violence.

That's a newie.

I was going to launch it
at this year's Emotion Show.

At the moment,
I'm working on ambivalence,

which means feeling two opposite,

irreconcilable emotions
about the same thing.

As you can see, I haven't quite got
the hang of that one yet.

I look like a dog with a caramel toffee.

What is your relationship with Lister?

I love Mr Lister, sir.
He taught me everything.

Without him, I'd probably be normal.

I'm going to make a recommendation now,
Kryten, which I think will help you.

But just before I do, just double-check
that chair for me, would you?

Yes!

Luck virus, sexual magnetism?

Holly, what's this?

Dave got them years ago from
this scientist called Lanstrom.

They're positive viruses.
One gives you sexual magnetism

and the other gives you luck.

Well, till your natural body defences
combat the virus.

Sexual magnetism.

You gonna use it?

Is Paris a kind of plaster?
You bet I am!

A tiny swigette to see if it works.

Well, bottoms up.

Then bottoms down,
and hopefully bottoms up again.

ALL: Hi.

Ladies.

- Hi, Arnold.
- Hi, Arnold.

The world loves a bastard.

One day in this lousy, stinking
penal colony and I'm cracking up.

Everyone's so deranged and brutal.
It's frightening.

This afternoon, I was so depressed
I went to see the social worker.

- Was he any help?
- Not really. He beat me up.

He said I was a whining nancy boy
with girly white legs.

Then pummelled me repeatedly
with his book,

Showing Compassion To Inmates.

I thought social workers
were supposed to be nice.

In the end I was so shell-shocked,

I went to see the priest
and explained everything.

What did he say?

He said I was a whining baby
who was missing his mum.

Then he beat me up, too.

You can still see the crucifix marks
on the back of my head.

It's ‘cause we're in G tower.
All the staff are mad here.

One of the guys was saying, though,
as a reward for good behaviour,

they move you to the luxury block on
D wing. Everything's really nice there.

They even shampoo the rats.

Groom the tails and everything.

I must look it up in
my Michelin Guide to Penal Hellholes.

I'm sure it probably gets
the full five slop-out buckets.

They've got everything.
TVs, music centres.

They've even got a trouser press.

Since when were you interested
in a trouser press?

You care less about your appearance
than a member of the Dutch royal family.

No, I was thinking that if we got moved
to a cell with a trouser press,

we could make cheese toasties.

What's this?

"Floor 13 Information Pack. If privacy
is required when using toilet,

"please wear blindfold."

What's the book?

Gideon's Bible.

He follows me everywhere that bloke.

I was staying in a hotel once,
he left his Bible behind there as well.

Then two years later, another hotel,
dozy git left it behind again.

Everything is ruined.

My career's over.
I've no goal, no hope, no life.

Yeah, but how come
that's started to get you down now?

Maybe you hadn't noticed,
but we're gonna spend

the next two years in the brig.

Two years with the scum of the universe,
hardened criminals, deranged droids.

People so unbalanced and debauched
they couldn't even get elected

as President of the United States.

We've got to escape.

No. There's security cameras everywhere.

You know that mad geezer
with the one eye and the funny tick?

He said it was impossible.

Well, he's bound to say that.
He was the warden.

If only I'd hired a smarter lawyer

instead of the braindead, pompous,
stupid-haired git I ended up with.

You defended yourself.

Yes. And I don't need reminding of that,
thank you very much.

Two years in the tank.

Two years.

How did I get into this mess?

I think the blindfold's
supposed to be for me.

My captain, sir.

Rimmer, is this salute
ever going to end?

Do I have time to go for a cup
of coffee? Maybe go on vacation?

Nearly finished, sir.

It's my very special, extra-long salute

I reserve for
the especially important, sir.

You wanted to see me?

I'm concerned over some of
the safety procedures on board, sir.

There's a potentially lethal scenario
concerning drive plates, sir.

Obviously, anyone who misrepaired
one of these plates

would have to have a brain
the size of a leprechaun's testicle.

Nevertheless, sir, like German tourists,
the stupid are everywhere.

I propose the following new
safety procedures, sir.

