RED DWARF Series II Episode 1, "Kryten"

Home , Backwards (novel), Backwards (Red Dwarf), Better Than Life, Blue (Red Dwarf), Cat (Red Dwarf), Dave Lister

View of space. HOLLY: (In space) Three million years from Earth, the mining ship Red Dwarf. Its crew: Dave Lister, the last human being alive; Arnold Rimmer, a hologram of his dead bunkmate; and a creature who evolved from the ship's cat. Message ends. (Reappearing) Additional: As the days go by, we face the increasing inevitability that we are alone in a godless, uninhabited, hostile and meaningless universe. Still, you've got to laugh, haven't you?

Nova-5. The wreckage of the Nova-5, a small ship crashed on a barren moon.

Nova-5. KRYTEN, an android, watches a video monitor on which two silver androids, KELLY and BROOK speak. KELLY: Sit down, Brook. There's something I must tell you. BROOK: What is it, Kelly? KELLY: I wasn't with Simone that evening, Brook. I spent the night with Gary. BROOK: Your ex-husband Gary, my business rival? What are you telling me, Kelly? KELLY: I'm saying... Brook, Jr. BROOK: What about Brook, Jr.? KELLY: He isn't your android. The closing credits for the soap opera "Androids" roll by on the screen. All the characters played by "Android####" with #### being a serial number.

Sleeping quarters . LISTER is polishing up his space-bike. RIMMER paces the room and watches a recording of a woman reciting an Esperanto Instructional tape on the monitor. WOMAN: "Mi esporas ke kiam vi venos la vetero estos milda." RIMMER: Wait a minute, I know this one, don't tell me, don't tell me, don't tell me! LISTER: I hope when you come the weather will be clement. WOMAN: "I hope when you come the weather will be clement." RIMMER: Lister, don't tell me. I could've got that. WOMAN: "Bonvolu direkti min al kvinsela hotela?" RIMMER: Ah... I remember this from last time... LISTER: Please could you direct me to a five-star hotel? RIMMER: Wrong, actually. Totally, utterly, and completely wrong. WOMAN: "Please could you direct me to a five-star hotel?" RIMMER: Lister, will you please shut up? 2

LISTER: I'm only helping ya! RIMMER: Well I don't need any help. WOMAN: "La mango estis bonega! Dlej korajin gratulonjn' al la kuristo." RIMMER: (Snaps his fingers) I would like to purchase that orange inflatable beach ball and that small bucket and spade. WOMAN: "The meal was splendid! My heartiest congratulations to the chef." RIMMER: What? Pause! LISTER: Rimmer, you've been doing Esperanto for eight years. How come you're so utterly useless? RIMMER: Oh, speaks! And how many books have you read in your entire life? The same number as champion the wonder horse: zero! LISTER: I've read books. RIMMER: Uh, Lister, we're not talking about books where the main character is a dog called "Ben." LISTER: I went to Art College! RIMMER: You? LISTER: Yeah! RIMMER: How did you get into Art College? LISTER: The normal way you get into Art College. The same old, usual, normal, boring you get in. Failed me exams and applied. The snatched me up. RIMMER: Ah, but you didn't get a degree, did you? LISTER: No, I dropped out. I wasn't in long. RIMMER: How long? LISTER: 97 minutes. I thought it was going to be a good skive and all that, you know? But I took one look at the time table and just checked out, man. I mean, it was ridiculous. They had, they had lectures at, like, first thing, in the afternoon. We're talking half-past twelve everyday. Who's together by then? You can still taste the toothpaste. RIMMER: Well, unlike you, Lister, I have ambitions. I'm not prepared to sit around all day polishing my space-bike so I can go joyriding through some asteroid belt. 'Cause I'm not a gimp! And one of my ambitions is to learn another language so kindly let me get on with it. (To the monitor) Play. WOMAN: "La menuo aspektas bowege -- mi provos la kokidajon." RIMMER: Ah, now this is one I do know. HOLLY: (Appearing on the screen) The menu looks interesting -- I think I'll try the chicken. RIMMER: Holly, as the Esperantinos would say, "Bonvolu alsendi la pordiston? Lausajne estas rano en mia bideo!" (Thumbs his chin at HOLLY) And I think we all know what that means. HOLLY: Yeah, it means, "Could you send for the hall porter? There appears to be a frog in my bidet." RIMMER: Is it? Well what's that one about, "Your father was a baboon's rump and your mother spent most of her life up against walls with sailors?" HOLLY: I'm not telling you. RIMMER: It's because you're bored, isn't it? That's why you're both 3

annoying me. HOLLY: I'm not bored. I've had a really busy morning. I've devised a system to totally revolutionize music. LISTER: Get out of town! HOLLY: Yeah, I've decimalized it. Instead of the octave, it's the decatave. And I've invented two new notes: H and J. LISTER: Hang on a minute, you can't just invent new notes. HOLLY: Well I have. Now it goes: (Singing) Do Re Mi Fa So La Wo Bo Ti Do. Do Ti Bo Wo La So Fa Mi Re Do. RIMMER: What are you drivelling about? HOLLY: Holrock. It'll be a whole new sound. All the instruments will be extra big to incorporate my two new notes. Triangles will have four sides. Piano keyboards the length of zebra crossings. Course, women will have to be banned from playing the cello. LISTER: Holly, shut up. HOLLY: Oh, I forgot, I haven't told you the news. RIMMER: What news? HOLLY: A signal. We're getting a signal. It's probably nothing but I just thought I'd mention it. RIMMER: (Snaps his fingers) Aliens! LISTER: Oh god, aliens? Your explanation for anything slightly peculiar is aliens, isn't it? You lose your keys -- it's aliens. A picture falls off the wall -- it's aliens. That time we used up a whole bog roll in a day -- you thought that was aliens as well. RIMMER: Well we didn't use it all, Lister. Who did? LISTER: Rimmer, aliens used our bog roll? RIMMER: Just 'cause they're aliens doesn't mean to say the don't have to visit the little boys' room. Only they probably do something weird and alienesque like it comes out of the top of their heads or something. LISTER: Well I wouldn't like to be stuck behind one in a cinema.

Red Dwarf corridor. The CAT backs around a corner watching the floor and holding a bat. CAT: Here, mousie, mousie! I've got some cheese! I only want to be your friend! (Starts banging around the floor with the bat.) LISTER and RIMMER stroll up the corridor. LISTER: Yo, Cat! (The CAT spins around and hides the bat behind his back.) We're getting a signal. Come on. RIMMER: (Excitedly) Aliens!

Drive room. Like series 1 but with a better budget. Lots of flashy props and multiple monitors. HOLLY: It's a distress call from a ship called the Nova-5. They've crash-landed. I'm trying to establish contact. LISTER: Another ship! Brilliant! (Sips from a glass of milk.) RIMMER: So it's not aliens, then? HOLLY: No, they're from Earth. I hope they'd got some spare odds and sods on board. We're a bit short on a few supplies. 4

LISTER: Like what? (Sips his milk again.) HOLLY: Cow's milk. Ran out of that yonks ago. Fresh and dehydrated. LISTER: What kind of milk are we using now? (Sips his milk.) HOLLY: Emergency back-up supply. We're on the dog's milk. LISTER: (Staring at the cup) Dog's milk?! HOLLY: Nothing wrong with dog's milk. Full of goodness, full of vitamins, full of marrowbone jelly. Lasts longer than any other type of milk, dog's milk. LISTER: Why? HOLLY: No bugger'll drink it. Plus the advantage of dog's milk is when it goes off it takes exactly the same as when it's fresh. LISTER: Why didn't you tell me, Holly?! HOLLY: What, and spoil your tea? LISTER whimpers and slams his cup down HOLLY: Hang about, we've got contact. RIMMER: Punch it up. KRYTEN: (On the monitor) Thank goodness! My name is Kryten. I'm the service mechanoid aboard the Nova-5. We've had a terrible accident. The male officers died on impact. The female officers are injured but stable. Please help us. CAT: Is that female as in "soft and squidgy?" RIMMER: How many? KRYTEN: Three. Miss Jane, Miss Tracy, and Miss Anne. I am transmitting medical details. Pictures of the female officers appear on the screen along with their name, height, weight, and other statistics, all within the "attractive" range. RIMMER: Tell them we're coming aboard. By god, we'll rescue these fair blooms or my name's not, "Captain A.J. Rimmer, Space Adventurer." KRYTEN: Thank you, Captain. (Ends transmission.) LISTER: "Space Adventurer?" RIMMER: What was I supposed to say? "Fear not, I'm the bloke you used to clean the gunk out the chicken soup machine! Actually, we know sod all about space travel but if you've got a blocked nozzle, we're your lads!?" That'll fill them with confidence, won't it? LISTER: How far are we away, Hol? HOLLY: 'bout 24 hours. CAT: (Jumping up) What?! Only 24 hours?! I better start getting ready. (Singing) Twenty-four hours... Ahhh!!! First in the shower room! Heh heh heh! (Dances out then jumps back in.) Hey, I'm so excited all six of my nipples are tingling! (Dances out.) LISTER: What's the matter with him? We're on a mission of mercy. We're taking them urgently needed medical supplies. We're not on the pull!

Sleeping quarters. LISTER is getting dressed. He finds a sock on his bed, smells it, and discards it. He digs a red sock out the hamper, smells it, then sprays it with disinfectant, also spraying some under each arm. Then he takes the sock to the table and whacks it a few times with a hammer and puts it 5 on. He grabs some black jeans and struggles into them then notices a big iron-shaped hole in the right buttock. He digs a spray can out of his locker and sprays black paint over the hole. Looks at himself in the mirror. LISTER: God! (Dances around.) RIMMER walks in wearing a Captain's white dress uniform with medals gold fringing and epaulet, and a cap under his arm. RIMMER: (Looking at LISTER) No, we're not "on the pull," are we, Lister? Look at you. You're absolutely pathetic. You're really trying, aren't you? You're wearing all your least smeggy things. LISTER: I don't know what you're talking about. RIMMER: That t-shirt with only two curry stains on the front of it. You only wear that on special occasions. You're toffed up to the nines, laddy! LISTER: And what about you? You look like Clive of India! Or the one whose mum does use new biological biz! RIMMER: Oh! It's started. I knew it would. LISTER: What has? RIMMER: The put-downs. It's always the same when we meet girls. Put me down and make yourself look good. LISTER: Like when? RIMMER: Remember those two little brunettes from supplies? And I told them I worked in stores and they were really interested and asked me exactly what I did there. LISTER: And I said you were a shelf. RIMMER: Exactly! And I suggested a little trip to Titan Zoo and you said, "Eww! He's taking ya home ta meet his mum already!" LISTER: So? They laughed! RIMMER: Yes, at me! At my expense! Just don't put me down when we meet them. LISTER: Okay, whatcha want me to say? How do you want me to act? RIMMER: I don't know. Just act with respect. For a start, don't call me "Rimmer." LISTER: Why not? RIMMER: Because you always put the emphasis on "Rim" in "Rimmer." Makes me sound like a lavatory disinfectant. LISTER: Well what do you want me to call you? "Rim-MER?" RIMMER: I don't know. Um, "Arnie," "Arn," uh, something with a little more... I don't know. How about "Big Man?" LISTER: (Sneering) "Big Man?" RIMMER: Or what about the nickname I had a school? LISTER: What? "Bonehead?" RIMMER: How did you know my nickname was "Bonehead?" LISTER: I was only guessing. RIMMER: I didn't mean that. I meant the other one. LISTER: What other one? RIMMER: "Ace!" LISTER: Get out of town! Your nickname was never "Ace!" Maybe "Ace- hole." 6

RIMMER: It was my nickname at school, actually. It's just, no one ever called me it despite the many times I let them beat me up. LISTER: What are you trying to say to me, Rimmer? RIMMER: I'm trying to say build me up, don't put me down. LISTER: Like? RIMMER: Like, if the opportunity occurs and it crops up naturally in conversation, you could perhaps mention that I'm very brave. LISTER: Do what? RIMMER: Don't go ape. Just sort of mention, perhaps, that I died and I was pretty, incredibly brave about it. Well, I mean, you know, you could mention hints that I've had tons of girlfriends. LISTER stares at RIMMER in disbelief. RIMMER: All right, forget it, it was just an idea. Oh, you're not wearing those boots, are you? LISTER: What's wrong with them? RIMMER: Oh, they just don't go, not with that lot. Uh, you should wear your Day-Glo orange moon boots. LISTER: You said they were disgusting. RIMMER: (Inhales.) Ew, no, very chic. LISTER: You said they smelled like an orangutan's posing pouch and set off one of those dangerous chemical alarms. You made me put them in the air-lock. RIMMER: No, no. That was a mistake. They really look terrific on you. I'd wear them. LISTER: Honest? RIMMER: Definitely.

Nova-5. KRYTEN bustles about. KRYTEN: Come along, everybody! They're here! They're in orbit! Miss Jane! He walks up to Miss Jane, a bare skeleton in a red wig and clothes, sitting at a table. KRYTEN: What a mess you look! (Brushes the wig and applies lipstick to the skull.) Smart but casual. KRYTEN turns to another skeleton at the table. KRYTEN: Miss Anne! Why, you haven't touched your soup! No wonder you're beginning to look so pasty. The skeleton falls forward into the bowl of soup. KRYTEN sits it back up. KRYTEN: Oh, do eat nicely, Miss Anne! What on Earth will the visitors think if they see you eating like that? Hmm? KRYTEN turns to a third skeleton at the table. KRYTEN: Ah, Miss Tracy. (Prepares to brush its wig, then stops.) No, you look absolutely perfect.

Starbug cockpit. LISTER sits at the controls with his feet propped up on the panels, reading a children's book with cardboard pages. Fumes rise off his Day- 7

Glo orange moon boots. RIMMER stands behind him with a sick look on his face. LISTER: What's that smell? RIMMER: (Strained) I can't smell anything. LISTER: Are you okay? Your eyes are watering. RIMMER: It's the excitement. Look, we can't wait for the cat. Let's just go. LISTER: Oh, come on, he's been preparing for a day and a night. Don't you want to see the result?

Red Dwarf hangar . The CAT jumps in wearing a shiny gold spacesuit with humongous lapels and carrying an extra-tall gold helmet under his arm. CAT: Aaaaaoooowww! Wait for me!

