All language subtitles for Red dwarf S03E02 - Marooned

Awoogal Awoogal Abandon ship

But a black hole is a huge, impacted star.

It's millions of miles wide.
Why didn't you see anything?

Well, the thing about a black hole,

its main distinguishing feature is it's black.

And the thing about space, the colour of space,

your basic space colour...is it's black.

- How are you supposed to see them?
- But five.

How can you be ambushed by five black holes?

Always the way, innit?
You wait three million years and not one,

then, suddenly, five turn up at once.

Come on. We've only got 20 minutes.

- Careful. Don't knock it.
- What did you bring this junk for?

That ''junk'' happens
to be a Javanese camphor-wood chest.

It was my father's and has my valuables in it.

I never knew you had so much crap.
What's this? Toy soldiers?

''Toy soldiers''?
They've been in our family for years.

They're priceless replicas
of Napoleon's Arm�e du Nord.

So you can't change the clothes
like you can with Sindy?

- Look, we've got barely 15 minutes.
- What the smeg is this?!

Just what little I've managed
to scrimp and scrape for a rainy day.

- There must be 20 grand here.
- 24. Look, let's get off the ship.

24,000? And you had the front
to borrow money off me

to buy ME a birthday present!

That's going back a bit. It was only 15 quid.

Right, 15 quid. And what did I get?
A five-quid book token.

Those cards aren't free. I had to fork out for that.

You never even paid me back.

You're tighter than an Italian waiter's keks.

Blue Midget is loaded.

- Aren't you ready?
- We'll catch you up.

- Have you got everything?
- Just the bare essentials.

I have the bare essentials, too - 36 outfits

and ten full-length dress mirrors.

Cat, we're going to be away for 12 hours.

- You think I need more mirrors?
- Let's get out of here. Go, go, go!

- I want a safe drive. No stunts.
- No worries.

OK, I'll navigate Red Dwarf
through the black holes.

If all goes well,
we'll rendezvous on Sigma 14D.

- Please. They're priceless.
- I'm only having a goosie.

If you get curry over them, how will that look?

What would Baron Jaquinaux
of the First Cavalry Division be doing

with meat vindaloo all over his tunic?

It'll make him look more authentic.
People'll think he's got dysentery.

You're obsessed with war, aren't you?

You collect toy soldiers. You play war games.

You read those stupid combat magazines.

Half your books are about Patton
and Caesar and various other gits.

It's about leadership. That's what I admire.

It's just so ironic when, deep down,
you're such a natural coward.

- Coward?!
- Planet leave. Miranda.

That space bar. Remember that?

When that fight started, you were gone

quicker than a whippet with a bumful of dynamite.

That was a bar room brawl, a common pub fight,

a shambolic drunken set-to.

Which you started.

I just made an innocuous comment.

I merely voiced the rumour
that MacWilliams was sexually tilted

in favour of sleeping with the dead.

I didn't start the rumour. I merely voiced it.

To his face. Right to his face.

When he was with his four biggest mates.

Then you do a Roadrunner
and leave me to face the music.

- I could've got hurt.
- You'd make a brilliant general.

Generals don't smash chairs
over people's heads.

They don't stick Newcastle Brown
bottles in your face

and say, ''Stitch that, Jimmy.''

Generals are in a tent on the hill,
sipping Sancerre, directing the battle.

- They're men of honour.
- You make war sound romantic.

I'll tell you something,
something I've never told anyone.

When I was 15, I went on a trip to Macedonia
to Alexander the Great's palace.

And for the first time
in my whole life, I felt I was home.

This palace was where I belonged.

Years later, I got friendly
with a hypnotherapist, Donald.

I told him about it. He said
he could regress me back to past lives.

I was dubious, but I let him do it.

It turned out my instincts were absolutely correct.

I had lived a past life in Macedonia.
That palace WAS my home.

Because, Lister, believe it or not,

he told me that in a previous incarnation,

I was Alexander the Great's chief eunuch.

Do you know something? I believe you.

He didn't say
I was Alexander the Great himself,

which is what I wanted to hear,
but it explained everything.

I'd lived alongside
one of the greatest generals in history.

- No wonder the military is in my blood.
- No wonder you're a good singer.