Did you really think of this?

Permission to look smug, sir.

Permission granted.

Good work, Rimmer. Great work.

Oh, before I go, sir.
Happy wedding anniversary, sir.

I'm sure you must be
missing her terribly.

A blueberry muffin...

like Martha used to make.

Thanks, Rimmer, I....

Dismissed.

Sir, just one more thing.

I know the medical guys
think we've run out of this stuff

but I discovered a couple of
unopened medi-crates in storage, sir.

If this is useful to you in any way,
it's yours, no questions asked.

"Anus Soothe Pile Cream.

"The easy-to-apply cream
that comes with its own special glove."

One size fits all.

I could tell from your walk.

Rimmer...

could you post this for me?

Why, certainly, sir.

Oh, it's addressed to me, sir.

I'm giving a supper for some of the guys
that I've marked out for greater things.

And you want me to be
the wine waiter, sir?

This report is first-rate.
Now, I want you to come to supper.

See you on Friday.

Incidentally, it's black tie.

Thai, Chinese, I'll eat anything, sir.

Though I would prefer it
if it wasn't black.

Any chance of having mine
medium-rare, sir?

Just go! Wear what the hell you want.

Get undressed.

Fill this up behind the screen.

Kryten, hi.

What are you doing here?

What's wrong?

I've been classified as a woman.

A woman? Why?

Well, because I haven't got a...

penis.

It's a Space Corps directive
to prevent gender ambiguity in jail.

What's the saying? If you've got nothing
to swing, you can't be with Bing.

Well, what happened? Did you lose it?

I was never issued with one, ma'am.

Well, why would I need one?
Unless somehow I lost both arms

there was an emergency situation
to write my name in the snow.

So, you mean, you've never had
a steak pie, peas and chips, then?

I think the phrase is
"meat and two veg”, ma'am.

No, the only mechanoids
that were ever issued with genitals

were the ones created to work
on Italian starships.

It was felt they could
acclimatise themselves better

if they could mimic
their Italian crewmates

and stand around
cupping themselves all day.

Hey, now you're a woman, it's gonna mean
some big changes in the way you behave.

I'm not going to be a woman for long,
ma'am. Just overnight.

They want my permission to repair
my corrupted files tomorrow afternoon.

Restore my factory settings!

But your corrupted files
are what make you you.

I've been diagnosed as being
quirky and unstable.

Spin my nipple nuts and send me
to Alaska! Quirky?

How could they
reach a verdict like that?

And as for unstable, it makes me so....

Darn it, I still haven't
got the hang of that emotion, have I?

- What was it supposed to be?
- Ambivalence.

Didn't come out right, though, did it?

I looked like Mr Lister
when he's forced to eat fruit.

What are you going to do?

I have to go along with them, ma'am.
I can't say no, they are my superiors.

- You've got to say no.
- I can't.

They're better than me.
I'm not strong enough.

Right, here's a tip.
If you get scared tomorrow,

just imagine what they look like
on the loo.

- Can you see them?
- No, I....

Oh!

Yes, I can.

- Do they still seem better than you?
- No, ma'am.

- Do they still seem superior?
- No, ma'am.

That's what you've got to do tomorrow.
Just recreate that picture.

- It works for everyone.
- Yes!

- Who are you looking at now?
- You, ma'am.

Why did the nanos land us in this mess?
That's what I want to know.

They must have contracted
some form of virus.

- Hence all the mistakes.
- Mistakes?

Yeah, lots of weird background errors.
Like the shape of the ship's different.

Even my quarters aren't the same.

I've even got clean socks in me
sock drawer. It's just so unrealistic.

Spooky.

So what happens now?

The Board of Enquiry will say
if we're fit to stand trial.

In a trial, all you got to do
is sit there.

How fit do you have to be?

I don't want to sound wet or anything.

Look out, moisture alert.

And just because I've got
a cuddly dinosaur nightie-holder

and matching pencil case

doesn't mean to say I'm not hard, okay?
Because I am hard.

In fact, I could have joined
the Space Marines

if the rules had been different
about taking moisturiser on manoeuvres.