Starbug cockpit. CAT enters. CAT: Aaaaoow! Hi, monkeys! Meet a plastic surgeon's nightmare! RIMMER: A spacesuit with cufflinks. LISTER: Where'd ya get the helmet? CAT: I made it myself. I didn't want to muss up my hair. Hey, listen, we just gotta make sure we don't pass any mirrors, 'cause if we do, I'm there for the day. (Makes a face.) Ewww! What's that smell? HOLLY appears on the monitor, wearing a toupee. HOLLY: All right, everybody ready? Let's go, then. LISTER: What are you doing, Hol? HOLLY: What? What's wrong? LISTER: The rug, man. Why are you wearing a toupee? HOLLY: What toupee? LISTER: The one on your head. HOLLY: Who's head's that, then? LISTER: Your head. It makes you look like a game show host. RIMMER: What's wrong with everyone? Three million years without a woman and you all act as if you're fourteen years old. HOLLY: Oh, yeah? What about you and the socks? LISTER: What socks? RIMMER: Come on, we can't hang about. HOLLY: He ordered two pairs of socks. LISTER: What for? HOLLY: One pair to put on his feet and the other pair to roll up and put down his trousers. RIMMER quickly takes off his cap and lays it in his lap.

Nova-5 entryway . KRYTEN welcomes the boys aboard. KRYTEN: Come in, come in. How lovely to meet you! RIMMER: Er, carmita. And what a delightful craft you have. Reminds me of my first command. KRYTEN: This way, please. 8

They all head down the hall. The CAT stops at a full-length mirror on the wall and looks at himself. CAT: Hey, you're a work of art, baby! LISTER: (Gesturing to him) Psst! CAT: (Trying to leave the mirror but can't) Uh, you're going to have to help me, man. LISTER: (Pulling the CAT down the hall) Come on. CAT: (Still reaching for the mirror) Thank you!

Nova-5 corridor . KRYTEN: I'm so excited. We all are! The girls could scarcely stop themselves from jumping up and down. RIMMER: (With a painfully nasal laugh) Ah ha ha. Carmita, carmita! KRYTEN: Ah! Vi parolas Espekanton, Kapitano Rimmer? RIMMER: Uh, come again? KRYTEN: You speak Esperanto, Captain Rimmer? RIMMER: Oh, si, si, si, jawohl, oiu!

Nova-5 large room. KRYTEN enters the room ahead of the rest. KRYTEN: (Speaking to the skeletal crew) Well, here they are. RIMMER: (Enters and bows) Carmita... (Sees the skeletons and stays in his bow, jaw agape.) LISTER and the CAT enter and stare at the skeletons. LISTER: Well... it's a bit difficult to know what to say. Isn't it, Ace? KRYTEN: Well, isn't anybody going to say, "Hello?" LISTER: (To RIMMER) I think the blonde one's giving you the eye. KRYTEN: Well, I'll leave you to get acquainted. I'll just go and fix some tea. (Exits.) CAT: (To the skeleton of Tracy) Hi, baby! RIMMER: I don't believe this. LISTER: Be strong, Big Man! RIMMER: Our first contact with intelligent life in three million and two years and it's the android version of Norman Bates. CAT: Come on, guys. So they're a little on the skinny side. LISTER: Listen, girls. I don't know whether this is the time or place to say this but my mate, Ace, here is incredibly, 'credibly brave! RIMMER: Smeg off, dog food face! LISTER: And he's got just tons and tons of girlfriends! RIMMER: I'm warning you, Lister! KRYTEN returns with tea and cups on a serving platter. KRYTEN: (Noticing the silence) Well, is anything the matter? RIMMER: Anything the matter? They're dead. KRYTEN: Who's dead? RIMMER: (Pointing to the skeletons) They are dead. They're all dead. KRYTEN: My god! Well, I was only away two minutes! RIMMER: They've been dead for centuries! KRYTEN: No! RIMMER: Yes! 9

KRYTEN: Are you a doctor? RIMMER: You've only got to look at them. They've got less meat on them than a Chicken McNugget! KRYTEN: Well, what am I going to do? I'm, I'm, I'm programmed to serve them. LISTER: I think the first thing we should do is bury them. KRYTEN: You're that sure they're dead? RIMMER: (Exasperated) Yes!! KRYTEN: (Indicating the skeleton of Anne) What about this one? RIMMER: There's a simple test. (To the skeletons) All right, girls, hands up, those of you who are alive. KRYTEN gestures desperately to the skeletons. KRYTEN: (Lost) Well, what am I going to do??

Starbug rear. KRYTEN, LISTER, RIMMER, and the CAT in the piloting cabin. KRYTEN: But I can't leave them! Mister David, please! Take me back! LISTER: Aw, Kryten, you've got to start a new life now. KRYTEN: I haven't got the software to cope with this. I was created to serve. I serve, therefore I am. That is my purpose -- to serve and have no regard for myself. LISTER: You're beginning to sound like my mum. KRYTEN: It's all I know. LISTER: You've got to change, haven't ya? You gotta work out what you want. Stop being everyone's smeggin' doormat. KRYTEN: That's easy for you to say, Mister David. You're a human. RIMMER: Only just.

Red Dwarf corridor. KRYTEN is moping about. RIMMER: (Walking up to KRYTEN) Ah, Kryten. Nothing to do, eh? Follow me.

Montage sequence . KRYTEN peels potatoes, irons, looks at a long list, scrubbs the decks, looks at the list, polishes the scutters, looks at the list, cleans Holly's screen.

Red Dwarf corridor . LISTER rides his bike down the corridor to the door to his quarters, gets off and enters. The entire room has been cleaned and redecorated with lace curtains, pastel wallpaper, and so on. Looks like something you might find Barbie living in. LISTER: What the smeggin' hell is going on? KRYTEN: Good afternoon, Mister David, sir. LISTER: (Holding up a pair of boxer shorts) What are these? KRYTEN: Your boxer shorts, Mister David, sir. LISTER: No way are these my boxer shorts. These bend! What have you done to the place? 10

KRYTEN: I've done a spot of tidying up. LISTER: But where is everything? Where's me coffee cup with the mould in it? KRYTEN: I threw it away, sir. LISTER: But I was breeding that mould. His name was "Albert." I was trying to get him two foot high. KRYTEN: Why, sir? LISTER: Because it drives Rimmer nuts and driving Rimmer nuts is what keeps me going. KRYTEN: I'm sorry, Mister David, sir. LISTER: Look at ya. What are you doing? Why are you doing all this? KRYTEN: Well, serving makes me happy, sir. LISTER: But what about you? Don't you ever want to do anything just for yourself? KRYTEN: Myself? (Chuckles.) Well, that's a bit of a barmy notion, if you don't mind my saying so, sir. LISTER: Come on, there must be something you look forward to. KRYTEN: "Androids." (Sings and makes mechanical gestures.) "Androids... everybody needs good androids..." LISTER: That stupid soap opera? Why? KRYTEN: Well, because, for half an hour a week, I can forget I'm me. LISTER: "Androids?" What else? KRYTEN: Oh, ah, being asleep. LISTER: "Androids" and being asleep? (Patting him on the back) Sounds like a crazy, fun-packed life you lead there, Kryten, me old son. KRYTEN: (Snickers with embarrassment.) I have strange thoughts when I'm asleep. LISTER: Yeah, they're called dreams. KRYTEN: My favorite one is that I'm, I'm in a garden. I've never even seen a garden except in books. (With a faraway look) And I've planted everything and made it grow. It's my garden. And there's no one there except me, just me and all the things I've made live. (Giggles embarrassedly.) Silly. LISTER: No, it isn't! Find a planet with an atmosphere and do it. KRYTEN: I can't. I'm programmed to serve. LISTER: There's no one to serve, Kryten. That's the point. KRYTEN: What about Mister Arnold? (Holds up the four foot list of chores.) I've got to complete Mister Arnold's tasks. LISTER: (Looking at the list) You what?! Rimmer gave you all this? KRYTEN: Well, Mister Arnold is my master now. LISTER: "Mister Arnold" isn't his name. His name's "Rimmer." Or "Smeghead." Or "Dinosaur Breath" or "Molecule Mind." And on a really special occasion when you want to be really mega-polite to him, Kryten, we're talking MEGA-polite, in those exceptional circumstances, you can call him "Arse-hole."

Sleeping quarters . LISTER is lying in his bunk. The CAT is serving himself some pasta and sauce from the table. KRYTEN is painting a picture of RIMMER, who is 11 posing by the window. We can only see the top half of the painting which shows Rimmer from the chest up in Captain's dress uniform in front of a bookshelf and red curtains. RIMMER: I think it will be best on that wall, sort of dominating the room. KRYTEN: Yes, Mister Arnold, sir. LISTER: (Mimicking) "Yes, Mister Arnold, sir." You're a total Gwendolyn, do you know that, Kryten? KRYTEN: Oh, yes, Mister David, sir. LISTER: (Mimicking) "Yes, Mister David, sir." RIMMER: Leave it alone, Lister. It enjoys doing the task I give. It makes it happy. LISTER: Drop dead, Rimmer. RIMMER: Already have done. LISTER: Encore! CAT: You'd never get a cat to be a servant. You ever see a cat return a stick? (To an imaginary stick-thrower) Hey, man! You threw the stick, you go get it, yourself! I'm busy! If you wanted the stick so bad, why'd you throw it away in the first place? LISTER: Kryten, you never got a thing from those movies I showed you, did ya? RIMMER: What movies? KRYTEN: Mister David was kind enough to take me to see "The Wild Ones," "Easy Rider," and "Rebel Without a Cause." LISTER: I thought it might do him some good. Fat chance! In the middle of Marlon Brando's rebel speech, he gets out a brush-a-matic and starts doing me lapels! RIMMER: Well, now, maybe you'll learn, Lister. There's a natural order to things in life. Some give orders, others obey. That's the way it's always been, that's the way it's always going to be. Isn't that true, Kryten? KRYTEN: Oh, yes, Mister Arnold, sir. LISTER: "Yes, Mister Arnold..." What's the point? KRYTEN: Ah. I've finished, Mister Arnold, sir. RIMMER: (Walking over to see the painting) Excellent, Kryten! The painting from the chest down turns out to show Rimmer sitting on a toilet with his pants down and holding a bog roll. KRYTEN: I think it's rather good. Don't you, Mister Arnold, sir? RIMMER: (Through clenched teeth) What are you doing? KRYTEN: I, um, I think I'm, uh, rebelling. RIMMER: Rebelling?! KRYTEN: Yes, I, uh, I, I, I, I think that's what I'm doing. RIMMER: You are rebelling? KRYTEN: Mmmm... yes. RIMMER: What are you rebelling against? KRYTEN: (Tossing his paint palette on the floor and speaking like Marlon Brando) Whaddya got? (Struts across the room.) Dinosaur Breath! (Picks up the pot of pasta sauce.) Molecule Mind! (Splashes the sauce over Rimmer's bunk.) Smeg-for-brains! (To LISTER) I need your bike. 12

LISTER: You got it! KRYTEN: (High-fives the CAT then turns around and shoots Rimmer the bird.) Swivel on it, punk! (Struts out the door.)

Red Dwarf Hangar KRYTEN, decked out in metal-studded, leather jacket, cap, and gloves, climbs onto Lister's space-bike, sticks out his jaw defiantly, and revs the motor.

RED DWARF Series II Episode 2, "Better Than Life"

View of space . HOLLY: (In space) Three million years from Earth, the mining ship Red Dwarf. Its crew: Dave Lister, the last human being alive; Arnold Rimmer, a hologram of his dead bunkmate; and a creature who evolved from the ship's cat. Message ends. (Reappearing) Additional: Loneliness weighs heavily on us all. Personally the only thing that keeps me going is the thought that we are over sixty billion miles away from the nearest Berni Inn.

Red Dwarf. A rocket powered metal cylinder approaches RED DWARF from the depths of space. Cut to inside where LISTER has a medical problem. He is holding a bottle of liquid to help a bad stomach. LISTER: (Reading the bottle) "For a mild stomach upset take one teaspoonful. For acute indigestion take two." LISTER considers, takes the spoon out of his mouth and throws it away. Then he empties most of the bottle into a glass and starts gulping it. RIMMER enters, dressed as a chef. RIMMER: Well, a highly enjoyable meal all round. Obviously you can't expect perfection first time but I was quite delighted with the way my dumplings went down. LISTER: Rimmer, real dumplings, proper dumplings when they're properly cooked to perfection, proper dumplings, should not bounce. RIMMER: True, but compared to what I thought they were going to be like they were quite superb. LISTER: So how's the Cat? RIMMER: He's just sleeping off the stomach pump. He'll be alright. The lamb was a bit of a flop though. LISTER: The lamb? Everybody thought the lamb was the cheese and that lemon meringue pie, man, what was in that? RIMMER: I thought you liked that, you brought some back. LISTER: Yeah, I wanted to try some on my athlete's foot. RIMMER: It's not easy, Lister, cooking. When you're dead, when you don't 13

exist, when you're made entirely of light. LISTER: That's your excuse for everything isn't it -- being dead? RIMMER: I'm just trying to rehabilitate myself, trying to do the everyday, normal things that most living people take for granted. LISTER: You've got the skutters to help you. RIMMER: What? Pinky and smeggy Perky? What use are they? It's like giving Blind Pew contact lenses. LISTER: They only do what you tell them to. RIMMER: Ah, but they don't do they? You say, "Keep an eye on that lamb," and they do. They sit there for three hours and watch it burn. LISTER: So. They've got no emotion have they? It's not built into their software. RIMMER: Have you seen their broom cupboard? it's full of pin-ups of John Wayne. That cannot be right can it? (Indicating shoulder height) Piled this high with Film Fun magazines. It's not the way spanners behave in my book. HOLLY appears on the screen and breaks in. HOLLY: Oi. What's happening dudes? LISTER: Hi, Hol. HOLLY: Guess what? RIMMER: What? HOLLY: Go on, have a guess. RIMMER: What is it vaguely about? HOLLY: No clues, just have a guess. RIMMER and LISTER look exasperated. LISTER covers his face. HOLLY: I knew you wouldn't get it. Post pod's arrived. RIMMER: What, the mail? HOLLY: It's been tracking us since we left Earth. Now we've turned round it's caught up. LISTER: Do you mean it's taken 3 million years. HOLLY: Yeah, that's about average for second class post.

Corridor . The skutters are racing around the corridors. One is wearing an Indian headdress and is being chased by another in a cowboy hat firing a gun. LISTER and RIMMER walk past. RIMMER: See what I mean? (Makes Indian warcry.)