Well, maybe it's tot, but even to this day,

I can't look at a pair
of nutcrackers without wincing.

And whenever I'm with a group of women,

I have this overwhelming urge
to bathe them in warm olive oil.

Rimmer, I have that urge.
It's got nothing to do with past lives.

- Well, why is it, then?
- It's because you're unhappy.

You're unhappy with your own boring,
humdrum, weaselly existence.

You're looking for something
with a bit more - I don't know - glamour.

Now is what counts, Rimmer, living for today.

Who knows what'll happen tomorrow?
That's what makes life so exciting.

Mayday. Mayday. Can you read me?
Come in, please. Can you read me?

Still snowing, is it?

It's useless. You can hardly stand up,
never mind dig it out.

- No luck?
- Nothing's getting through.

Three days. They must be looking for us
by now. Where the smeg are they?

In this weather, they could be
ten feet away and walk past us.

We're going to die, aren't we?
How much food is there?

There's half a bag
of soggy smoky bacon crisps,

a tin of mustard powder, three water biscuits,

a brown lemon, two bottles of vinegar

and a tube of Bonjela gum ointment.

- Gum ointment?
- It was in the first-aid box.

It's that minty flavour. It's quite nice.

It's quite nice smeared on your mouth ulcer.

- You can't eat it.
- You may have to.

- That's it? There's nothing else?
- Just a Pot Noodle...

Oh, and some dog food in the tool cupboard.

Well, it's obvious what gets eaten last.

I can't stand Pot Noodles.

We're going to die, aren't we?
Correction, I'M going to die.

You're already dead. You don't need food.

- Did you find any wood?
- There's no wood out there.

There's no vegetation out there.
Smeg all. Just a wasteland.

You've got to keep this fire going.

I'm going to die, aren't I?

God, I'm hungry. I'm having the crisps.

- No.
- Just one.

You ate less than 16 hours ago.

I had a raw sprout and that chewing gum
I found under the desk!

You've got to pace yourself.
Go to sleep. Wait till tomorrow.

It's OK for you. You don't need food.
You don't even feel the cold.

Think of something else.
Try to take your mind off it.

Mayday. Mayday.

- I wonder they call it ''Mayday''?
- Eh?

The distress call. Why ''Mayday''?
It's only a bank holiday.

Why not Shrove Tuesday
or Ascension Sunday?

Ascension Sunday. Ascension Sunday.

The 15th Wednesday after Pentecost.
The 15th Wednesday after Pentecost.

It's French, you doink. ''M'aidez.'' ''Help me.''

- M-aid-ez.
- Is that right?

Everywhere I look reminds me of food.

Look at these books - Charles Lamb...

Herman Wok...

the complete works of Sir Francis Bacon...

Eric Van Lustbader...

Eric Van Lustbader?
What's he got to do with food?

Van. Bread van. Meat van. Food!

Look, you're getting obsessed.

It's these books.
It's like they're here to taunt me.

Look at this,
''The Caretaker'' by Harold Pint-er.

It's Pinter.

- Stop thinking about food.
- Take my mind off it.

- Talk to me about something.
- What?

- Anything.
- Erm...

- Anything apart from food?
- Don't talk about food.

- I can't think of another topic.
- Don't mention Topics. They're food!

- Tell me a story. Any story.
- I don't know any stories.

- Tell me how you lost your virginity.
- My what?

- Talk to me.
- How I lost it?

Well, it was so long ago.

I was so young and sexually precocious,
I'm not sure I can remember.

Everyone remembers that.
It's just one of those things.

Like everyone remembers where they were
when Cliff Richard was shot...

or when the first woman landed on Pluto,

or when they put a gigantic toupee
over the Earth

to cover the gap in the ozone layer.

It's just one of those things you always remember.

Well, I don't.

You can hardly expect me to recall
every sexual liaison I've ever had.

- What am I, the Memory Man?
- Rimmer, I want the truth.

- The truth?
- Yeah.

Not much to tell, really.

I was always a fish out of water around women.

Never know what to say to them.

I wasn't very highly sexed, to be honest with you.

I think it was all that cabbage
I was forced to eat as a boy.

Still, the first time...

The first time was this girl
I met at cadet school, Sandra.