So, although I'm hard, and that,
I think, is pretty well established,

erm, despite all that hardness...

the thought of going to jail...

is like.... Oh, God!

- It's gonna be okay.
- No, it's not going to be okay.

It's going to be polyester sheets
and carbolic soap

and lousy school-dinners-type cooking.

And I bet you anything
they only have German wine.

In prison, ma'am,
I don't think they have any wine at all.

No wine at all?

Isn't that against
the Geneva Convention?

Oh, my God, I'm not gonna cope.

I'm gonna be like that Scots bloke
in that prisoner of war film

who just goes all screwy
and just bolts for the perimeter fence

and starts climbing it and then....

Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat,
rat-a-tat-tat!

He started tap dancing?

Boy, he really must have gone screwy.

They shot him.

All because he did a tap dance?

That's inhuman.

Be upstanding.

Just relax, Rimmer's gonna
help us escape.

This enquiry's a piece of cake,
we're just going through the motions.

All right, sit down.

Let's get this enquiry under way.

You have refused defence assistance,
is that right?

Okay, this is what we do.

I've watched a lot of TV shows
and we all huddle together like this

and whisper for a while
before we answer.

It looks like we know what we're doing.

We intend to defend ourselves.

You see how good that looked?

We've evaluated
all the psychological reports

and it's the finding of this enquiry
that you all are fit to stand trial.

Except maybe him
but we're going with it anyway.

Are you familiar with the mind scan?

Keep huddling, keep huddling. This is
looking so damn good, it's untrue.

Just one thing.

Can anyone remember the question
we're supposed to be huddling?

I believe it was, "Are you familiar
with the mind scan?" sir.

Nice one, bud.

One last thing, and only
the best lawyers know this trick.

The next time he talks,
I'll make a note,

slide it across to you guys
and you look really, really impressed.

Morale-wise, it slays them.

We are familiar with the mind scan, sir.

You are aware that
it pictorially enhances

the cognitive process,

making your innermost thoughts available

for recording and viewing
to a board of enquiry?

Yes, sir.

You understand that it will involve the
administration of psychotropic drugs?

That is, drugs which affect
your mental state,

making this process possible.

If you accept, say "aye".

ALL: Aye.

Please sign the consent forms

and seal them into
the envelopes provided.

We reconvene at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow.

I was hoping to get a manicure
and a leg wax tomorrow.

How about Thursday?

Tomorrow.

Okay. But if there's a round where
we have to give evidence in swimsuits,

I'm out of here.

The plan's working, Listy.

Operation Get Rimmer Officerhood,
Power and Eminence,

or GROPE for short,

is bang on course.

So that information I gave you
on the drive plates worked, then? Yes.

The captain's face.

He couldn't have been happier
if I'd given him two girls

wrestling in a giant vat of baked beans

then removed the girls
and handed him a spoon.

He's never been so pleased.

And get this, he's invited me to supper
with the movers and the shakers.

The movers and the shakers?

You're going to supper
with some removal men

and a group of people
suffering from Parkinson's disease?

At last I'll be able to exorcise
my father's disapproval.

Those terrible, sneery looks
he used to give me

as he stood on the touchline watching me
captain the school's skipping team.

He was never proud of me.

What other father would claim to have
an alibi for his sperm

on the night of conception?

Who cares now? Not me, Listy.

I'm on my way, up the ziggurat,
lickety-split.

Well, don't forget
your part of the deal.

The override code for this
so I can leg it.

It's too soon. I'm not an officer yet.

The trial begins tomorrow, man.

Without the nanobots, our defence
has got more holes than my socks.

But once you've legged it,
where does that leave me?

I'm not helping you escape
and losing all my insider knowledge.

I'm not an officer yet.

Whoa! We shook hands on a deal.

Yeah, but, Lister, you know me.

My handshake's less reliable
than a plumber's estimate.

No escape-o, no more info.

Listy, it's not going to help you.

I've got the confidential files.

Plus, I went through Starbug's salvage
and I found these.

The luck virus. Sexual magnetism.

Positive viruses.
Holly told me everything.

Take some of this, it gives you luck.

And this gives you sexual magnetism.