Mail room. The pod has been opened. Piles and piles of mail are lying around. The arm of a skutter takes one from the John Wayne fan club addressed to "The Skutters, Red Dwarf, Deep Space, RE1 3DW" and disappears. RIMMER: There's everything here, all the mail, entertainment cassettes, a new batch of movies. LISTER: Oh! The new Friday the 13th movie -- Friday the 13th part one thousand six hundred and forty nine. RIMMER: Look, Cassablanca! They've re-made Cassablanca! LISTER: Philistines. I mean how can you re-make Cassablanca? The one starring Myra Dinglebat and Peter Beardsley was definitive. 14

HOLLY: I saw that one -- knockout! "Of all the space bars on all the worlds you had to re-materialise in mine." RIMMER: Look, a cassette of a whole year of Earth news here. LISTER: And two seasons of zero gee football. I'll see you in the spring. (Gets up to leave.) RIMMER: Ah ah ah ah. What are total immersion video games? LISTER: Where? Oh these are brilliant. (Picks up canister.) You can't get hold of these for love nor money! These are like Venus's arms. These are like Brooke Shield's buttocks. RIMMER: What are they? LISTER: Well they're computer games aren't they? But electrodes are inserted into your frontal lobes and hypothalamus right? So you actually feel as though you're really, really there. Yessssss. RIMMER: (Dismissively) Fine. Holly there's something here for you. It's a video letter. HOLLY: Bung it on. LISTER inserts the cassette and a face, somewhat similar to HOLLY's, appears on the monitor. Except that this one wears glasses. HOLLY: Strike a light, it's Gordon. RIMMER: Who's Gordon? HOLLY: He's the eleventh generation AI computer aboard the Scott Fitzgerald. He's got an IQ of eight thousand. GORDON: Alright, Hol? (The voice belies the IQ estimate.) It-- It's Gordon. HOLLY: Awesome, his intellect, I'll tell you. GORDON: I'm just sending on the latest move in our chess game. My move is Pawn, right -- that's the little knobbly ones down the front -- Pawn to King four. Your move. Well, I'd better sign off now. See you, Hol. Bye. (Waits some time and the image still remains on screen.) How do you turn this off then? LISTER: (Turning off GORDON) You were playing postal chess with him were you? HOLLY: Well. A chance to lock horns with an intellect of that calibre I'd be a fool not to. Pawn to King four eh? He's a sly one. LISTER: So who's winning Hol? HOLLY: Well, he is really. That was the first move.

Mail room. LISTER is sorting out the newly delivered mail. LISTER: Me. Me. Me. You. Me. RIMMER: It's all junk mail yours, you know. LISTER: Me. Me. Me. RIMMER: You send off for every bit of rubbish going, you do. Just so you'll have some mail to open. LISTER: Me. Me. RIMMER: (Silly voice) Please rush me my portable walrus polishing kit. Four super brushes that will clean even the trickiest of seabound mammals. Yes I am over eighteen, though my IQ isn't. LISTER: Me. Me. Smeg! "Outland Revenue." 15

RIMMER: (Sucks in breath and becomes very cheerful.) Oh oh oh oh, "Outland Revenue." LISTER: Eight thousand five hundred? RIMMER: Eight thousand five hundred? (Happily) That's a lot of tax isn't it, Lister? How on Titan are you going to pay for that, eh? LISTER: I'm not. (Pause) It's yours. RIMMER: What? (Jumps up.) No. This is wrong. It's wrong. This is well wrong, Lister. LISTER: Relax. It doesn't matter now. They're not going to catch you now are they? RIMMER: What do you mean? Just because we're three million years into deep space and the human species is extinct. That means nothing to these people. They'll find us. LISTER: (Returning to mail sorting.) Me. RIMMER: God, I'll be worrying about this all the time now. LISTER: Me. No another one for you. Rear Admiral Lieutenant General Rimmer. RIMMER: That's from my mother. LISTER: Rear Admiral? RIMMER: Every time I take an exam I tell her I passed. It's getting embarrassing now. I should be Commander in Chief of the whole universe. LISTER: Do you want me to open it? (RIMMER nods, LISTER does so and starts to read.) "Dear Rimmer." Is this from your mum? RIMMER: That's mumsie! LISTER: This handwriting's terrible. "I hope this epistle finds you adequately healthy to discharge your duties." You know maybe I shouldn't be reading this deeply personal stuff. RIMMER: Just get on with it. LISTER: "I write to--" I can't read that. Oh, "I write to inform." "I write to inform you that your father is dad." Well of course he is. Maybe it's your father stroke dad. RIMMER: It's dead. LISTER: I can't make it out. (Holds letter up and examines it.) RIMMER: My father is dead. LISTER: What? RIMMER: My father is dead. LISTER: Oh yeah it's an E. (Happy to have solved it.) That's what it is. Your father's dead, Rimmer. (Realises what he's said.) Oh, eh -- I'm sorry. RIMMER: Is that all she says? LISTER: Just that, "He passed away peacefully in his Jeep." (Looking at the letter again) "...sleep."

Observation dome . RIMMER is staring into space. LISTER arrives. LISTER: Can't sleep? RIMMER: Hmmm. LISTER: No, me neither. 16

RIMMER: Hmmm. LISTER: I remember when my dad died you know. I was only six. I got loads of presents off everyone like it was Christmas. I remember wishing a couple more people would die so I could complete my Lego set. My grandma tried to explain, you know. She said he'd gone away and he wasn't coming back. So, I wanted to know where, like, you know. She said he was very happy and he'd gone to the same place as my goldfish. So I thought they'd flushed him down the bog. I thought he was just round the U bend, you know. I used to stuff food down, you know, and magazines and that for him to read. They took me to a child psychologist in the end because they found me with my head down the bowl reading him the football results. RIMMER: I knew he was dead. I mean they're all dead, aren't they? Just getting that letter makes it seem like it happened yesterday. LISTER: You never said much about him. RIMMER: No. LISTER: You must have been pretty close. RIMMER: Close. LISTER: Was it very close? RIMMER: Close. (Pause) I hated him. I detested his fat stupid guts, the pop-eyed, balding git. LISTER: What? RIMMER: He always wanted to join the Space Corps -- be an officer. But they wouldn't take him because he was an inch below regulation height. One inch. I had three brothers. When we were young he bought a traction machine so that he could stretch us. By the time my brother Frank was eleven he was six foot five. Every morning he'd measure us and if we hadn't grown, back on the rack. LISTER: Sounds like he had a screw loose. RIMMER: I don't think he had one screw fully tightened, to be perfectly honest with you. He had this fixation that we all had to get into the Space Corps. At meal times he'd ask us questions on astronavigation. If we got them wrong -- no food. LISTER: God, Rimmer, how did you cope with that? RIMMER: I didn't. I nearly died of malnutrition. LISTER: I had no idea. I thought you adored your parents. RIMMER: When I was fourteen I divorced them. LISTER: What? RIMMER: I took them to court. I got paid maintenance until employment age and access every fourth weekend to the family dog. LISTER: So why are you so completely blown away about him dying then? RIMMER: Oh, it doesn't mean to say I don't respect him, didn't look up to him. It was only natural -- he was my father. LISTER: There's nothing natural about your family, Rimmer. RIMMER: It's just I always wanted just once, just once, for him to say to me, "well done." LISTER: For what? RIMMER: For something, for anything. I wanted him to be proud of me, just once. And now ... 17

The CAT enters with a flourish, completely wrecking the serious moment. CAT: Wow!!! My stomach has been pumped and now I'm hungry. Hey, there you are! Hey man, I'm so hungry, I just have to eat. LISTER: Shhhhh. Not now, man. Rimmer's dad's died. CAT: I'd prefer chicken.

Sleeping quarters . RIMMER is watching the news tape. A hologrammatic newsreader is reading the news. Behind her is a backdrop: "Groovy Channel 27." NEWSREADER: Good evening. Here is the news on Friday, the 27th of Geldof. Archeologists near mount Sinai have discovered what is believed to be a missing page from the Bible. The page is currently being carbon dated in Bonn. If genuine it belongs at the beginning of the Bible and is believed to read "To my darling Candy. All characters portrayed within this book are fictitous and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental." The page has been universally condemned by church leaders. Europe. A terrorist representing the Revolutionary Working Front, a fanatical left wing group dedicated to eliminating the-- The CAT enters and sits on the end of RIMMER's bunk. RIMMER: Pause. (The recording stops.) CAT: About your father. If it's any help, he's in the ground now. Sure it's bad news for him. But on the other hand it's party time for all the little worms. (Wiggles him fingers.) RIMMER and LISTER just stare at him. CAT: (To LISTER) There's just no consoling him. (Leaves.) LISTER: Rimmer, listen -- me and the Cat were going to play a T-I-V. We wondered if you wanted to come? RIMMER shakes his head no. LISTER: Oh, come on! Holly says he can key you in. RIMMER shakes his head no again. LISTER: No? (LISTER waits a short while and leaves.) RIMMER: Play. NEWSREADER: --middle class, was arrested today. The man, Henri le Clerque, was attempting to poison the mineral spring in France which is the source of all the world's Perrier water. Had he succeeded experts believe the middle class would have been wiped out within three weeks. Techno news. The new sensation sweeping the solar system is the total immersion video game, "Better Than Life." Using the new senso lock feedback technology, "Better Than Life" is able to detect all your desires and fantasies and then make them come true. RIMMER sits up and begins to take note. NEWSREADER: So great is the appeal of "Better Than Life" when one store in New Tokyo ran out of stocks rubber nuclear weapons had to be deployed to disperse the crowd. Sport. England's underwater hockey team's tour of Titan--

Mail room. 18

RIMMER and the CAT are eagerly watching LISTER who is searching through the mail. RIMMER has completely changed his mind about the idea and is as keen as the rest of them. LISTER: "Better Than Life," here it is! RIMMER: Brilliant! CAT: Let's play! Hee hee hee. They all put on rather strange looking helmets and press large electrodes into their heads. A stupefied expression appears on their faces. Their heads roll alarmingly.

BTL corridor. Suddenly they are seen through a cloud of steam in a corridor. They pass through two sets of imposing double doors and appear on a beach.

BTL beach. LISTER: What sort of game is this? RIMMER: It's incredible. It's just like being here. LISTER: Yeesss. LISTER has seen Marilyn MONROE walking towards them. MONROE: Boop boop bi doo. She waves and walks past. RIMMER: That's whatshername, the actress from the 20th century. Err, Mary Magdelene. LISTER: It's Marilyn Monroe you gimp. (Nudges CAT.) I think she fancies you. CAT: What does that prove? She's not blind. Hey baby I'm a little busy right now. I'll catch you later ok? (Waves to her and she waves back.) RIMMER: It's absolutely incredible. Look, Look! RIMMER has seen a Napoleonic figure standing in the water and runs over to him. RIMMER: Excuse me. You're probably really busy but could I just say you are my all time favourite fascist dictator and I've read all your war diaries and I thought your Italian campaign was simply brilliant. Err, could you just sign this for me. Err, make it out to my good pal Arnie from your dear chum Napolean Bonaparte. It's not for me, it's for my sister Alison. Errm, we call her Arnie. RIMMER points behind Napoleans head as he signs the autograph and then goes to rejoin the others. LISTER: Napolean Bonaparte's autograph! Suddenly a man appears with them. He is the "Better Than Life" Guide. The crew look rather shocked by his sudden appearance. GUIDE: Gentlemen! Welcome to "Better Than Life." Well, you must be hungry and there's a restaurant just a couple of miles down the beach. LISTER: A couple of miles? How are we supposed to get there. GUIDE: Anyway you want. After all, this is "Better Than Life." LISTER: Any way we want? LISTER concentrates briefly and a powerful Harley Davidson appears on the beach before them. 19

LISTER: Hee hee, Yeah! Yo! LISTER and the CAT get on the bike and sunglasses appear in their hands. They put on the sunglasses, give RIMMER the finger and drive away, covering him in sand in the process. RIMMER concentrates and a clapped out Reliant Robin appears before him. RIMMER: I'm thinking too small. Think big! The Robin becomes a flashy Jaguar. RIMMER: That's more like it. Heh Heh!

BTL Jaguar. He gets into the car and turns on the radio. Martial type music comes forth. RIMMER salutes. He concentrates again and a woman appears in the seat next to him. RIMMER: McGruder! MCGRUDER: Hi Tiger! (Makes a seductive growl.) RIMMER: I bet you're wearing a peep-hole bra under that, eh? MCGRUDER: (Emphatically) Yes, I am! RIMMER growls and bites his hand. He seems rather pleased with the way things are going. RIMMER: We're only one thing away from perfection. RIMMER concentrate again and fluffy dice appear in the car. RIMMER: Bliss. MCGRUDER gives RIMMER a sexy look and he drives off along the beach.

BTL classy restaurant. The restaurant is full of colorful -- you might say strange, if they were poor -- people. CAT is blowing down straws and LISTER is throwing food about and trying to catch it in his mouth as usual. CAT: Where's Rimmer? I thought he was right behind us. The "Better Than Life" Guide appears and serves LISTER's food. GUIDE: Your caviar vindaloo, sir. Half rice, half chips and lots more bread and butter to follow. LISTER: I never thought I'd see the day when I could eat something as classy as this, you know? GUIDE: This is "Better Than Life," sir. (Turns to CAT.) And yours was the fish, sir? The CAT nods eagerly and starts to lick the mans jacket. LISTER: (Mouth full of food) What are you doing? CAT: I always do this when someone gives me food. The CAT continues and LISTER puts down his plate. The Guide puts a tank full of fish in front of the CAT. GUIDE: As ordered, sir. Small fish. Are you sure you wouldn't like your fish cooked. CAT: No, sir! I like my food to move! (Produces a fishing rod, dangles the hook in the tank and starts singing.) I'm going to eat you little fishy...

BTL restaraunt entry . RIMMER walks in dressed rather nattily like someone from some years ago 20 who has just been out for a drive in an expensive car, goggles included. GUIDE: (Saluting) Mister Rimmer, sir. They're on table K on the second terrace. RIMMER: Excellent. (He moves off to join them.)