We did it in my brother's car.

- What was it like?
- Brilliant. Incredible.

Bentley V8 convertible.

Walnut panelling.
Marvellous machine. Marvellous.

- So, how did you lose yours?
- Michelle Fisher.

The ninth hole
of the Bootle municipal golf course.

Par four, dog-leg to the right, in the bunker.

You lost your virginity on a golf course?
How did you have the nerve?

It wasn't during the Ryder Cup
or anything. It was midnight.

- How old were you?
- She was so good-looking.

She could have got a job working
on the perfume counter at Lewis's.

- How old were you?
- She just stood there completely naked.

I was so excited,
I nearly dropped my skateboard.

- Skateboard?! How old were you?
- Twelve.

Twelve?!

Twelve years old?! You lost your
virginity when you were twelve?!

Twelve?!

You can't have been a full member
of the golf club.

Of course I wasn't!

You did it on a golf course
and you weren't a member?!

- Of course I wasn't.
- You didn't pay green fees?

It was just a place to go.

I used to play golf.
I hate people who abuse the facilities.

I hope you raked the sand back
nicely before you left.

That'd be some lie to get into.

Competition the next day, your ball lands
in Lister's buttock crevice.

You'd need more than a niblick
to get that out.

- Are you saying I've got a big bum?
- Big?

It's like two badly parked Volkswagens.

All I ever lost when I was 12 were my shoes

with the compass in the heel
and animal-track soles.

Porky Roebuck threw them in the septic tank
behind the sports ground.

I cried for weeks.

I was wearing them.

I never even thought about sex when I was 12.

Maybe that's because you
were Alexander the Great's chief eunuch.

- What are you doing?
- There's nothing left to burn.

- Don't burn my books!
- There's nothing else left.

But it's obscene. A book is a thing of beauty.

The voice of freedom, the essence of civilisation.

''Biggles Learns to Fly''?

Well, perhaps not that one.

''The Complete Works of Shakespeare.''

This'll be good for a few hours.

Three days without food,
and civilisation comes tumbling down.

What are you on about?

They say that any society
is three meals away from revolution.

Deprive a culture of food for three meals
and you'll have anarchy.

It's true. You've gone without food
for two days and become a barbarian.

- I'm just burning a book.
- It's not just a book.

It's the only copy of the greatest
work in English literature.

Probably the only copy left in the universe,

and you'd chuck it on the fire
to keep warm for 15 minutes.

There's nothing left to burn.

That's it, then, is it? Toodle-pip, King Lear.

Farewell, Macbeth. Bye-bye, Hamlet.

Have you ever actually read any of it?

I've seen ''West Side Story''. That's based on one.

Have you actually read any of it?

Not all the way through, no.

- But I can quote some.
- Go on, then.

''Now...''

That's all I can remember.

- What's that from?
- ''Richard III'', you moron.

The brilliant ''now'' speech he does.
''Now...something, something.''

It's brilliant. Unforgettable.

I'll save it till last. Is it OK if I burn ''Lolita''?

Save page 61.

- That bit.
- That's disgusting.

You can take that look off your face.

- I'm just trying to stay alive.
- You're eating dog food.

Yeah. I haven't eaten for six days.
I'm eating dog food.

I'm sure the dog food will be lovely.

This isn't dog food. It's a prime
fillet steak in blue cheese sauce.

It's been charcoal-broiled in garlic
and is going to taste delicious.

Delicious... Delicious...

Well, now I know
why dogs lick their testicles.

It's to take away the taste of the food.

The stove's getting low.
Better throw another book on.

- That's the last.
- You've burnt all of them?

When we get to Act Five
of ''Henry VIII'', I'm a dead man.

There must be something else to burn.

Not the trunk. It's Javanese
camphor wood. It's priceless.

There's only the trunk and what's inside.

Wait a minute! Not Napoleon's Arm�e du Nord.

Rimmer, get real, man. What's important?

If it burns, we burn it. What's the least valuable?

Not the trunk. My father gave me that.

- The soldiers, then.
- They're 19th-century.

Irreplaceable. They were hand-carved
by the legendary Dubois brothers.

Well, then?

Better start unpacking the soldiers.