I've already tried some.

Right now, Yvonne McGruder

is sleeping off the first 23 pages
of the Kama Sutra.

So, you reneged on the deal, then?
Breaking your promise,

being a total scum-sucking,
two-faced, weaselly weasel.

Ah, my entry in Who's Who.

You left some of your luck behind, man.
I touched the tube.

Sheer luck.

Yes.

You may, if you prefer,
stand with the others tomorrow

and face the charges against you.

However, I advise that you have
your corrupted files repaired,

after which you may go free.

What is your decision?

Oh, it's no good.

Okay, let's all stay calm.
No need to be alarmed.

After all, Kryten is merely
holding us hostage,

which is lovely, isn't it, everyone?

- Lovely.
- We don't want any trouble.

We'll just do what you say.

Come on, then. Come with me.

KRYTEN: Come along, inside, inside.
That's it.

Go on, all of you, quick, quick, quick.

Here we go, that's it.

Now, I want you to take down your pants
and sit on a toilet.

Oh, my God, he's mad!

Then what are you going to do to us?

I'm going to look at you.

He's totally mad!

Just do what he says.

Lovely.

(KRYTEN LAUGHING)

Now, I want you to ask me
the question again.

What question?

Do I want to have
my corrupted files repaired?

Do you want to have
your corrupted files repaired?

No. I did it.

No. No, I don't.

The answer to the question is no.

No doubt about it, I do not want
to have my corrupted files repaired.

The answer is no.

And you just put in any old code
you felt like

and the luck virus made you pick
the right one? That's brilliant.

Yeah, just rubbed me finger
over the top of the tube.

That's brilliant. That's just brilliant.

Ah, it's a pity you didn't do the same
with the sexual magnetism.

Is that a new shirt?

No, I've had it a while.

- Oh, it's really nice.
- Thanks.

It's really, really nice.
Really suits you.

Thanks.

Brings out the brownness
in your eyes.

Oh, God, Dave! I'm so sorry!

Oh. I don't know what happened there.

I think I do. I had some sexual
magnetism virus on this hand.

But the luck virus cured it for me.
Thanks, pal!

I don't know what got into me.

Well, nothing, sadly.

Hello, I'm the Data Doctor.

If you would like me to examine
your hard disc, press "examine".

Your mechanoid appears to have developed
the following rogue emotions....

If you wish to eradicate these emotions
from his database, press "fix".

All bad line blocks and corrupted
personality discs have now been fixed.

Please reboot your mechanoid.

His personality has now been restored
to its factory settings.

My name is Kryten. I am programmed
to serve. Can I be of service?

- Bring me a coffee, please, Kryten.
- Certainly, ma'am.

- Then you may scrub the floor.
- Yes, ma‘am.

Are you happy, Kryten?

I have no understanding
of human emotions, ma'am.

I am programmed to serve.

Excellent.

I'm going to be Colin Charisma
at the captain's supper with this stuff.

ALL: Hi!

- Hi.
- Hi.

And if we approach light speed,

I think we have to be aware
we could come across something

I believe we'll experience
called future echoes.

Episodes and pockets of futurey things.

- From the future.
- Fascinating.

What a fascinating man you are,
Mr Rimmer.

I think we've greatly underestimated you
over the years, Arnold.

Now, let me find out
where that coffee is.

Oh, no, Captain, please. Allow me.

Perhaps you could help me, Mr Rimmer?

Why, certainly. And perhaps we can talk
about my theory on backwards universes.

And, of course, in a backwards universe,
many things start to make more sense.

Oh, my God, you are sexy.
So very, very sexy.

Bravo, bud. What now?

Well, we find Kryten,
get to the landing bay,

grab a ship
and get the hell out of town.

He's on this floor.

Here he is.

Krytie, come on.

Are you addressing me, sir?
I don't believe we've had the pleasure.

What have they done to you, Kryten?

You sound like Noel Coward's
elocution teacher.

Well, if you'll forgive me, sir,
I have my duties to perform. Good day.

Oh, they fixed all his corrupted files.
He mustn't have been able to say no.

Someone's coming.