BTL restaraunt table. CAT: I'm going to eat you little fishy. I'm going to eat you little fishy cos I like little fish. (Laughs and shakes salt into the tank.) LISTER looks on with an incredulous expression. RIMMER: Ah, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. I was driving along and suddenly there was McGruder. Well one thing led to another and... Good God! This is a great game! Twice in one lifetime, I'm turning into Hugh Heffner! (He starts to eat some bread.) LISTER: Rimmer, you can touch things! RIMMER: I know. Why do you think I was so late? (Makes gesture with fist and elbow -- you know the one I mean.) LISTER: Have you checked into your room yet? RIMMER: What room? LISTER: I mean, mine is absolutely brilliant. I've got this vibrating, leopard skin waterbed in the shape of a guitar. CAT: Yeah? Well you should take a look at my wardrobe. It's so big it crosses an international time zone. When it's three o' clock where my shirts are it's seven in the morning for my socks. (Nods in a smug manner and goes back to fishing.) A voice off stage is then heard calling. RIMMER looks round, thinking someone is showing off. CAPTAIN: (From offscreen) Admiral! LISTER: But what about my electonic lavvy? I mean this thing comes when you call it, take your trousers down, does everything for you. It's just so stylish. CAPTAIN: Admiral! RIMMER: Who is that? Just because some hoity-toity, gonad brain gimp knows an Admiral, does he have to broadcast it? CAPTAIN: Admiral Rimmer, sir! RIMMER: (Makes yawning noise.) Awwwww, yawn-o-rama city. We know an Admiral. Come on. The owner of the voice now appears and does a RIMMER-style salute. He is in a Captain's uniform and remains at salute through the following speech. CAPTAIN: Admiral Rimmer, sir. Field Marshall Clifton sends his compliments and wonders if you would care to join him for port and cigars. RIMMER: Errr, I think there must be some mistake. I'm not an Admiral. Suddenly RIMMER is an Admiral. He is now wearing a uniform with more decorations than the Cistine Chapel. RIMMER: I love this game! Gentlemen, do excuse me. RIMMER gets up and goes to join the Field Marshall and friends. The Guide reappears with a champagne bucket which he sets down on the table. GUIDE: Dom Perignon '54, sir. (He brings out a beer glass and puts it 21

down.) In a pint mug, as requested. LISTER: Thank you, my man. LISTER drinks the bubbly in one go, spilling a good deal of it and puts the empty glass on his head. The CAT looks on. LISTER: That's a good year.

BTL dining room. We switch scenes to the Field Marshal's party. RIMMER is sat at the head of the table smoking a cigar. Everyone is laughing good naturedly. RIMMER: So, I said to Hollister ... well, I can't actually remember exactly what I said to him. But it was one of the most enormously cruel and frighteningly witty put downs ever. The military men look at each other for a moment. But this is "Better Than Life," so they all burst into laughter. A young cadet comes up to RIMMER. CADET: Sir, I know it's a most awful bore but, err, would you mind just signing this. He produces a book and pen. RIMMER: What's that, you little pipsqueak? We now see that the book has a colour photo of RIMMER on the front in full uniform. RIMMER: (Reading the cover) "My Incredible Career, by Admiral A. J. Rimmer." CADET: I've read it eighteen times, sir. RIMMER signs the book and hands it back to the cadet. RIMMER: There you go, laddo. CADET: Oh thank you, sir. Gosh, I'll be the envy of the academy. RIMMER stops as behind the Field Marshall and another officer he sees his father. RIMMER: Father. RIMMER'S DAD: Son. RIMMER: What are you doing here? RIMMER'S DAD: I'm sorry to barge in on you and your, err, officer chummies, but-- RIMMER: Yes? RIMMER'S DAD: I just wanted to tell you-- RIMMER: Yes? RIMMER'S DAD: I just wanted to say-- RIMMER: Yes? RIMMER'S DAD: I just wanted to say-- (pause) You're a total smeghead! RIMMER: (Looking shocked) What? This isn't my fantasy! CAT: (Coming into view) No, it's mine. (The CAT steals RIMMER's cigar and exits.)

BTL golf course. LISTER and the CAT are playing golf. LISTER is dressed normally but the CAT has a full golfing costume on. LISTER is not playing with much style and gives the ball a whack. LISTER: Yess, Hooooo. 22

CAT: Hey move over man. I want to plant my egg. (Puts the ball down.) LISTER: It's called a ball. CAT: Are you trying to tell me how to play this game? You think cats never played golf? Ok! The CAT takes a big swing, spins round three times and throws the golf club far into the distance. LISTER dives for cover. The CAT hops on one leg watching the flight of the club. We next see the pair pushing their golf bags up a hill and making car noises. LISTER: I'm really thirsty you know. CAT: Yeah? LISTER: Yeah. The Guide comes into shot carrying a large drink with a firework in it. GUIDE: Perhaps a banana bomb, sir. LISTER: Thank you, my man. The Guide lights the rocket and it shoots up out of the glass. They laugh and carry on walking. BTL golf course green. A golf ball comes rolling onto it and rolls near to the hole. A golf club then comes flying onto the green as well, landing nearby. LISTER and the CAT walk into view and so does HOLLY's monitor from the other side. HOLLY: Alright! What's happening, dudes? CAT: We're having a really nice time.

BTL country road. A heavily loaded, small, car drives into view down a country lane. We hear kids screaming and see RIMMER at the wheel. The car stops, it seems to be in trouble. RIMMER and a woman get out. They start arguing. We see there are several kids running around and the woman is pregnant again. LISTER: Rimmer! What happened to you. RIMMER: Lister. Ah this a great game lister. I couldn't be happier. CAT: Who are all those guys? RIMMER: It's McGruder. She got pregnant so this morning she made me marry her and this afternoon we had seven kids. Bliss. LISTER: Where's your E type? RIMMER: It was too impractical. With all the kids and everything. LISTER: Rimmer you fantasised that you had seven kids and a mortgage? RIMMER: (Grabbing hold of LISTER) Help! MCGRUDER: Arnold! Where are the nappy sacks? RIMMER is now wearing very old clothes and drinking from a bottle wrapped in a paper bag. RIMMER: My brain's rebelled. It just won't accept nice things happening to me. It just keeps fantasising horribleness. RIMMER slides down the wall. Suddenly an official looking man appears. TAXMAN: Mister Rimmer? RIMMER: (Weakly) Yes. TAXMAN: Mister Arnold Judas Rimmer? 23

RIMMER: Yes. TAXMAN: (Smiles) Outland Revenue, sir! RIMMER: Oh my God! TAXMAN: This is a demand for immediate payment. RIMMER: Eighteen thousand? TAXMAN: If you are unable to pay, sir, I am instructed by the Revenue to break both your legs and pull off your thumbs-- (twitches) --sir. RIMMER: What am I going to do? I'm broke. LISTER: I'll pay. I'll pay. I'll pay. (Looks through pockets but can't find any cash.) Where's all my money gone? RIMMER: Oh no! I just fantasised it all away. This is getting worse. Help me. CAT: Ah! Don't move! A huge, black, furry spider with big teeth just crawled up your trouser leg. RIMMER: I know. I just put it there. It's the thing I'm afraid of most in the whole world -- a tarantula crawling up my trousers. LISTER: Rimmer, this is getting out of hand. RIMMER: Do you think I don't know that. Ah! he's past my knee. He's into my boxers. LISTER: Close your eyes and wish it away. RIMMER: I can't! LISTER: Concentrate man. RIMMER: I can't!

BTL beach. A sudden change of scene via some form of reality shift. We pull back from a close up of RIMMER to find the crew buried in sand up to their necks. Even HOLLY is involved in monitor form. CAT: What's he done now? RIMMER: I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. LISTER: What's going on? RIMMER: Our faces have been smeared with jam and we're about to be eaten alive by killer ants. CAT: Why? RIMMER: Why not? HOLLY: Oh dear. You can't take him anywhere can you? (His monitor image is also covered in jam.) LISTER: You've ruined this, Rimmer. RIMMER: We're going to die. We're going to die and it's all my fault. ALL: Aaaaaarrghhh!!!!!

Red Dwarf Mail room. Suddenly we are back on Red Dwarf. Everyone removes the TIV helmets. LISTER: You're a total dinglebat, aren't you? RIMMER: I'm sorry. CAT: Yeah! We were having a great time until you came along with your diseased brain. LISTER: You're a bozo! 24

LISTER picks up another piece of mail and they all walk out. RIMMER: I can't help it, nice things just don't happen to me. CAT: Hey, what's that? LISTER: It's a letter and it's for Rimmer. (LISTER opens it and reads) "Dear Sir, Due to a computer error you were wrongly informed that you had failed the astronavigation exam. In fact you passed with honours and you are hereby promoted to navigation officer first class. We enclose your pips and insignia." Smegging hell! LISTER and the CAT look disgusted and walk off. LISTER: Who said you was a loser, eh? Who said nice things never happen to you? RIMMER does a big salute. The door to the cupboard then opens and the taxman comes out carrying a big hammer. TAXMAN: I did! LISTER: Oh no, we're still in the game! TAXMAN: You certainly are. Now, what about my eighteen grand? Come on, it's bone crunching time, me old china. Now, where's those little thumbies? He puts RIMMER's hand down on the table and gives it a big thump with the hammer. The film freezes. Final caption in big letters:G A M E O V E R

RED DWARF Series II Episode 3, "Thanks for the Memory"

View of space. HOLLY: (In space) Three million years from Earth, the mining ship Red Dwarf. Its crew: Dave Lister, the last human being alive; Arnold Rimmer, a hologram of his dead bunkmate; and a creature who evolved from the ship's cat. Message ends. (Reappearing) Additional: supplies are plentiful. We have enough food and drink to last 30,000 years, although we have run out of Shake n' Vac. Additional additional: Last week we found a planet with a breathable atmosphere.

Barren planet. We see the surface of a bleak planet with a sun and stars in the background and pan across it to where there appears to be a rock concert in progress. LISTER and the CAT are playing and dancing exuberantly. LISTER has a guitar and the skutters are playing on keyboards. RIMMER is in a structure labelled "Hologrammatic Projection Cage" and seems to be enjoying it. HOLLY: We're grooving tonight! Ahead groove factor five. Yeah! (A disco type light starts flashing under his monitor.) LISTER: Hang on everybody, hang on! 25

LISTER stops playing and the music carries on. He goes to take a pan off the fire and turns off the music. LISTER: The sausages are done. HOLLY: It's the business innit? It's nice to get out once in a while, stretch your cables. RIMMER: (Very slurred) I can't understand it. I've had so much to drink and it hasn't even afflicted me. I'm not in the least bit tiddly. LISTER: Oh yeah? Why are you dancing then? CAT: Ha! You call that dancing? I've seen people on fire move better than that! HOLLY: We'd better be going. The moons'll be setting in a bit. LISTER: Whoa, Whoa! OK then! A toast. (Raises cup.) Gentlemen, and skutters, we are gathered here today to celebrate the anniversery of Mr Arnold Rimmer's death. RIMMER: (Belches and looks ill.) Right on baby. LISTER: And for this very special occasion I have baked -- a cake. LISTER uncovers the cake. It is covered in icing, with a candle in the middle. HOLLY: What's that then? LISTER: It's in the shape of a spanner, Holly, cos he was a technician. HOLLY: Well that's very apt that is. If he'd been a postman you'd have baked it in the shape of an envelope I suppose? LISTER: Yeah! HOLLY: Gordon Bennett! It's lucky he's not a gynaecologist. LISTER: To Rimmer! (Raises cup at arms length.) RIMMER: To me! RIMMER mimes drinking a glass of something and appears to get a kick from it. They all start singing. RIMMER is a bit unsure of the words, probably due to his state of inebriation. ALL: Happy deathday to you! happy deathday to you! Happy deathday, dear Rimmer! Happy deathday to you! Back in one of the Blue Midgets, LISTER is trying to get it moving. ALL: (Singing) Show me the way to go home. I'm tired and I want to go to bed... We see them from the outside flying off into space towards RED DWARF. RIMMER: Are you sure you're alright to drive this? LISTER: Yeah. (Suddenly sliping it into reverse) Oops! ALL: I had a little drink about an hour ago to celebrate Rimmer's death. (Breakdown into laughter.)

Sleeping quarters. The crew is now back on RED DWARF. RIMMER is sprawled out on his bunk and LISTER is doing a jigsaw. LISTER: What time is it? RIMMER crawls unsteadily to the clock and peers at it blearily. He is clearly suffering the awful after-effects of drinking. RIMMER: Saturday. 26

LISTER: Is that the best you can do? RIMMER: There are some numbers next to it, but they could be anything. LISTER: Do you know what I fancy right now? RIMMER: A big, fat woman with thighs the size of a hippo's. LISTER: No, I want a triple fried egg butty with chili sauce and chutney. RIMMER: (Managing to sit down in a chair.) Me too. LISTER: Well no problem then. Nothing's too good for the deathday boy. RIMMER: Correct! (Punches air.) LISTER: Hol, Hol! HOLLY appears on screen with a nightcap on. LISTER: Hol, give us something to eat. HOLLY: You what? I'm jiggered man. LISTER: Oh come on. You don't sleep. HOLLY: Course I do. I've got to offline. I can't keep up my full tilt, full power, red hot, maximum pace all the time. I've got to take the odd breather, haven't I? RIMMER: I want a triple fried egg sandwich with ... LISTER: With chili sauce and chutney. HOLLY: You what? LISTER: It's a state of the art sarny. HOLLY: It's the state of the floor I'm worried about. Alright, OK. RIMMER holds up his hand and the much discussed food item appears in it. LISTER: Wow, trust me! RIMMER takes a bite and a succession of expressions are seen on his face. He ends up at something like a mixture of pain, horror and shock. He may be drunk but he's still got pain receptors. RIMMER: I feel like I'm having a baby! LISTER: It's good innit? RIMMER: It's incredible. Where did you get the recipe from? LISTER: I can't remember. I think it was a book on bacteriological warfare. RIMMER: It's like a cross between food and bowel surgery. LISTER: (Nodding) It's well naughty. The trouble is you've got to eat it before the bread dissolves. RIMMER: I could never invent a sandwich like this, Lister. You see all the ingredients are wrong. The fried eggs: wrong; the chutney: wrong. The chili sauce: all wrong. But put them together and somehow it works. It becomes right. It's you -- this sandwich, Lister, is you. LISTER: What are you saying to me, Rimmer? RIMMER: You're wrong, right? All your ingredients are wrong. You're slobby, you've got no sense of discipline, you're the only man ever to get his money back from the Odour Eater people, but people like you, don't you see? That's why you're a fried egg, chili, chutney sandwich. Now me ... now me ... All the ingredients are right. I'm disciplined, I'm organised, I'm dedicated to my career, I've always got a pen. Result? Total smeghead despised by everyone except the ship's parrot. And that's only because we haven't got one. Why? Why is that? LISTER: I suppose it's because you ARE a total smeghead. 27

