Original subtitles

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

(BLEEPING)

(WHIRRING)

Turn.

There's another. Circuit board epsilon 14598, Red Corridor 357.

-They're re-routed. -Turn.

And another. Circuit board theta 29555, Blue Corridor 212.

What's happening, guys? It's half ten. I thought we were playing poker?

Where have you been? Didn't you get the message?

-What message? -One of the scutters has gone bananas.

He's completely rewired the maintenance decks

back to front and upside down.

We've got over 2,000 wiring faults. Don't breathe. Don't touch anything.

-The whole ship's a gigantic booby trap. -No poker, then?

We can't find the auto-destruct system.

It's wired up to something, but we don't know what.

Tell the Cat.

It's taken me ages to mark these cards.

-So we can't touch anything? -Nothing electrical.

Not until we get the all clear.

-Well, how long's that gonna take? -God knows.

A milkshake and a crispy bar.

We're supposed to be playing poker tonight. That's gone for a Burton.

COMPUTER: Auto-destruct sequence initiated.

The ship will detonate in 15 minutes.

14 minutes, 55 seconds and counting.

That was a very dumb thing you just did there.

I wasn't thinking.

Red Dwarf will self-destruct in 74 minutes and 50 seconds.

Cancel. Clear.

Abandon ship. You have 13 minutes and 45 seconds to detonation.

-Cancel! -You have 12 minutes and 45 seconds...

-Cancel! -You have 10 minutes...

-Cancel! -You have nine minutes...

I said touch nothing. Didn't I say touch nothing?

Look, I just ordered a shake and a crispy bar.

You're lucky you didn't order a double cheeseburger!

Eight minutes, twenty seconds and counting.

How do we switch it off?

The only person who can override the auto-destruct is the captain.

-Dead. -Or one of the senior officers.

-Dead. -I suppose, in many ways,

I should have updated the system, really.

Is there any way that we can trick the machines

into thinking one of us is the captain?

No. It checks his voice print and brain scan against its data bank.

COMPUTER: Self-destruct in eight minutes, ten seconds and counting.

Think of something, please.

You're supposed to have an IQ of 6,000. Think of something.

I'm thinking.

COMPUTER: Self-destruct in eight minutes and counting.

-Well? -I've been through the whole

of my database, collated every single option,

and there are three realistic alternatives.

One, sit 'ere and get blown up.

Two, stand 'ere and get blown up.

Three, jump up and down, shout at me for not being able to think of anything,

then get blown up.

-There must be something. -Perhaps we could try a mind-swap.

It's something we tried once on the Nova 5.

It uses exactly the same science as generating a hologram.

We wipe all your brain patterns and put them on a storage disk.

Then we transfer the captain's mind

from his hologram Personality Disk into your empty brain.

-And you tried this on Nova 57 -Oh, yes.

-Did it work? -No.

But I'm pretty sure I know what went wrong.

COMPUTER:. Two minutes to self-destruct and counting.

So the captain's mind will be in my body?

Yes. Then, hopefully, the self-destruct mechanism will think you're the captain

and you can activate the override.

-But where will my mind be? -On this.

One minute, fifty seconds and counting.

We couldn't find the captain's disk. What about Brown?

Brown was executive officer.

Yeah. Brown's got clearance.

-Uh, Kryten, what's that for? -It's a mental emetic.

-A what? -A mind enema,

so we can flush out your brain.

Nobody's flushing out my brain.

We'll transfer it back afterwards.

You're not sticking that thing in my head!

One minute, forty seconds and counting.

-But we've got to. It's our only chance. -smeg off!

Look, man, I'm not asking you to do this just for me.

I'm asking... I'm pleading with you, I'm begging you,

do it for the sake of my suits.

Are you just gonna stand by and let my scarlet PVC morning suit

with the imitation king penguin fur collars get blown to smithereens?

Could you live with yourself?

One minute, thirty seconds and counting.

Look, Lister, I agree, it's a stupid idea.

It almost certainly won't work,

but the very worst that can happen, the absolute bottom line,

is that you'll have to spend the rest of your life

as a mindless, gibbering vegetable.

But, as the rest of your life is only going to be 30 seconds, what the hell?

Do it.

(DRILLING)

(RAPID BLEEPING)

Keep that safe. It's Lister's mind.

55 seconds to detonation.

(IN WOMAN'S VOICE) What's happening? What the hell is going on?