- We've got to get a better disguise.
- We already got a disguise.

What's the point of a disguise
if you wear it under your normal outfit?

A grey boiler suit? You think I'm going
to wear this on the outside?

Look, we're not leaving without him.

I don't care what they've done to him,
he's coming with us.

He's part of the posse.

Hey, I got a great idea
for a new disguise.

What?

The Dibbley family!

Yes!

Ah!

There you are.

Any news on the coffee?

Drat. We forgot.

I'll find out right away, sir.

I'll give you a hand, Mr Rimmer.

Sorry to interrupt, sir.

But we're searching this floor
for the escaped prisoners.

Sorry, we haven't seen them.
Just me, my wife here and my brother.

- Hello.
- Hi.

Hi.

I don't recollect seeing
you guys before.

That's because we don't go out much
looking like this.

What do you guys do?

Computer programmers.

Well, if you see anything suspicious,
call security, okay?

Oh, you bet.

Begging your pardon, sirs,
I just need to get a mop.

How peculiar, my mop heads are missing.

Oh, don't I know you, sir?

Wayne. Wayne something.

Wayne Wibbley. Where do I know you from?

No, no, sir, you're mistaken.

You're mixing me up
with some other big-teeth dork.

No, let him speak.
Where do you know him from?

Are you out of your mind?

Shh. Where do you know him from? Think.

I feel I'm about to discover
something wonderful,

but when I discover it,
it will put someone in great danger.

I feel an emotion. I feel two emotions.

Two different emotions.
I feel.... I feel....

Ambivalence?

I can feel my files corrupting.
They're corrupting. I....

Oh, yes, that's good.

I'm back and I'm bad. Obviously, within
certain sensible preset parameters.

HOLLY: (ON SPEAKER)
Attention, attention.

Reported prisoner sighting on C deck.
Reported prisoner sighting on C deck.

Nice one, Hol.

What's wrong with you?

Well, do you get the impression
this is too easy?

Like, everything's going for us?

Like they almost want us to escape.

Hey. I was just thinking aloud.

No, no, the luck virus. It's helping us.

Put your kit on.

Here we are.
Remembered the coffee at last.

What about the mints?

I'll go.

Would you like to help me, Mr Rimmer?

It's just, I've got so much coffee,

I don't think I can manage
to get any mints until tomorrow.

Well, the psychotropic testing should be
well underway by now.

Those results sure are
gonna be interesting.

Psychotropic what?

The Lister case is so unusual

that I decided to invoke my right
to use psychotropic evidence.

The accused are drugged,
wired to a mainframe,

then the computer feeds
in various hypothetical scenarios

and their reactions
are laid down on tape.

Right now,
they believe they're escaping,

but we just want to observe
what they do.

So that means
that if anyone happens to mention any...

special agreements
that they've entered into then....

Could you excuse me?
I think I've left the iron on.

- Hi.
- Hello.

What is wrong with me? I've got
the sexual appetite of a mountain lion.

No, worse, a first-year nursing student.

It's just being wanted,
it's such an aphrodisiac.

Got to get some control back.

Hi.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Never realised you were so damn popular
with the ladies.

Maybe you can share
your secret sometime?

Yes, sir.

(LITTLE GREEN BAG PLAYING)

(MECHANICAL BEEPING)

Guys, it's Bob and Madge.

Go on, shoo, guys. Shoo. Go on.

We're trying to escape, but you'll never
get past security so go on! Go on!

MAN: (ON SPEAKER) 7 minus 18 seconds
and counting. Engines start.

WOMAN: (ON SPEAKER)
This is Ground Control to Midget 3.

You don't appear to have
flight clearance.

Please state your name
and clearance code.

- Ground Control, this is....
- Major Tom.

Yeah, Major Tom.

Major Tom, what is your clearance code
and pilot number?

I'm sorry, I left all my details
in my other pants.

I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.

Wow!

Without take-off clearance,
I can't permit you to fly.

I can handle this thing okay. I'm good.

I'm better than good.
I'm smooth with a capital smoo.

Well, that's as may be,
but I need a little proof

that you can fly that thing.