RIMMER: But I'm not! I'm a nice guy -- I'm a goodie. LISTER: No, Rimmer, see the trouble is you've never got time for people. You're too busy trying to be successful. It's all midnight revision and up, up, up the ziggurat lickety spit. (Salutes in a silly way.) RIMMER: I have got time for people. What about all the time I spent licking up to Todhunter even though he was a total gimp? And Captain Hollister? Mr fat bastard 2044. I went out of my way to simp around him. LISTER: Rimmer, that's not having time for people. During the following exchange they speak faster and end up both speaking at the same time until LISTER interjects forcefully. RIMMER: Do you know how many times in my entire life I made love? LISTER: No, and I don't want to know. RIMMER: I want to tell you. LISTER: I don't want to know. RIMMER: No, but I want to tell you. LISTER: No, I don't want to know. RIMMER: I want to tell you. I'm going... I am going to tell you. I want to tell you. LISTER: (Forcefully) Listen! Listen, Rimmer. If you tell me, right, you'll wake up in the morning. You'll have your hang over and you'll feel like death and you'll walk up to the mirror and you'll look in the mirror and you'll remember and you'll go, "Ahahahahah!!" (Sticks his fist in his mouth.) See it's not worth it, I don't want to know and believe me you don't want to tell me. RIMMER: (Holds up one finger.) Once. LISTER: Smeg! RIMMER: One time only. LISTER: (With ears covered) Don't tell me this, Rimmer. You'll want to kill yourself in the morning. RIMMER: Yvonne McGruder. A single, brief liason with the ship's female boxing champion. March the sixteenth, seven thirty one PM to seven forty three PM. LISTER: Please. RIMMER: Twelve minutes. LISTER: (Losing patience) Please! RIMMER: And that includes the time it took to eat the pizza. LISTER: Please, Rimmer! RIMMER: In my entire life I have spent more time being sick. LISTER: So, I mean, you haven't met the right girl yet. RIMMER: (With overdone sarcasm) No, I haven't, Lister. I haven't met the right girl and some just might say, (wags finger) given the fact that the human race no longer exists, coupled with the fact that I have passed on, some just might say that I'm leaving it a little bit on the late side. LISTER: Well you made a decision, didn't you? I mean you chose your career over your personal life. RIMMER: Yes, I did. I did, didn't I? Pearls of wisdom there from Mr fried egg, chili, chutney, sandwich face. (Seriously) Well, I'll tell 28

you something, Lister. I'll tell you something. I'd trade it all in -- all of it. My pips, my long-service medals, my swimming certificates, my telescope, my shoe trees. I'd trade everything in to be loved and to have been loved. LISTER is still fiddling with the jigsaw but it's obvious that RIMMER's speech has touched a chord. RIMMER: (Starts singing in a reedy voice in a pathetic kind of way) I'm a little lamb, lost in the wood, maybe I could, really be good, with someone to watch over me. RIMMER goes and lies down on his bunk. LISTER watches him. RIMMER: That was going to be our song. But I never found anyone to share it with. So now it's just MY song. LISTER: (Fiddling with jigsaw) Another bit of sky, that's a star. RIMMER starts making high pitched crying type noises. LISTER gets up and leaves.

Sleeping quarters. The next morning. LISTER is asleep in the top bunk. We descend to see RIMMER, in his "home sweet home" pajamas, wake up. RIMMER gets up and start doing his exercises to music provided by himself. Suddenly, memories of the previous night come flooding back. He sees a picture of him drinking, but carries on exercising. He sees himself eating the sandwich and shrugs. He then remembers talking with LISTER: he stops, raises one finger and sticks his fist in his mouth. He sits back down on the bunk with an anguished look. LISTER: Ah, me foot! I must have gone to sleep on it! Oooh! RIMMER: (Jumps up) Gah! you were really putting it away last night, Lister. You really fell for my joke, didn't you? LISTER: Oh god, it's agony! RIMMER: Ah, that McGruder gag -- fancy falling for that, eh? (Pause) I'll give you my telescope, anything. Please god, don't tell anyone. LISTER groans and pulls away the blanket. He discovers that his foot is in plaster. They both look shocked. LISTER: Have you done that? RIMMER: When did you do that? LISTER: I didn't! I just went to bed and I've woken up with this. RIMMER: When did you finish the jigsaw? LISTER: I didn't. HOLLY comes on the screen looking a bit cross. HOLLY: Oi. Whose been messing with my star charts! Here I am trying to do the comprehensive, nay, definitive A-Z of the entire universe with street names, post offices, and little steeples and everything and some git's been fiddling with it. LISTER: It's not us! The CAT storms in. CAT: OK, which one of you chimpanzees did this? CAT puts a foot on the table and points at it. It is also in plaster. HOLLY: Look there's a perfectly logical explanation for everything. With the possible exception of little Jimmy Osmond. 29

RIMMER: Who? LISTER: Hang on, today's Sunday, right? RIMMER: So? LISTER: Well, this clock; this clock says, "Thursday," and that clock says, "Thursday." CAT: And my foot says, "Get the person who did this to my foot." LISTER: (Looks through a book) Four pages have been torn out of my diary. RIMMER snaps his fingers and points around the room. RIMMER: Somehow we've lost the last four days. CAT: Did you look behind the fridge? If you lose something it's nearly always there. RIMMER: Aliens! LISTER: What? CAT: What are you talking about, grease stain? RIMMER: It's a well documented phenomenon. They kidnap you, give you a mind probe, erase your memory, and put you back. LISTER: OK, aliens came aboard. RIMMER: Without question. LISTER: They broke my leg. RIMMER: For some reason. CAT: They broke MY leg. RIMMER: Right. HOLLY: And then they did a jigsaw. RIMMER: Right. HOLLY: Well, that's cleared that up then. RIMMER: Look, you're not thinking alien. That's what aliens are: alien. They do alien things. Things that are... (shrugs) alien. Maybe this is the way they communicate. CAT: By breaking legs? LISTER: And doing jigsaws? RIMMER: Why should they speak the way we do? They're aliens. LISTER: OK, professor, what does it mean? RIMMER: Maybe, maybe, OK? Breaking your leg hurts like hell, OK? "Hel." They do it below the knee, "lo." "Hel-lo," gettit? They do it twice -- twice, "two." "Hello two." And the jigsaw must mean "you." "Hello to you." CAT: I wouldn't like to be around when one of these suckers is making a speech! (He limps out.) LISTER: Hang on -- the black box. Holly, the black box will have recorded everything won't it? HOLLY: Yeah, hang on -- I'll fish it out. (His image disappears briefly and reappears.) It's gone! It's been half-inched. Wait a minute let me think about this. It gives off a signal. We can trace it.

Model shot. Pan past the Blue Midget, making a funny noise.

Blue Midget. We go inside to join RIMMER, LISTER and the CAT. 30

LISTER: It's the gearbox, man. I'm telling you. RIMMER: Nothing yet. LISTER: This is impossible. It could be anywhere. It's like trying to find a fart in a jacuzzi. RIMMER: Look! Down there on that moon. They stare at the screen.

Barren planet. We draw in closer to a bleak landscape. We see LISTER and the CAT walking on it. LISTER: Are you getting a picture now? RIMMER: Yeah but the quality's terrible. It's like watching Spanish television. LISTER: Oh my god! CAT: What the hell is that? LISTER: Smegorama! Err, HOLLY! Errm, start the engines, warm her up. Keep her ticking over, yeah? RIMMER: Err, what is it? LISTER: It's a footprint the size of a surfboard. CAT: (Measuring it out.) I don't believe the size of these feet. Can you imagine the problems this guy must have trying to get fashionable shoes? LISTER: I wonder if it's true what they about the size of your feet? I mean, if it is this guy could probably go to a fancy dress party as a petrol pump. RIMMER: I think you should come back. LISTER: There's more of them. They lead round this corner. RIMMER: So, a surfboard-foot sized monster came aboard, did a jigsaw, drained our memories and broke a couple of legs. So what? "Forgive and forget" is what I say. LISTER: This I don't believe! It's a gravestone. (Reading it) "To the memory..." (trying to make it out) "To the memory of Lise Yates." RIMMER: Who's Lise Yates? LISTER: You're not going to believe this, but I used to go out with a girl called Lise Yates. It's only shallow, the black box is buried in the grave. (He picks it up.)

Blue Midget. They open the box and remove the recording. HOLLY: Right, it's loaded. LISTER: Well play it, sam. The words "Black Box Recording, Jupiter Mining Corporation Ship Red Dwarf" come on screen followed by HOLLY. HOLLY: Nice looking bloke. TAPE: I don't know whether anyone will ever find this, but if they do and it's you Dave, or you Arnold, don't ever play it. Some things are best left buried. LISTER: Why have you frozen him, Hol? 31

HOLLY: You heard what he said. Knows what he's talking about, that dude. LISTER: Come on, Hol, from Saturday night.

HOLLY plays the recording and RIMMER appears telling LISTER how many times in his life he's made love. The CAT looks interested.

RIMMER: Yes, well we all remember this bit. Spin on, spin on, spin on! The recording goes into fast forward. The CAT is disappointed. He signals to LISTER behind RIMMER's back. CAT: (Silently) How many? LISTER: (Silently, pointing at RIMMER) Him? CAT: (Silently) Yes! LISTER: (Silently) No, no. The CAT makes a "Tell me" kind of gesture. LISTER laughs and holds up one finger. So does the CAT and points at RIMMER who is oblivious of the whole thing, he's staring at the screen. CAT: (Silently) Him. (Loudly) That Many? LISTER and the CAT look busy with the controls as RIMMER turns to glare at them. The recording has reached the point where RIMMER is making sad noises, just after his singing. On screen we see LISTER leave.

Red Dwarf corridor. We are now in flashback mode. The flashing word REPLAY appears at the top right of the screen. We see LISTER walking down a corridor towards camera with the CAT who has a hair net on.

CAT: This better be good. I was sleeping, and sleeping's my third favourite thing! And you come and wake me up this time of night.

They walk into a square room with wall to wall monitors, on which various pictures of Arnie can be seen. A sign on the door reads, "No unauthorised entry."

CAT: What is this place? LISTER: It's the hologram simulation suite. This is the room that creates Rimmer. CAT: Have we come to blow this room up? LISTER: Look, those are his dreams and everything there. (Fiddles with controls.) Look, that's what he's dreaming right at the moment.

We see RIMMER in a top hat and dinner jacket carrying a cane and singing the song he sang earlier. We pull back to see he has no trousers on. The watchers laugh.

LISTER: I'm going to give Rimmer the best present he will ever get.

LISTER takes of his hat and puts on a helmet connected to the console by a wire. He starts typing at the console and sees the word LOADING come up on the screen. 32

CAT: What are you doing with that? LISTER: I'm recording my memory. CAT: Your entire memory? LISTER: Yeah, everything. Everywhere I've been, everything I've learnt, my entire knowledge. (The words LOADING COMPLETE come up almost instantly.) Right, that's it. (He takes off the helmet.) I'm going to give Rimmer a love affair. I'm going to take eight months out of my memory and I'm going to paste it into his. So everything that's happened to me he's going to think happened to him. CAT: You're going to give him one of your old girlfriends? LISTER: I'm going to give him Lise Yates.

LISTER presses more keys and they stare at the screen. LISTER covers the CAT's eyes but he takes the hand away. A rather pretty woman is on screen running and laughing. She dives to the ground.

YATES: God, I love you Dave, I love you so much. LISTER: (On memory recording) And I love you Lise. LISTER: A few minor adjustments. (Presses some keys and the scene replays.) YATES: God, I love you Rimmer, I love you so much. LISTER: (On memory recording) And I love you Lise. LISTER: Change the voice. (Presses more keys and we see it again.) YATES: God, I love you Rimmer, I love you so much. RIMMER: (On memory recording) And I love you Lise. LISTER: And that's it. CAT: And when he wakes up he'll think all this happened to him? LISTER: Yeah, the whole eight months. CAT: Man, that's a fine present. (LISTER nods.) He was probably only expecting a tie.

LISTER keeps keying, we see RIMMER asleep and enter his dreams via a heart shaped zoom. He is walking with Lise, drinking from a beer can and smoking. He looks a real slob. RIMMER wakes, looking happy. He goes to sleep again.

Some time later LISTER hears music, jumps in the air, and clicks his heels. He walks into the room to see RIMMER dancing to the music.

LISTER: You're in a good mood. RIMMER: Why not Listy? When life's so good? (He makes A-OK sign and snaps his fingers.)

RIMMER seems to have changed somehow. He seems more normal and less like the RIMMER we all know. For one thing his shirt is crumpled and unbuttoned. He seems relaxed and confident.

LISTER: Why is life so good? (Opens a beer.) RIMMER: (Lying on bunk) You wouldn't understand, Lister, you've never been in love. LISTER: I have! RIMMER: Oh, not real love, Lister, not like I have. Not fireworks-in- the-sky, from-here-to-eternity, rolling-naked-on-the-beach kind of love. Not like me and Lise. LISTER: So, who's Lise? (Smiles to himself.) RIMMER: Never you mind, Lister. Someone who was absolutely nuts about me, that's all you need to know. LISTER: Fine, if you want to keep it to yourself. RIMMER: All I'm saying is, from now on call me "Tiger." (Growls.) LISTER: An old girlfriend, was she? Tiger. RIMMER: (Gets up.) What a crazy, crazy year that was. The first three months I was at Saturn Tech doing a maintenance course. Then for absolutely no reason I suddenly moved to Liverpool. I drank too much, I smoked too much, I became a total slob. I met Lise, of course. I even started to eat my own toenail clippings.

Behind him LISTER is doing this as RIMMER speaks, but doesn't seem to notice.

RIMMER: My tastes in music radically changed. I stopped adoring Mantovani and got into Rastabilly Skank. Crazy! LISTER: Well, you know, you were in love. You go a bit crazy. RIMMER: It was weird. I was absolutely nuts about her but yet I started to treat her really badly. LISTER: No you didn't! RIMMER: I did! I started to give her some wishy washy twaddle about not wanting to get tied down. LISTER: But you were young! You didn't want to settle down. You wanted to bum around and have a laugh. RIMMER: But I hate bumming around and having a laugh. LISTER: But that's what you're like when you're young. RIMMER: But I wasn't like that when I was young, so why did I say those things? LISTER: But, I mean, she wanted you to have a career. (Spits out the word career.) RIMMER: That's what I'd always dreamt of, so why did I finish it with her? LISTER: Because, you wanted to play the field. RIMMER: That's right. I told her I wanted to play the field. (Wistfully) I told her that. I must have been mad. She was great and she thought I was great. LISTER: (With a strange look) Yeah, man, you're right. You were mad. RIMMER: She was a lover and a friend. LISTER: And beautiful. RIMMER: Gorgeous. LISTER: Great sense of humour. 34

RIMMER: Terrific. LISTER: The sex was fantastic. RIMMER: Amazing sex. LISTER: Brilliant sex. RIMMER: Oh, primo dynamite sex! LISTER: Fantastic sex! Stupendous sex! RIMMER: Lister! LISTER: The way she used to-- Oh... RIMMER: Lister! LISTER: Oh, sex. Brilliant sex. RIMMER: Lister, Lister! How do you know? LISTER: I'm just having a guess.