Sir, there's no time to explain, but by a bizarre series of accidents,

the ship's auto-destruct system has got switched on

and we need you to deactivate it.

Something's wrong. Something's different.

Wait a minute, I never used to be a man!

Thirty seconds and counting.

Look, you stupid woman, we'll explain later.

Why have I got male sexual organs?

If you don't override the auto-destruct system

within the next 20 seconds,

those male sexual organs will be in orbit around the nearest planet,

along with everyone else's organs, sexual or otherwise.

-Fifteen seconds to detonation. -Abort sequence X1X.

-Identify. -Carol Brown, Executive Officer,

security clearance 010101.

Pause for verification.

Verification rejected. Abort denied.

Auto-destruct sequence continued. Detonation in five seconds.

-Sen-smegging-sational. -Well done, freak face.

-Three... -What a brilliant, brilliant plan.

-Two... -Just great.

One. Initiate self-destruct.

Thank you for using Auto-Serve Dispensing Machines.

Number one in quality. Number one in taste.

What happened?

Must have been wired up to the warning system,

-but not the bomb. -So where's the bomb?

We haven't got a bomb.

-What? - I got rid of it ages ago.

-Why didn't you say? -You never asked.

Fine. Terrific! But remember this,

you're getting my underwear bill, buddy.

-You awake? -(IN NORMAL VOICE) Yeah, I can't sleep.

Probably those kippers you had for supper.

Nothing wrong with kippers for supper.

But kippers vindaloo.

It can't be good for you.

I mean, a curry every night, that cannot be good for you.

It's certainly no good for me.

I'm thinking of getting a canary in a cage.

-For what? -Check out the room.

See if it's safe for me to come in.

-Come on, I'm not that bad. -Not that bad?

You don't sweat sweat, you sweat madras sauce.

Why all the sudden interest in my diet?

It's not just your diet, Lister.

It's your health, in general.

Face facts. You eat crap, you don't exercise,

you smoke, you drink. And, frankly, it's beginning to show.

-I'm okay. -You're getting porky.

Porky?

Last week, when there was that lights failure in the engine room,

your silhouette was cast onto the wall.

I got the fright of my life.

I thought it was Alfred Hitchcock.

Are you saying I've got a gut?

You've got more gut than a Turkish butcher's shop window.

No, no, really, do you think I've put on weight?

You've reached that age, Listy.

When you're younger, you can eat what you like,

drink what you like

and still climb into your 26-inch-waist trousers and zip them closed.

Then you reach that age, 24, 25. Your muscles give up,

they wave a little, white flag,

and, without any warning at all, you're suddenly a fat bastard.

I'm not fat, I'm hunky!

Have you ever in dissection class held up a frog by its head?

You know the way its belly sort of sticks out

above its spindly little legs?

Well, that's the picture I see when you get down

from the bunk in the morning.

Oh, well, maybe you're right.

Yeah, I'm gonna start working out in the gym.

Of course, you could always...

-No, you'd never agree to it. -What?

We do a swap. My mind in your body, yours in mine.

You saw how easy it was with Brown.

Lend me your body for a few weeks, and I'll get it fit for you.

Plenty of exercise, sensible diet, no more booze, no more ciggies.

It'll be like a 12,000-mile service for your body.

What, and, in the meantime, I'm a hologram?

It won't be too bad if it's only for a couple of weeks.

You're talking as if it was a pair of hedge trimmers

or a lawnmower or something.

I'd give it you back. I'd return it intact.

More than intact, it'd be fitter.

Rimmer, you're not having possession of my body.

What are you worried about?

How can I treat it any worse than you do?

You admit you don't look after it,

don't exercise it, don't feed it properly.

I would. What do you say?

(IN LISTER'S VOICE) No welching.

(IN RIMMER'S VOICE) Of course not.

-A fortnight? -14 days.

-Two weeks? -Absolutely-dutely.

(HUMS MILITARY TUNE)

This hat is smegging stupid. I look like Captain Emerald.

-Holly, do something about it, man. -Okay, Dave.

Brutal.

What's this under his nails?

Oh, my God! I'm going to have this dirt carbon dated.

Mmm.

Luncheon, sir.

Ah! Food. Real food.

To eat, perchance to taste.

It's exactly as you ordered, sir. The lightly-poached Mimian bladder fish,

the four dozen oysters, the duck's feet in abalone sauce...