Fly? I can make this thing dance.

(CRASHING)

Wow.

- You free Saturday?
- I am now.

Holy-shmoly! I got a date
in three days' time.

I better start getting ready.

You're going nowhere, man.
We are out of here.

Thornton?

No one's allowed in there, Rimmer.
Beat it.

Angus Thornton, age 36,
middle name Lionel.

Inside leg measurement, 29.
Neck size, 16. Circumcised.

- How do you know all this?
- Jazz fan.

Good credit rating.

Once admitted to hospital totally naked
and attached to...

(WHISPERING) the suction end
of a vacuum cleaner.

That's a vicious, slanderous, filthy,

stinking, slanderous lie
that you just made up.

Who told you?

Want all the crew to know?

Take a cigarette break. Five minutes.

Okay, I'm going, okay?

I'm lighting up already. I'm going.

Now all we've got to do
is get a bearing on those damn nanos

and we're cruising down
Freedom Boulevard.

- Getting something now, sir.
- Good.

We didn't need that confidential files
scam I cooked up with Rimmer after all.

All that stuff I gave him
on the captain.

Double-dealing, two-faced rat.

Find all references

to the agreement between
Lister and Rimmer and remove.

All references removed.

What was that?

- Something weird just happened.
- Yeah, I felt it, too.

There it was again.

- And again.
- Oh, my.

What is it?

I don't believe I'm here.

I have that feeling all the time.

I have it. I believe we're in
some kind of computer-manipulated,

psychotropically-induced mind state.

You took the words
right out of my mouth.

You mean, this is our trial?
Our escape is our trial?

The envelopes.

When we signed the consent forms,

there must have been some kind of drug
on the gluey bit we licked.

So you mean nothing's been real
since then? Blue Midget?

The ground controller?
None of that was real?

You mean after all this,
I still haven't got a date?

Damn!

Another year when I have to send
a valentine card to my hand.

No, this is good. This is good.
It proves we're innocent.

Everything we've said and done,
escaping,

trying to track down the nanos,

it corroborates our story.

But you are guilty, guys.
Who are you fooling?

I don't know why I said that.

We're being framed.

Wait a minute, what's happening?
I just said "We're being framed,"

and suddenly...

It just happened again.

- Everything we say is being....
- Bananas.

If I say who I think's responsible
for this, it'll get cut, too.

So I'm not going to, but it's him.

I know it's him, you can bet on it.
And if I ever catch up with him,

I'm gonna cut off both his b...
blunt knife.

So how do we stop him?

If we're plugged into AR software,
there must be a trapdoor

built into the program somewhere
to allow escape.

You mean to help you get out
if the program freezes?

Precisely. There'll be a cryptic clue
around somewhere.

Something like a trapdoor or exit.

I got it!

There's a button here with
"E-11-T" on it.

And?

11 is XI in Roman numerals.

E-XI-T. Exit.

He got that?

I think it proves without a shadow
of a doubt this is not reality.

Press it.

Now where are we?

Well, somehow,
we've wound up in the screensaver.

We need to locate a power source
so we can switch the AR machine off.

Power source? AR?

There has to be a clue
round here somewhere.

Maybe it's in this ice hole.

There's some food in here.

So?

Including a bottle of ketchup.

So?

Power ketchup. Get it?

What's to get?

Power sauce!

Pity he's only smart
when he's made out of Plasticine.

Press it.

You back-stabbing, weaselly smegger!

You were trying to frame us.

Listy. Just the man.

Now, I know at first glance
this may look bad.

God, he's gorgeous.

Oh, hold her back. Please, hold her.
Please, no more. No more.

Those nostrils, they're driving me
crazy. I've simply got to have him.

Hold her back, Kryten. Help me!

Mr Cat, sir, put the lift on hold.

I want his babies.

The luck virus, you've still got it.
Take some.

It'll cure the virus
and restore you both to normal.

Oh, God, that's so embarrassing.

- What now, Hol?
- No time to lose.

You should head for the nearest
one of these.

- You mean a moon?
- Exactly.

He's right. We can regroup there
and continue our search for the nanos.

What about me?