No. There must be something else
to burn. There must be.

There isn't. I looked.
Look, I know it must be a bummer.

I know it must be heartbreaking,
but it's just stuff.

It's just possessions. They're only things.

In the end, they're not important.

They might go for a bundle
in some swanky Islington antique shop,

but right here and now,
all they are is nicely painted firewood.

This isn't happening. It's a nightmare.

You've got to get your priorities right.

It's like people
who run back into a burning house

to rescue some piece of furniture
and wind up burning to death.

Nothing's more important than a human life...

-What about your guitar?
- ..except my guitar.

Why didn't we think of it before?
We'll burn your guitar.

- Not my guitar.
- It's made of wood.

Yeah, but it's my guitar.
I've had it since I was 16.

That is an authentic Les Paul copy.

But it's not worth anything.
It's just a thing, a possession.

- Yeah, but it's mine.
- How is it different from MY soldiers?

That's my lifeline. I need that guitar.

I mean, when it gets to me...
I mean, the loneliness and all that...

When it gets on top of me,
it's my only means of escape.

I know I'm not exactly a wizard on it.

I know it's only got five strings
and three of them are G...

but I've never had anything to cling onto -

no roots, no parents, no education...

- No education?
- I went to art college.

All I've ever had is that guitar.

It's the only thing in my whole life
that hasn't walked out on me.

Don't make me burn it.

We've got to.

Look, I know
this might sound stupid, like, but...

can I just play one song on it,
just one for the road?

Sure, sure.
I mean, I'm not enjoying this.

I know, man. Thanks.

# She's out of my life

# I don't know
whether to laugh or cry... #

My step-dad taught me this one.

It's the first song I ever learned to play.

- I'm just going to, er...
- # I don't know whether to live or die

# She's out of my...

# Life #

- I don't know what to say.
- There's nothing to say.

You've made a supreme sacrifice.
You know that?

- A supreme sacrifice.
- It had to be done.

I've been judging the book by its cover, haven't I?

All these years, that's what I've been doing.

When it comes down to it, you're one regular guy.

Don't be modest.
I know what that guitar meant to you.

It means exactly the same
as that trunk means to me.

If that trunk got so much as scratched,
I would be devastated.

It's not the outward value.
To me, that trunk is a link to the past,

to the father I never squared things with...

- Is it?
- That trunk is all he ever gave me,

apart from...apart from his disappointment.

You've shown me, by burning your guitar,
what true value is.

Decency. Self-sacrifice. Those are
the things that make up real wealth,

and from where I'm standing,
I'm a pretty rich man.

- Oh, God.
- Burn the soldiers.

- Not the soldiers, as well.
- I want to make a sacrifice, too.

Burn the Arm�e du Nord. Cast them to the flames.

Let them lay down their lives
for the sake of friendship.

- What's that smell?
- What smell? I can't smell any smell.

Camphor wood.

Your guitar was made of camphor wood.

It must have been worth a fortune.
Burn the soldiers right now.

Look, there they are. Mush! Mush!

Au revoir, mes amis. � bient�t.

Rimmer, there's something
I've got to tell you, something awful.

If it's about finishing off the dog food,
I understand.

- No, it's not about that...
- Hey! Hey! Hey! Oooooow!

- Cat! Kryten!
- We made it!

- Food! You brought food!
- So, where have you been?

We rendezvoused with Holly.
When you didn't show up,

- I said we should look for you.
- We've been everywhere.

Fourteen moons, two planets.
I've been so worried,

I haven't buffed my shoes for days.

So, Holly navigated through five black holes?

As it transpired, there weren't any black holes.

- They were on the monitor.
- They weren't black holes.

- What were they?
- Grit.

Five specks of grit on the scanner-scope.

See, the thing about grit is it's black,

and the thing about scanner-scopes...

- Oh, shut up.
- Let's go.

Something happened here, Kryten.
Something that made us closer.

I saw a side of Dave Lister
that I never knew existed.

He's not an irresponsible, selfish drifter,
always out for number one.

He's a man. A man of honour.

Excuse me.

Open the trunk.

Kryten, get the hacksaw and follow me.

Where are we going?

We're going to do to Lister
what Alexander the Great once did to me.