I can touch, I can taste, I can smell!

A roast suckling pig stuffed with chestnuts and truffles.

-Mmm! -Mashed potato.

-With cream and butter? -A pint of cream

and a full pound of butter, sir.

Let the orgy commence!

(GRUNTING)

(SLURPS)

How's the diet going?

Do you know something, I think I went temporarily insane.

It was just too much.

I haven't tasted food in three million and two years.

All that food. I was like an animal.

-I want me body back now. -Oh, it won't happen again.

It was just something I had to get out of my system.

My system. Why are you smoking?

-One cigar! -You're supposed to be getting me fit.

-I'll start tomorrow. -You better bleeding had do.

Hey! What are you doing dressed like that?

Why do you want to look like goalpost-head? Have you flipped?

Do you want to model yourself on a man who has ears so large

they can pick up satellite TV?

Why do you want to look like that smeghead Rimmer for?

Because...

(SCREECHES)

I am that smeghead Rimmer.

(LECHEROUS GROANING)

Please! These are supposed to be women?

G-Ross. Ah, this is what I call training.

That letter, that letter, that letter. There.

Hey, hey, hey! I've got you now, buddy!

J-0-Z-X-Y-Q-K.

-That's not a word. -It's a cat word.

-Jozxyqk? -That's not how you pronounce it.

-What's it mean? -It's the sound you make

when you get your sexual organs trapped in something. Jozxyqk!

-Is it in the dictionary? -It could be.

If you were reading in the nude and you closed the book too quick...

Jozxyqk!

Ah! What a session! What a workout! No pain, no gain, Listy.

On the scales. I want to weigh you.

There's no need. Look at that stomach.

Flat as a pancake. Hasn't been like that in years.

-Scales, please. -There's really no need.

On the scales!

-You've put on two stone! -Well, of course I've put on two stone.

I've been taking yeast extract, building up your body.

-Take the robe off. -What for?

Take it off.

I don't want you looking at my naked body.

-It's not your naked body, it's mine. -What's he hiding?

-Off with the robe. -Just let me say this...

Off!

What's wrong?

Oh, this? This is a hernia-prevention belt.

-I must have forgotten to take it off. -It's a girdle.

Of course, it isn't.

Well, why has it got those little dangly things

for holding up stockings?

Oh, they're for attaching extra weights to,

so you can get fit just as you walk around.

It's good for your thighs.

I want me body back now.

Look, okay. I went a bit bananas the first few days,

but I promise you, that's all over now.

Don't you see it's in my interest to get you into shape?

This could become a regular thing. 14 days a year, I could have your body.

In fact, next year, if it's convenient,

I'd like to book the last two weeks in July.

-I want it back. -One last chance?

-No more troughing. - I promise.

And take that girdle off. It doesn't suit me.

(RIMMER MOANING)

Holly, lights!

Right. That's it. I'm completely sick of it.

-(MOUTH FULL) Lister, is that you? -That is it.

-Wh-what is it? -You've been porking again, haven't you?

-I have not! -I want me body back now.

-But I've only had it a week! -This was not the deal.

You've welched on it.

And what's this in the bin? Me locks! Me locks are in the bin!

-I thought you said you pinned 'em up? -I did but they... Fell off.

Fell off? Science lab, now!

But it's the middle of the night. Kryten's on down time.

Now.

(LISTER COUGHING)

How many cigars did you get through, Rimmer?

Me lungs feel like they've been through a cheese grater!

Look, you've got your body back. Leave me alone.

Oh!

(COUGHS)

I only have a couple of rollies a day.

It feels like you've smoked an entire Cuban tobacco harvest.

-I had the odd one. -No respect, that's what.

You've shown my body no respect whatsoever.

You've treated it like smeg.

Look. You've given me breasts.

Look, there is a distinct cleavage there.

Cor, one week in my body and you've given me a bosom.

These scales are wrong. These scales have to be wrong.

It's average for your height.

Rimmer, it would be average for my height

if I happened to be a pregnant hippo.

Well, you weren't exactly Charles Atlas to start with, were you?

And you haven't been treating my athlete's foot, have you?

Well, quite frankly, I was afraid of touching it.

Rimmer, I told you, you have to wash and powder my feet

three times a day,

plus a good buffing with a pumice stone.

I wasn't prepared to touch those things three times a day.