Well, I suggest we persuade you
to come with us, sir,

or failing that,
we bludgeon you unconscious.

Him come with us?
Are you out of your mind?

That's so dumb I should've said it.

Well, Mr Rimmer has had access
to the confidential files, sir.

He knows all the security codes.

Without him, our chances of escape

are about as remote as meeting
an interesting hairdresser called Kylie.

Why would I want to take off
with you lot?

What have you got to offer?

Well, I'm very good at laundry, sir.

I do a damn fine moon impression.

I'm so gorgeous, there's a six-month
waiting list for birds

to suddenly appear every time I am near.

And you know what they say, sir,

if you've got three good friends,
you're a rich man.

Only poor people say that.

Forget it,
he's not gonna change his mind.

He's right, time is of the essence.

The crew will know we're out of AR now

and are probably sending someone
to investigate.

So, what's it to be?

Look, if I leave, I'm always gonna be
a failure. The shame of it.

Every time I have a boiled egg,

knowing I don't even outrank
the toastie soldiers.

I want to be an officer,
a man of honour.

Officers aren't men of honour,
they're headcases.

Those induction pranks they play
when you qualify.

I've dreamt of that proud day
for years now,

as I wake up after the celebration party

and find my pubes are orange
and I'm handcuffed to a goat.

And most hilarious of all,

discovering someone's superglued me
to the rear of one of those rabbits

that whizzes round greyhound tracks.

Ah, those mad japes they play on you.

I can't miss all that.

Look, that's not gonna happen
for you now, man.

Just like it didn't happen
for the other Rimmer.

We're giving you a second chance at life

and an opportunity for you
to screw it up

in a new and original way.

You'll get your own seat in the cockpit

and you'll be in control of
at least five buttons.

Krytie, don't be pathetic.

He's hardly going to be impressed
at the prospect

of being in charge of a few buttons.

Five, you say?

No more vending machine maintenance.

No more getting heckled
by drinks dispensers.

That's five whole buttons?

A new start, a new life?

You'll wake up in the morning,
you'll want to leap out of bed.

Well, in your case, Mr Lister, sir,

that's because your sheets are covered
in pointy poppadum shards.

Tell me more about these buttons.
Are some illuminated?

What do you say, man? The old Rimmer
was a vital member of the team.

He performed essential functions
we've never replaced.

What did he do?

Don't know really.

He, erm.... He was, erm....

He was, erm....

Ah! Head of Safety.

Head of Safety?
That's a hell of a title.

But what did he actually do?

He sought out danger.

He sought out peril.

And then he'd advise us
the best way to run away from it.

Head of Safety, five buttons...

I'min.

He's in. Let's celebrate!

I'll crack open a bottle of cyanide.

This is ground control.

You don't appear
to have flight clearance.

You're the ground controller?

Please state your name
and clearance code.

Reality sucks.

Your name's Reality Sucks?

One second, Mr Sucks.

Just checking my clearance list.

Look, just do another smegging dance
and we'll get the hell out of here.

Dance? With her,
I'd have trouble walking.

Powering up.

Come back, Mr Sucks. Come back!

There's nothing on the scanners
for a 1,000-mile radius.

We're in the clear, guys.

Yes. Oh, yes.

- I don't believe we are, ma'am.
- What's up?

According to the supplies inventory,
we're frighteningly low on....

And everyone was so happy.
I can barely say it out loud.

What are we frighteningly low on?
Oxygen?

Worse. Fabric softener.

Suggest we chart a course
to the nearest derelict,

the SS Einstein, before everyone's
woollens get all bibbly-bobbly.

Einstein?

Wasn't he the dude
who discovered America?

Einstein discovered
the theory of relativity.

Where did he discover it?
Was it fossilised and stuff?

The theory of relativity is....

- What is the theory of relativity?
- Yeah, what is it, Hol?

Bit busy at the moment, Dave.

Just tell us what it is
in sort of simple layman's terms.

It's a theory.

Yeah, but what is it?

Oh, you want it more complicated
than that, do you?

- What does it mean?
- It's the theory of relativity.

You know, it's the theory
you only tell your relatives.