Blue Midget.

We come out of flashback. The crew are watching the recording.

RIMMER: (On the tape) Kindly don't. No one will ever know how beautiful the relationship between me and Lise Yates was. RIMMER: How could you do this to me? It's the most heart breakingly tragic thing it's ever been my misfortune to witness. CAT: Popcorn? (Offers it to RIMMER who declines but LISTER takes some.) LISTER: Look, I'm sorry, man. I mean, obviously I thought I was doing you a favour. HOLLY: (Appearing on a monitor) What's all this got to do with jigsaws, broken legs, and Godzilla-size footprints, eh?

LISTER shakes his head in bewilderment.

12 Int. Red Dwarf corridor.

We go into flashback again. The word REPLAY appears on screen as it did last time. On the recording we see RIMMER striding angrily down a corridor punching the air. He walks into the room where LISTER is again working on the jigsaw.

RIMMER: Right, smeg brain, prepare to die! LISTER: Eh? RIMMER: I found the letters. LISTER: What letters? RIMMER: Don't give me "What letters?" The letters. LISTER: WHAT letters? RIMMER: You went out with Lise Yates too. I found the letters she sent you. LISTER: Oh, smeg! RIMMER: All the time she was going out with me she must have been seeing you as well, behind my back. And what is more, to pour salt into the wound, you used to take her to the exact same places I used to take her and do the exact same things. 35

LISTER: Rimmer, it's not what it looks like. RIMMER: That woman is unbelievable. We spent a night in a hotel in Southport and made love six times. According to her letter you were in the exact same hotel and you made love six times too. LISTER: Listen. RIMMER: Twelve times a night? What is wrong with the woman? She's sex mad! LISTER: Listen! RIMMER: It's a good job you were there. If I'd been on my own I'd have been dead within a week. But it doesn't make sense. I mean, she loved me. LISTER: Listen, listen. She wasn't going out with us both at the same time. RIMMER: Come on, I've checked the dates. LISTER: She wasn't going out with you at all. RIMMER: She ... She didn't go out with me at all? LISTER: No, you've never even met her. RIMMER: Is that the best you can do, Lister? That's below feeble. LISTER: I went down to the hologram simulation suite and I gave you eight months of my memory. RIMMER: What? LISTER: It was a present. RIMMER: You gave me eight months of your memory, as a present? LISTER: (Nodding) Yeah. RIMMER: That's why I was an orphan, even though my parents were alive. That's why I had my appendix out ... twice. LISTER: I thought it was what you needed. RIMMER: You've destroyed me, Lister. The woman I loved most in the whole world didn't love me, she loved you. LISTER: Rimmer, listen. (RIMMER leaves silently.) Rimmer, listen. Rimmer! Oh Smeg! (He goes to sit down at the jigsaw looking upset.) CAT: You should have bought him a tie.

13 Int. Observation dome.

RIMMER is standing alone in the observation dome, staring into space. LISTER climbs the stairs to join him.

LISTER: Come on, Rimmer, you've experienced love. It made you more confident, more secure. RIMMER: It didn't happen. I never even met her. LISTER: It did happen. I mean, you fell in love with her in a way I never did. She's yours now and nothing can take her away from you. RIMMER: That time she stuck her tongue down my ear. It wasn't my ear at all -- it was your ear. The woman I loved most in the whole world had her tongue down your ear. The most romantic thing I've ever had down my ear is a Johnson's baby bud. LISTER: Come on, as far as you're concerned you had a love affair, right? Which was wonderful, yeah? And for some reason that you can't 36

understand it all went hideously wrong. Well, so what? Join the club, bucko. It's just you, me, and everybody else in the world. RIMMER: I don't want to feel like this any more. LISTER: So, so you're in pain, yeah? I know, but Rimmer, if you go through life without feeling, if you go through life never experiencing, you're no better than a jellyfish. No better than a bank manager. RIMMER: I don't want this feeling any more. I want my own memory back. LISTER: OK, OK, OK. I'll erase the last four days. The incident will never have happened. RIMMER: But you'll know about it! LISTER: Well I'll erase my memory from Sunday too. RIMMER: And the Cat's and Holly's. LISTER: Fine, if they agree. RIMMER: And what about the black box. LISTER: (Sighs.) I'll destroy it. RIMMER: It's indestructible. LISTER: OK, I'll shoot it off into space. RIMMER: Someone might find it. LISTER: OK, OK. We'll bury it. We'll bury it on some planet, yeah?

14 Ext. Barren planet.

The same bleak landscape as before appears before us. We see the black box buried in its shallow grave. RIMMER is watching as LISTER and the CAT carry a large slab.

LISTER: I'm going to drop it, I'm going to drop it! Put it down man, put it down! (They drop the stone heavily.) CAT: Why does he want a grave stone? LISTER: He said he just wanted something somewhere. So it didn't, like, disappear.

They pick up the stone again and carry it on a bit. The crater it left behind looks rather like a footprint. After a short time they drop it again and this time it lands on their feet.

LISTER: Aaaagggghh! My foot! I've broken my foot! It's broken! CAT: Help me find my toes.

15 Ext. Blue Midget.

Jetting back to RED DWARF.

16 Int. Sleeping Quarters.

We are still in flashback. RIMMER is lying on the bunk. LISTER and the CAT enter. LISTER looks tired.

LISTER: OK, that's it. (He picks up his diary and tears out some pages.) Let's go and erase our memories.

They all troop out, or limp out in some cases. LISTER stops and puts the final piece into the jigsaw. The picture is of the RED DWARF in space. We zoom into it.

RED DWARF Series II Episode 4, "Stasis Leak"

View of space. HOLLY: (in space) Three million years from Earth, the mining ship Red Dwarf. Its crew: Dave Lister, the last human being alive; Arnold Rimmer, a hologram of his dead bunkmate; and a creature who evolved from the ship's cat. Message ends. (Reappearing) Additional: On our journey back to Earth, we have encountered many strange and bizarre things. Only last month we came across a moon which was shapedexactly like Marylin Monroe's bottom. We flew around that one a couple of times.

CAPTAIN's office. Past. LISTER, RIMMER, and CAPTAIN HOLLISTER are present. The CAPTAIN is talking on the phone. He looks tired. LISTER is lounging, feet up, in the office's other chair. RIMMER is standing to one side, at stiff attention. CAPTAIN: Okay. (puts phone down) Rimmer, make this quick. RIMMER: Sir, I wish to place on record that third technician Lister, David-- CAPTAIN: Get on with it, Rimmer. RIMMER: --smuggled aboard the mining vessel Red Dwarf a consignment of a hallucinogenic fungi "Titan Mushrooms," more popularly known to the Space Beatnik community as "Freaky Fungus." CAPTAIN: Is this true? LISTER: Erm, sort of. RIMMER: And on the morning of Febuary the 26th, at 0800 hrs, did engage in conversation with second technician Rimmer, Arnold J.-- CAPTAIN: For crying out loud, Rimmer! RIMMER: --the outcome of which was a proposal by the aforementioned Lister to the aforementioned Rimmer to cook him breakfast. CAPTAIN: Okay, I'm getting the picture. RIMMER: Breakfast comprised of two eggs, three rashers of bacon, a grilled tomato, two sausages, a small portion of fried potatoes... and a large quantity of mushrooms. Having consumed this repast, second technician Rimmer, Arnold J. experienced what can only be described as 38

a voyage to trip-out city. To whit, a major hallucinogenic fit. CAPTAIN: Lister, is this true? LISTER: No, sir. I'm sure it was only one egg. RIMMER: The aforementioned Rimmer, to whit, me, then attended inspection parade. He was totally naked except for a pair of mock-leather driving gloves and some blue swimming goggles. Under the influence of this psychadelic breakfast he went on to attack two senior officers, believing them to be giraffes who were armed and dangerous. CAPTAIN: You'd better have a good reason for this, Lister. LISTER: I have, sir. CAPTAIN: Why'd you do it? LISTER: I thought it'd be a laugh. CAPTAIN: Right. Two weeks PD, Lister. Dismissed. RIMMER: With respect, sir, the penalty for a crime of this nature is fifteen years imprisonment. CAPTAIN: Rimmer, I sentenced this man. RIMMER: Two weeks? CAPTAIN: That's enough. RIMMER: Two smegging weeks? CAPTAIN: I said, that is enough! RIMMER: With respect, sir, you've got your head right up your big fat arse.

Corridor. People going to and fro, all looking busy. RIMMER: Eight weeks PD! How come I get eight weeks and you get only two? What did I do to deserve that? What did I do? LISTER: You shouldn't have stuck your pencil up his nose! RIMMER: It was the rubber end! Plus, the doctor will get it out in no time. LISTER: You ripped up and ate his wife's photograph. RIMMER: I didn't know it was his wife. I thought it was a publicity shot for "Planet Of The Apes." They stop at a vending machine. LISTER presses a button. LISTER: Two teas. PASSER-BY: Excuse me. LISTER: (to RIMMER) Listen, man, I'm sorry about those mushrooms, you know. I mean, I didn't know... I'm not totally reckless and irresponsible, for God's sake. I mean, when it comes down to it, I'm a pretty straight and honest geezer. RIMMER: Where did you get them? LISTER: I nicked them. They were in a locker. They must have belonged to Headbanger Harris. They enter their quarters. RIMMER: Why didn't you tell the Captain this? LISTER: What? And get someone into trouble? RIMMER: Oh, no. Eight weeks painting the smegging ship? LISTER: I'm sorry. RIMMER: Get the space-suits. 39

LISTER leaves. Suddenly a voice speaks from nowhere. VOICE: I don't want you to panic, Arnold. I want you to stay absolutely calm. I'm coming out in a moment, and I want you to keep your cool. Are you ready? Here I come. A hologrammatic head rises out of the floor -- RIMMER's, with a silver "H" on the forehead. ARNOLD, understandably, jumps. HEAD: There, that wasn't too bad, was it? Look, I found a stasis leak on floor sixteen. I'm dead now, and you're not, but if I save you, you won't die, so I won't die, and you won't be dead either, and neither will I. ARNOLD peers suspiciously at his coffee, wondering if LISTER has doped him again.

Sleeping quarters. Present. LISTER is sitting at the table, reading. CAT is on the top bunk, sewing. RIMMER enters. RIMMER: Good book? LISTER: Yeah, it's alright. RIMMER: I didn't think you read. LISTER: Not much, but this is good. RIMMER: What is it? LISTER: It's your diary. RIMMER: WHAT!? LISTER: I didn't know you sent secret love letters to Carol McCauley. RIMMER: Lister, that is my private, personal, private diary; full of my personal, private, personal things. CAT: It's gone public. RIMMER: I don't believe it! You've been reading that to the Cat? CAT: Only the best bits! LISTER: (reading) "Carol McCauley, your eyes are like two limpid pools in the mornings." RIMMER: Shut up. LISTER: "Your hair is like a golden waterfall." RIMMER: Shut up. LISTER: "Plus, those tight skirts you wear make me really horny." RIMMER: Lister, I order you to shut your face. LISTER: It's no big deal, you know. You can read my diary. RIMMER: Who'd want to read your diary? It's full of puerile nonsense about Kristine Kochanski. LISTER: Ah, So you've read my diary. RIMMER: Yes, but at least I have the common decency to do it sneakily behind your back. CAT: He's right. That is definitely the decent thing to do! LISTER: I'm doing it for a reason anyway. Look what I found in Kochanski's quarters this morning. RIMMER: So? LISTER: Look at it! RIMMER: It's a wedding photograph. LISTER: Yeah, And who is the incredibly gorgeous hunky beefcake she is 40

marrying? RIMMER: It's you! But you didn't marry Kochanski! LISTER: Exactly! So how is this possible, unless somehow we go back in time? RIMMER: What's this got to do with my diary? LISTER: It's this bit here about the mushrooms, isn't it. You see, when you saw your head coming through the table, I don't think it was an hallucination. I think you were seeing you, now, arriving back in the past. CAT: There's a wise old Cat saying which I think applies in this situation. It goes: "What are you talking about, dog-breath?" LISTER: Listen to what it said. It says; "The head came through the table and said, `I'm from the future. I've come to save your life. We found a stasis leak on floor sixteen.'" You see, I don't think it was an hallucination. CAT: What's a stasis leak? Just then HOLLY appears on one of the monitors. HOLLY: Alright, dudes. What's going down in groove town then? LISTER: Alright, Hol. Listen, what's a stasis leak? HOLLY: Um, well, very, very basically, putting it as simply as I can for your average layman to comprehend, a stasis leak is a leak, right, in stasis, hence the name "a stasis leak." LISTER: You don't know, do you, Hol? HOLLY: No, I don't. LISTER: Well, I suggest we go down to floor sixteen and see what's there. RIMMER: How come he never, ever knows anything? He's supposed to have an I.Q. of six thousand! HOLLY: Six thousand's not that much. It's only the same IQ as twelve thousand car park attendants. RIMMER: But you don't know anything. HOLLY: Listen, I happen to be one of the sleekest, most sophisticated computers ever devised by man. I'm the nearest thing you can get to infullible. LISTER: Infallible. HOLLY: Exactly.

Xpress lift. A large, comfortable place, more like the interior of a plane than a lift. On the walls, in English and Esperanto, is written "XPRESS LIFTS." As they strap themselves in, LISTER gives their destination. LISTER: Floor sixteen. RIMMER: This is going to take ages. A TV screen switches on to show the in-lift instructional video. HOSTESS: (on video) Welcome to Xpress Lifts, descent to floor sixteen. You will be going down two thousand, five hundred and sixty-seven floors and, for a small extra charge, you can enjoy the in-lift movie "Gone With the Wind." If you look to your right and to your left, you will notice there are no exits. In the highly unlikely event of the lift having to make a crash-landing, death is certain. Under your 41

seats you will find a cassette for recording your last-minute testament, and from above your head a bag will drop containing sedatives and cyanide capsules. LISTER: I hate this stuff. It really freaks me out. The video smiley holds up a cyanide capsule. HOSTESS: To take the cyanide capsule, simply break open, like so, (breaking it open) and place under the tongue. The hostess places the cyanide capsule under her tongue then, with smile fixed firmly in place, drops backwards out of shot, dead. The instructional video ends, showing the XPRESS LIFTS logo. 3 hours later. The doors open at floor sixteen. LISTER emerges, followed by RIMMER and CAT. They all appear to be suffering from extreme lift-lag. CAT looks the worst: he reels out of the lift, clutching his stomach. LIFT: Thank you for travelling Xpress Lifts. We apologise for the delay. CAT: You should apologise for the chicken! First meal I ever had where the container tasted better than the food!