Tell you the truth, I was only brave enough

to take your socks off once.

Look at my stomach. Look at it!

Paint "Goodyear" down me sides, you could float me over the Super Bowl.

Look, I refuse to take the rap for that body.

All right, I added a few pounds to its already ample frame,

but it was, let's face it, a wreck before I got anywhere near it.

A wreck?

If it was a car, you would be an insurance write-off. Nothing works.

Your taste buds are totally clapped out.

You've killed them stone dead with 25 years of non-stop curries.

And what about all the aches and pains that you never mention?

Twinges in your back, crimps in your neck.

Oh, and I will give you a little tip.

Urine should only be green if you're Mr Spock.

Well, it's the last time you borrow it, that's for goddamn sure.

What about next year? We had an agreement.

Last two weeks in July and the weekend before Christmas.

What do you want to borrow it for, Rimmer? It's a wreck.

Unfortunately, it's the best that's available.

If you can't get two weeks in the Caribbean,

Grimsby's better than nothing.

You can't back out now. You said I could have it.

I only said that to get it back. Do you think I'm raving mad?

You are never, ever, ever borrowing my body again. Never.

Get some sleep. You'll feel different in the morning.

I'm really not sure about this.

Look, you're programmed to obey. Get on with it.

-But, surely we should ask him first? -I told you, he's agreed.

He's perfectly happy about the situation.

Well, then, why did you make me chloroform him?

And why did he struggle so?

Look, I'm in charge, Kryten. I'll take full responsibility.

-Oh, but, sir... -Science lab, pronto!

If he comes around, give him another whack.

(IN LISTER'S VOICE) Are you awake, man?

Rimmer?

No, please. No! Play message.

(IN RIMMER'S VOICE) Hi! It's me.

I told you you'd feel different in the morning.

Thing is, this week has been absolute heaven for me,

and I couldn't just stand by and let you have your body back.

That's why I've taken Star bug and done a runner.

Don't worry, in a month or so, I'll come back and return it.

Just a month. Maybe six weeks,

but don't try and follow me. Otherwise, the body gets it.

Cat. Cat!

CAT: You want my what?

LISTER: It'll only take a couple of hours.

You want to borrow my body?

I need your body to get my body back.

You've already lost one body. Come on!

In all seriousness, you really expect me to lend you mine?

I'm a hologram. How else am I supposed to chase him? I need your body.

Let me ask you one question.

Would you let a garbage truck driver use your Rolls-Royce?

How else can 1 pilot the Midget?

I'll do it.

(HUMMING)

(MARCHING MUSIC PLAYING)

Rimmer, Rimmer! It's no use running, man.

We've got you in visual range.

-Turn around and head back to the ship. -I told you not to follow me.

Leave me alone or else you-know-what happens.

-He's bluffing. -I'm not bluffing.

I think he means it, man. He's flipped. It must be cream cake poisoning.

-He's bluffing. I'm going in after him. -He must be bluffing.

-Say he isn't, man? -It's gastronomic terrorism!

-We can't stand by and let it happen. -Go ahead, punks. Make my day.

-You're right. He's bluffing. -smeg!

Let's get him!

(WHOOSHING)

LISTER: This is getting stupid. Back off, let him go.

CAT: We're almost on him. LISTER: It's too dangerous. Let him go.

(LAUGHS) Chickens!

Oh, smeg!

What the smegging smeg's he smegging done? He's smegging killed me!

-Whoops! -Are you all right?

-You're going to go spare. -What? What is it?

You're going to go absolutely spare.

-Me arm. You've lost me arm! -I've lost your watch, too.

-You bastard! -No, you're right. It's my fault.

My hands are up... Well, my hand is up!

You think it's funny?

No. But this is!

Oh, hello. It's Captain Chloroform.

Please, Mr David, sir.

My guilt chip is already in overdrive. I feel terrible!

You feel terrible? What about my smegging head?

I had to obey him.

It's in my programming to obey all humans,

no matter how insane.

Dinner is served, sir.

A lettuce leaf with grated carrot. I'm on this for six months.

What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost.

(IN CAT'S VOICE) I was asleep, okay?

Next thing I know,

Plastic Percy here puts a sponge on my face and out go the lights.

It was an order!

(IN RIMMER'S VOICE) Just one night, I promise.

You can have it back first thing tomorrow.

Maybe Thursday.

(GRUNTS)

# 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 #