E=MC2.

But what does it mean, though?

E is energy.

Energy equals MC2.

That's M times C timesed by another C.

What's MC, though?

What?

- What is it? MC.
- MC?

Well, MC is obviously
Master of Ceremonies.

Energy equals
master of ceremonies squared.

He was very overrated, Einstein.

That's why he left quantum physics
and went into the look-alike business.

It's so sad.
Holly's supposed to have an IQ of 6,000.

Now I doubt he could even spell "IQ".

If I'm so stupid,
if I'm computer senile,

explain this, then.

Explain what?

You can't, can you?

Explain what?

It's no good stalling,
trying to buy time.

If I'm so stupid,
explain why I was able to recreate

a new set of nanobots

and get them to resurrect the crew.

- What?
- What?

I thought you'd be pleased.

But why?

My job is to keep Dave sane.

True, I'm not that good at it,
but I do my best.

That's why I create these little
diversions to keep him occupied.

But, Hol, we could have wound up
doing two years in the brig.

You still could.

I've just worked it out.

We're still in AR.

- What?
- What?

In computer jargon,
my plans have all gone tits up.

I was outthought and outmanoeuvred.

- Who by?
- By a superior intellect.

You mean the hand dryer in the
men's toilets has outsmarted you again?

No. By the other version of me.

The one on Red Dwarf.
This is still our trial.

Our trial? Why didn't you say?

If I'd have known, I'd have worn a tie.

Well, for me,
Lister's nanobot story is corroborated.

They were trying to track them down.

Their actions in the psychotropically-
induced scenario bear that out.

I agree, Frank.

I also believe we died
and were indeed resurrected.

Again, borne out by their actions.

So, original charges, all innocent.

But, it's equally apparent
that they used classified information

from the crew's confidential files
to their own ends.

I suspected Rimmer had access
the moment he walked into my office

and began acting
incredibly smart and knowledgeable.

What a giveaway.

That's why I got him to lick
one of the psychotropic envelopes

when I invited him to dinner.

So, abusing classified information,

that's a fresh charge.

And on that, they're all guilty.

That's a statutory sentence.

I know. Two years in the brig.

So instead of the original charge

and a possible sentence
of two years in the brig,

they've been found guilty
on another charge

and got an entirely different
two years in the brig.

That's gonna be a great comfort to them.

I'll bring them round
and break the news.

RIMMER: This is reality?

- But how can we be sure?
- Why do we care?

Nothing makes any sense
no matter where we are.

Look, everything was real
before we licked the envelopes, right?

Then we conked out
and got carted off to AR.

Before we licked anything....
Before we licked anything....

I lent you my Holly watch.

So, if this is reality,
I should still be wearing it.

Oh, yeah. This is reality all right.
I'd recognise it anywhere.

Also, sir, shouldn't you
have the viruses?

Again, you found them on Starbug
before we licked the envelopes.

The luck virus.

Maybe we can get out of this mess.

I'll have that.

The lab boys are gonna want
to run tests on it.

Where's the other one?

I'm afraid I lost it, sir.

Goddamnit, Rimmer! I wanted that!

I mean, the lab boys wanted it,
to test it, too. Damn.

- This is all your fault.
- My fault?

You betrayed us over
that confidential file scam.

Stole the sexual magnetism virus.

You lied to us.

And generally behaved like
a self-serving,

scum-sucking, ruthless little ratbag.

And that's bad?

HOLLISTER: (ON SPEAKER)
It is the finding of this enquiry

that you have been found guilty

of contravening Act 21
of the Space Federation.

Before sentencing,
you will have medicals

so you can be assigned
appropriate prison status.

I've buggered this up a bit haven't I?

Welcome to the tank.

# It's cold outside,
there's no kind of atmosphere

# I'm all alone, more or less

# Let me fly far away from here

# Fun, fun, fun

# In the sun, sun, sun

# I want to lie,
shipwrecked and comatose

# Drinking fresh mango juice

# Goldfish shoals, nibbling at my toes

# Fun, fun, fun

# In the sun, sun, sun

# Fun, fun, fun

# In the sun, sun, sun #