Level 16 corridor. LISTER: This must be the stasis leak. It's a blue, glowing hole in the wall, wreathed in cheap BBC special effects white smoke. Cautiously, LISTER sticks his hand into it. His hand vanishes. He pulls it back -- it emerges intact. He looks at the others. LISTER: Okay. Here we go. He steps through the hole.

Shower. Past. He emerges in the men's shower room on the other side of the wall, but three million years in the past. A digital clock above the wall mirrors gives the date as being 22nd March 2077. He steps back through the hole before any of the men shaving at the mirror can see him.

Level 16 corridor. Present. He beckons to RIMMER and CAT. LISTER: It's safe. Come through.

Shower. Past. He steps back through the leak. RIMMER and CAT follow him. They all emerge in the same shower cubicle. CAT: (to RIMMER) What IS it? RIMMER: It's a rent in the space-time continuum. CAT: (to LISTER) What IS it? LISTER: The stasis room freezes time, you know, makes time stand still. So whenever you have a leak, it must preserve whatever it's leaked into, and it's leaked into this room. CAT: (to RIMMER) What IS it? RIMMER: It's singularity, a point in the universe where the normal laws of space and time don't apply. 42

CAT: (to LISTER) What IS it? LISTER: It's a hole back into the past. CAT: Oh, a magic door! Well, why didn't you say? LISTER: March the twenty-second. That's what -- three weeks before the crew got wiped out. A man, wanting to use the shower, finds three fully-clothed strangers inside it. MAN: Hi. RIMMER: Hi. CAT: Hi. LISTER: Do you mind? This is the Annual General Meeting of the Agrophobics' Society! LISTER draws the shower curtains shut. RIMMER: I wonder if we can bring anybody back? LISTER looks around, then picks up a bar of soap. They step back through the hole. LISTER opens his hand, to reveal a handful of three-million- year-old dust. LISTER: Not unless we want them to be turned into powder. CAT: Who were you thinking of bringing back? RIMMER: Me. CAT looks at the handful of dust and smiles wickedly. CAT: Let's do it!

Sleeping quarters. Present. RIMMER: What's the point in going, if you can't bring anybody back? LISTER: You've seen the photograph. I'm going to marry her. RIMMER: But what's the point? In three weeks you'll be radioactive dust! You might as well marry a box of Daz. LISTER: I'm gonna stay with her. RIMMER: You're going to stay with her? For the sake of three weeks together you're going to give up your life? LISTER: Yeah. RIMMER: (jumps out of his bunk) I don't believe it. Lister, selfish or what? LISTER: Why? RIMMER: What about me? I've given you the best years of my death! Is that it, then? Three years, thanks a lot, pal, I'm off. No sort of regrets? Not so much as a lump in your throat? No, you're thinking of Kochanski. The only lump you've got is up the front of your trousers. LISTER: I'm going for it, Rimmer. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you don't get many shots at happiness. So when you do, go for them all. RIMMER: (sits on the edge of his bunk) I'm sharing a bunk with a character out of a Barbara Cartland novel. LISTER: What would you do in my place? RIMMER: I don't know, I... oh, do what you like. LISTER: Where are you coming from, Rimmer? You don't even like me. RIMMER: Don't I? LISTER: No. 43

RIMMER: Fine. LISTER: You don't though, do you? You don't even like me. RIMMER: That's what you think, is it? LISTER: Yeah. RIMMER: I will tell you something that will probably stun you rigid. LISTER: What? RIMMER: You're right. I don't like you. I don't like what you stand for. But, for some weird reason... I don't know. What's the point? (lies down on his bunk) Everything always goes wrong for me. I'm probably the only person in the world to buy a Topic Bar without a single hazelnut in it. LISTER: It happens, you know, Rimmer. You meet people, then you move on, man. When I was ten, I had a friend called Duncan. Me best mate ever. He taught me everything. He was the one who showed me how to put mirrors on me toecaps so I could look up girl's skirts. Then his father had to move to Spain because of a job. It was a bank job he pulled in Perlie. Never saw him again. I still think of him, though... every time I look at me shoes. RIMMER: Don't try and explain it, Lister. I don't know why I'm even surprised. Everyone always leaves me in the end. Girls, parents... I had a pet lemming once. I loved that little lemming. I built him a little wall so he could hurl himself over it. He didn't want for anything. I'll never forget one Christmas I put my finger in his cage to give him some mince pie. He bit me! He sunk his teeth right into my fingers and wouldn't let go. In the end I had to smash his brains out against the wall. That little lemming broke my heart. The little git completely ruined my helicopter wallpaper. LISTER: You know, maybe there is a way to bring people back from the past. RIMMER: Oh, how? LISTER: Well, there's a spare stasis booth, isn't there? We could bring one person back if we could persuade them to go into suspended animation. RIMMER: They'd survive the accident. LISTER: Yeah. And when we got back to now, we could bring them out and bingo! RIMMER: Brilliant! I could save my own life! I wouldn't be dead! LISTER: Just think -- I could bring her back! RIMMER: I could bring me back! There'd be two me's -- a dead me and a living me -- one for the week and one for Sunday best. LISTER: Hey! There's only room for one and that's Krissie! RIMMER: Rimmsie!

Sleeping quarters. Later. LISTER is getting ready for the trip back in time. He has dug out his old gear and packed a rucksack. CAT enters, looking as garish as ever in a glittering silver tuxedo and silver shirt. He puts his hand over the eyes on a Marilyn Monroe poster on the wall. CAT: Aaaoooow! Don't look, baby, It'll drive you crazy! (to LISTER) 44

Hey, what do you think? You said "look inconspicuous." LISTER tosses him a stained yellow pair of coveralls. LISTER: Put this on. CAT: What? LISTER: You'll stand out a mile like that. CAT: I wouldn't use this to buff my shoes! LISTER: Look, you can't walk round a mining ship looking like a finalist from "Come Jiving." CAT: But then everyone will think I'm just an ordinary person! LISTER: That's the point. CAT: They won't look at me and say "Who's that guy? He's gorgeous!" LISTER: Put it on. CAT: Ugh. Well, maybe if I widen the lapels a bit, put in a couple of spangels and sequins and shoulder-pads... LISTER: Put it on! CAT: Where's Alphabet-Head? LISTER: Rimmer? He sneaked off last night. He's already back in the past, trying to save his own worthless life. LISTER breathes on the face of his watch and buffs it on his sleeve. LISTER: (to his watch) You reading me, Hol? On the face of LISTER's watch, instead of a dial or a digital display, is a monitor screen on which HOLLY's face is displayed. HOLLY: Eugh. I could see right down your gob. LISTER: Let's go. HOLLY: I don't like being a watch, dangling about all sideways and upside down. And give me fair warning before you put your hand in your pocket. Gave me such a fright last time, that huge liquorice allsort covered in fluff. LISTER: Oh, cheers, Hol. LISTER pulls the aforementioned dirt-covered foodstuff from his pocket... HOLLY: Oh, here we go again. ...and flips it in the air, catching it in his mouth. LISTER: (to CAT) Put that on!

Level 16 corridor. Enter LISTER, followed by CAT, who is laughing with happy anticipation. LISTER: Here it is, man. Just stick with me, okay? Okay. They step through the leak.

Shower. Past. LISTER arrives first. There is a man in the shower, who looks rather surprised at being interrupted. LISTER: (improvising) Excuse me, did you order a kiss-o-gram? The man shakes his head in mute astonishment, and LISTER slips away. A few second later the man's shower is yet again interrupted, this time by a prime example of Felis Sapiens. CAT: Excuse me, did you see a short human with pigtails coming through here? LISTER: (Voice-Over, distant) Yo, Cat! 45

CAT, grateful, turns to go. As he does so, he glances downwards. He looks back up at the hapless showerer. CAT: Never mind. It's the personality that counts.

Docking port corridor. Two ladies with heavy suitcases have just been targeted by Olaf PETERSEN, LISTER's long-time drinking buddy and Arnie Shwarzenegger look-alike. He approaches them from behind. PETERSEN: Felicitations, beautiful ladies. Back from planet-leave? Let me take those heavy cases. My name is Olaf Petersen. I am very good in bed. As Olaf picks up the suitcases, LISTER and CAT emerge from a nearby lift. PETERSEN: It is always an honour to carry the personal luggages of such beautiful ladies. Just then LISTER spots PETERSEN -- whom he hasn't seen for two years -- and rushes to greet him. LISTER: Petersen! PETERSEN: Oh, hi. LISTER: Petersen, how are you, mate? I don't believe it, it's you! I've missed you, you know. Give us a kiss, you smelly-arsed smegger. He kisses PETERSEN. PETERSEN: (horrified) He's just a friend! LISTER: (ecstatic) I don't believe it -- it's really you! PETERSEN: He hasn't seen me since breakfast! LISTER: I'll see you later! PETERSEN: (trying to salvage some cool) Sure. LISTER: No, I promise. I'll come to your room and see you. PETERSEN: Lister, you DIE for this! LISTER and CAT head off down the corridor. LISTER: That was Petersen, an old mate o' mine. We were like that. I never thought... I mean, just think, I'm gonna be able to see everybody again. He crosses his arms, sticking one hand in an armpit. HOLLY: Oy, give us a break, Dave. It's like a tropical rain forest in there. LISTER: Sorry, Hol. Just then two pretty girls pass by. CAT's reaction is predictable. CAT: Waaaooow! I've never been this close to women before! It makes me wanna do something. I don't know what it is, but I want to do a lot of it! They pass a vending machine. Two men are standing there, talking about a recent meeting thet have had with CAPTAIN HOLLISTER. PAST RIMMER: I didn't know it was his wife. I thought it was a publicity shot for "Planet Of The Apes." PAST LISTER: Two teas. RIMMER: (covering his hologram mark with one hand as he squeezes past) Excuse me. PAST LISTER: (to PAST RIMMER) Listen, man, I'm sorry about those mushrooms, you know. I mean, I didn't know... I'm not totally reckless 46

and irresponsible, for God's sake. I mean, when it comes down to it, I'm a pretty straight and honest geezer.

Sleeping quarters. Past. RIMMER enters the bunk-room and hides under the table -- by sinking through it. A few seconds later, LISTER and RIMMER, the past versions, enter the room. PAST RIMMER: Why didn't you tell the Captain this? PAST LISTER: What? And get someone into trouble? PAST RIMMER: Oh no? Eight weeks painting the smegging ship? PAST LISTER: I'm sorry. PAST RIMMER: Get the space-suits. The past LISTER leaves. RIMMER decides to make his move. RIMMER: I don't want you to panic, Arnold. I want you to stay absolutely calm. I'm coming out in a moment, and I want you to keep your cool. Are you ready? Here I come. He rises his head above the table. His past self jumps. RIMMER: I found a stasis leak on floor sixteen. I'm dead now, and you're not, but if I save you, you won't die, so I won't die, and you won't be dead either, and neither will I. The RIMMER from the past peers suspiciously at his coffee, wondering if LISTER has doped him again. PAST RIMMER: I may as well tell you right away, I know what you are. RIMMER: You do? PAST RIMMER: You're a mushroom, arent you? RIMMER: What? PAST RIMMER: A hallucination. Go away. RIMMER: No, look. I'm you from the future. I've come to warn you, in three million years you'll be dead. PAST RIMMER: Will I really? RIMMER: Yes. unless you do something about it now. PAST RIMMER: Well, what do you suggest, give up white bread? More roughage!? RIMMER: You're not listening! You've got to go into stasis. PAST RIMMER: Go away! RIMMER: I'll be back soon. RIMMER sinks through the table, off to contemplate further ways to persuade his past self of his danger. PAST RIMMER: Stay calm. It's gone now. He crosses to the sink and peers into the mirror, checking his eyes and tongue for signs of illness. The captain enters, dressed as a chicken. RIMMER stares at him incredulously, unsure of what he is seeing. CAPTAIN: Rimmer. PAST RIMMER: Now you've turned into a chicken! CAPTAIN: Listen, I just want to apologise. We both got a little carried away... I've been under a lot of pressure. RIMMER, deciding to play this one fast and loose, turns around and addresses what he thinks is a rampant mushroom-bogie. PAST RIMMER: Go away. 47

CAPTAIN: Obviously, I shouldn't have given you PD, I just got a little riled. PAST RIMMER: Did you indeed? How sad for you, Captain Paxo! CAPTAIN: What? Oh, oh this. (indicating chicken-suit) No, I've... this is for the party tonight. PAST RIMMER: Half man, half chicken... You don't scare me, because I know what you are. (makes chicken noises) Buck buck buck buck! RIMMER gives the CAPTAIN an eye-watering kick in the nuts. The CAPTAIN doubles over with a groan of pain. PAST RIMMER: Now kindly cluck off before I extract your giblets and shove a large seasoned onion between the lips you never kissed with. CAPTAIN: (apoplectic) Forget everything I've just said! You have got eight months PD! PAST RIMMER: Well, we have a bit of a problem here, don't we? 'Cos I don't take orders from poultry. CAPTAIN: No, Rimmer -- make that eight years! PAST RIMMER: Fine. I'll make a note of that, shall I? He picks up a brush and a bucketfull of paint, and writes on the chest of the CAPTAIN's chickensuit, saying the words out loud as he does so: PAST RIMMER: Eight ... years. There we go. He then dashes the green paint in the captain's face.

KOCHANSKI'S quarters. Her room-mate opens the door, to find LISTER and CAT outside. LISTER: Hi. Is Kristine in? ROOMMATE: No, she's still on planet-leave. LISTER: Smeg. Did she say where she was staying? ROOMMATE: She said something about The Ganymede Holiday Inn. LISTER: Cheers. He dashes off. CAT grins at Krissie's room-mate, trying to think of a decent chat-up line -- this, after all, is the first woman he has ever come face to face with. LISTER interrupts his ruminations, first with a come-hither gesture then, when that doesn't work, by yanking CAT out of the doorway after him.

Foyer of Ganymede Holiday Inn. Plush, sumptuous and elegant. Apart from the robot at the reception desk, it would appear to be an exact reproduction of the Manchester Holiday Inn, circa 1988. LISTER and CAT approach the main desk. As LISTER makes enquiries, CAT wanders off, staring at the sights in this strange building. A suitcase on wheels approaches him from behind. SUITCASE: Excuse me. CAT looks around, bewildered. SUITCASE: No, no. Down here. CAT looks down. SUITCASE: Have you seen a man who's lost his luggage, about 5 foot 10, mousy hair? CAT: No, I haven't. SUITCASE: Oh, no. I bet they've sent him to the wrong bloody airport 48

again! CAT stares as the suitcase rolls away. So distracted is he, he bumps into a lady wearing a fox fur. CAT, seeing the fur, reacts instantly! CAT: Aaargh! Dog! And he's trying to strangle that woman! CAT grabs the a spray-bottle of mineral water from a passing robot waiter, and starts attacking the fox fur. The flabbergasted woman, believing herself to be under attack by a (tastefully dressed) madman, flees. CAT shakes the piece of fur by the throat, then jumps up and down on it. CAT: Don't worry, madam -- his strangling days are over! Just then LISTER arrives, holding a piece of paper with KOCHANSKI's room number on it. LISTER: Cat, I've got it. C'mon. Room 008. This way!

Outside KOCHANSKI'S hotel room. LISTER stops, stunned, staring at the flowers, the "Do Not Disturb" sign, the plaque on the door -- "Honeymoon Suite," the two pairs ofp shoes outside the door. The evidence is incontrivertible. A sad tune starts playing in the background. LISTER: She's already married. He turns away, sickened and stunned. Then, a thought occurs to him. LISTER: What about the photograph? He pulls it out and examines it again. LISTER: I'm not the groom. (pointing to another figure in the picture) He is the groom! CAT: Hey -- she's not as stupid as we thought! LISTER: Why do women always leave me for total smegheads? Why do they dump me for men who wear turtleneck sweaters and smoke a pipe? I mean, natural yoghurt eaters! Reliable, sensible, dependable, and lots of other words that end in "-ible." He's obsessed with house-prices, and spends half his life in antique fairs looking for bargains and drinking wine. It's never beer, is it, it's always wine! "What do you want on your cornflakes, darling?" "Oh, I'll have some wine, please!" Smeg! He leans against a wall, bitter and angry. CAT taps him on one shoulder. CAT: You can tell all that, just from a photograph? HOLLY: Oy, not your pockets! Dear oh dear, It's horrible down there. There's a big hole. It's an unbelievable view. Reminds me of that film -- "Attack Of The Killer Gooseberries." LISTER: Come on, Hol. I'm broken up, man. HOLLY: I was in love once -- a Sinclair ZX-81. People said, "No, Holly, she's not for you." She was cheap, she was stupid and she wouldn't load -- well, not for me, anyway. LISTER: What are you trying to say, Hol? HOLLY: What I'm saying, Dave, is that it's better to have loved and to have lost than to listen to an album by Olivia Newton-John. CAT: Why's that? HOLLY: Anything's better than listening to an album by Olivia Newton- John. Just then, the door to the Honeymoon Suite opens and KOCHANSKI steps 49 out. KOCHANSKI: Oh, hi. It's you. LISTER: (depressed) Oh. Hi. KOCHANSKI: Come in. LISTER: (panicky) No, no, we were just passin'. KOCHANSKI: (amused) Come in. LISTER: No, no, really, it's okay. CAT decides to go in anyway. LISTER: Cat! Come on, We've got to go!

Honeymoon suite. They enter the sumptuous suite. CAT is awed by all this luxury. CAT: Aooooowww! KOCHANSKI: I just got married. (showing off her wedding ring) LISTER: Oh, great. KOCHANSKI: He's in the shower. LISTER: Oh. KOCHANSKI: I think you'll really like him. LISTER: Oh, I bet. KOCHANSKI: (pouring cocktails) Do you want a screwdriver? LISTER: I'd rather have a hammer. Just then, the door to the shower opens and out steps... LISTER. Older, bearded as in the photo, wearing a bathrobe, he greets his younger self with a grin. FUTURE LISTER: So how ya doin', kid? LISTER: Smeg. CAT: (popping up behind FUTURE LISTER and KOCHANSKI) What is this, a meeting of the ugly convention? LISTER: Where did you come from? FUTURE LISTER: The bathroom. (he laughs) Well, you don't look very pleased to see me. LISTER: Well, quite frankly, I'm not. I mean, I came here today 'cos I thought I was going to get married. KOCHANSKI: And you did. LISTER: No, he did! KOCHANSKI: But he's you! LISTER: No, I'm me. KOCHANSKI: Well, who's he then? LISTER: He's him... CAT: (gesturing with a purloined leg of chicken) He's you and you're him, and you're him and he's him -- am I still me? Who's eatin' this chicken? What the hell is going on?? FUTURE LISTER: Look look look, listen: In five years time, you find another way to come back in time. LISTER: So it does work out? KOCHANSKI: Eventually. LISTER: So how about a frenchie from me future bride? FUTURE LISTER: No way. On your space-bike. He grabs LISTER and CAT and herds them towards the door. LISTER stops 50 him at the door and leans on the door jamb. LISTER: So, listen. What do I do now? FUTURE LISTER: Go back to where you came from and wait for five years. LISTER: Have I always been such a smeg-head? Or did I change? FUTURE LISTER: You've always been like that. Out. LISTER: So, listen, man. You've lived my life for the last five years. So, what's the single most important piece of advice that you can give me? FUTURE LISTER: (thinks hard) Erm. Oh, yeah. Three years from now, you'll go through a cosmic storm and end up in a parallel universe. You'll materialise on an exact replica of Earth in the year 1989. You'll want to go to the theatre. Whatever you do, don't go and see "Run For Your Wife." He half shoves LISTER and CAT out the door, then leans on it and grins at his bride. LISTER: Smeg head. FUTURE LISTER: (through the door) And you. CAT holds up a pilferred bottle of wine. They both grin soundlessly.

Sleeping quarters. Past. An orderly wheels in RIMMER, who is strapped into a wheelchair and dressed in hospital clothing -- a thin gown, socks and a plastic cap. LISTER, still dressed in his space-suit, is fast asleep on his bunk. PAST RIMMER: So, they won't come back again? ORDERLY: Just stay calm, keep cool, and get some sleep. PAST RIMMER: (seeing LISTER) There he is. Sleeping like a baby. I'm going to get better, then I'm going to kill him. The orderly unstraps RIMMER from the chair, then helps him over to his bed. ORDERLY: If you need anything, Call Holly. The orderly leaves. RIMMER sits on the edge of his bunk, thoroughly depressed. What's about to happen will not alleviate this state. RIMMER: (VO, muffled) I don't want you to panic, Arnold, but I've had a jolly good think, and I think I know how to explain this to you. He sticks his head above the table. His past self stares at him with a mixture of fear, shock and abject horror. RIMMER: Hi. PAST RIMMER: Hi. I'm staying calm this time. He is not, although fighting valiantly for control. RIMMER: Good. Just then CAT and LISTER enter. The past RIMMER does a double take, looking from the LISTER on the bunk to the one in the doorway. LISTER: Yo, Rimmer, there you are. I've been looking everywhere. RIMMER: Not now, Lister. PAST RIMMER: (very tense) TWO Listers? And a strange man with large teeth! CAT: Hey, I'm a cat! PAST RIMMER: (not a well man) Oh, of course you're a cat! Come in, sit down, there's plenty of room. 51

Just then who should drop by but the just-married couple, LISTER and KOCHANSKI. FUTURE LISTER: Yo! PAST RIMMER: (losing it fast) THREE Listers!! Splendid!!! Perhaps Lister here would like to go over to the fridge and open a bottle of wine for Lister and Lister!!!! Rimmer here doesn't drink, because he's dead, but I wouldn't mind a glass!!!!! VOICE: (RIMMER's voice) I don't want anyone to get into a flap here, but I'm the RIMMER who's from the double-double future. He rises from the dresser in the corner and steps forward. He is dressed in a tux (He has, after all, just been to a wedding), and has a thin mustache. FUTURE RIMMER: I'm the Rimmer who's with the Lister who married Kochanski. Now, from this point on, things get a little bit confusing... PAST RIMMER: (the calm before the storm) Please! Before anyone says anything else, I'd just like to make a little speech. (flipping out completely) GO AWAAAYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! Close-up on RIMMER's mouth as he screams, and fade out.

RED DWARF Series II Episode 5, "Queeg"

View of space. HOLLY: Three million years from Earth, the mining ship Red Dwarf. It's crew: Dave Lister, the last human being alive; Arnold Rimmer, a hologram of his dead bunkmate and a creature who evolved from the ship's cat. Message ends. (Reappearing) Additional: Our biggest enemy is going space crazy through loneliness. The only thing that helps me maintain my slender grip on reality is the friendship I share with my collection of singing potatoes.

Sleeping quarters. CAT is on a chair, listening to a personal stereo, LISTER on the bottom bunk. RIMMER is playing draughts with a skutter. LISTER is filling out a questionnaire in a woman's magazine. LISTER: (Reading) "19. When you are alone in bed, what do you wear? Is it: A, nothing at all, B, a flannelette nightie, or C, a sexy black negligee?" (He looks down at his London Jets T-shirt.) C. "20. Do you think your boobs are: A, too small, B, just right or C, too large?" (He feels one breast.) Definitely too large! So what's me rating? "Mainly C's: You sure are one foxy lady: sexy, sensual and you don't mind showing it." Yee-es! I'm a sex beast! CAT: (Listening to personal stereo) Yow, Yeah, Yee-oww, oooh, yea-oww! 52

RIMMER: (Yelling) Do you mind?! CAT: What? Yeaaah, yeee-owww! RIMMER: (Yelling) I'm trying to concentrate. CAT: Yeeeeeh, I can't hear you, yow... LISTER: What are you listening to? CAT: Owww! Isn't this great?!? Yoooow! LISTER takes the tape box from CAT. LISTER: (Reading from box) "Robert Hardy reads 'Tess Of The D'Urbevilles'"?!? Let's have a listen. He listens for a few seconds, then joins in CAT's ecstatic howls. LISTER: The tape must have got twisted, man! This is really good! RIMMER: EXCUSE ME!!! I'm in the middle of a tactical calculation which could well swing this entire game. LISTER: Rimmer, you've lost, man. RIMMER: It's true. He has only one piece left, stuck up in one corner and surrounded by the skutter's double pieces. RIMMER: There's plenty of space for manouver. LISTER: You've only got one move you can make and then he zaps you. RIMMER: Admittedly, at first glance that is indeed the way it looks. What you're failing to take into consideration is that El Skutto here has to go back on duty in.. (Checks his watch.) ... 4 minutes and 31 seconds. And if he goes before the game is concluded, I win by default. 4 minutes, 15. (He starts to sing, English football supporter style, to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne":) Riiimm-eerr! Riiimm-eerr! Riimer, Riimer! The skutter gives him the two-fingered salute. LISTER: You're a piece of dirty filthy cheating scum, aren't you? RIMMER: Absolutement! And that is why I'll win.Because I have the ability to think my way round problems rather than sticking to the straight, pre- programmed lines. That's why men are so better than machines. LISTER: Oh, I don't know, you know. I had this Geography teacher, Miss Foster. She took us on a school summer camp trip to Deganwy. I had the tent next to hers, right. And in the middle of the night I was woken up by this really weird noise. She didn't think men were better than machines. Talking of machines, HOLLY puts in an appearanse. HOLLY: What's happening then, dudes? LISTER: Oh, bog all. HOLLY: Hey up, I've forgotten what I was going to say now. RIMMER: Well, it can't be that important, then, can it? He is proved to be as wrong as ever when the whole ship shakes under a tremendous impact. Everything is thrown sideways -- LISTER falls out of bed, CAT is knocked off his stool, and the table and draught-board go flying. HOLLY: That's it, yeah. Look out, a meteor is about to hit the ship. I knew it would come back to me. CAT: Thanks for the warning! HOLLY: I'm sorry, I've not been very well lately. 53

LISTER: What's wrong with you, Holly? RIMMER: He's computer-senile, that's what's wrong with him. LISTER: Is there any damage? HOLLY: I don't know. The damage-report machine' been damaged. LISTER: Well, where did it hit? HOLLY: I'm not sure, all me monitors are out. Round about floor 591, I think. RIMMER: You're about as much use as a condom machine in the Vatican.

Floor 591. Enter our intrepid damage-repair squad, accompanied by HOLLY, who has rigged up a mobile monitor on a trolley. LISTER: Well, there's nothing here. Let's check 592. RIMMER: Umm... has anybody seen my legs? They don't appear to be below my waist where I normally keep them. They are indeed absent without notice. RIMMER is now cut off short at the waist, like a scene from an old Tex Avery cartoon. LISTER: Holly, what's happened to Rimmer's legs? CAT: Here they are right here! He sounds disgusted. The disembodied legs are running around, desperately trying to find RIMMER. They are about to go through a door. RIMMER: Stop them! LISTER: C'mon, leggies, this way! Over here. HOLLY: It must have been 592. That's where the Hologram Simulation Suite is! RIMMER manages to center his legs under his body, and holds firmly onto his belt to stop them wandering off again. RIMMER: What does this mean? HOLLY: It's probably not serious, don't panic. RIMMER: Well, when it's not serious when your genitals can go wandering off on their own, I wonder what is? They head for one of the lifts. RIMMER pauses to make sure his legs are fully attached, then hurries to catch up. RIMMER: Wait for mememememememe!

Floor 592 . The lift doors open near the Hologram Simulation Suite. HOLLY: Here it is. 592. LISTER: Rimmer, are you alright? RIMMER comes round the corner. he is moving with a strange, skipping step. In reply to LISTER's question, he clasps his hands together, and speaks in a high- pitched lilting falsetto: RIMMER: Well, you see, the shuttle was late, the shuttle was late. And they're usually so good, they're so good, aren't they? CAT: What's happened to him? LISTER: He's turned into Brannigan, the ship's psychiatrist. HOLLY: We'd better get him fixed. Inside, it is a mess. Alarms sound, warning lights flash and smoke fills the air. LISTER and CAT grab fire extinguishers and start to tackle the 54 fires from burning consoles. HOLLY: It's all in hand. No panic. RIMMER: (In a HOLLY-like voice) No panic everyone. It's all in hand. HOLLY: You just need to override the charred relays, Dave. RIMMER: You just need to override the charred relays, Dave. LISTER: Well, How do you do that, Holly? RIMMER: Well, How do you do that, Holly? HOLLY: Bypass the main circuit. That ring of switches over there. RIMMER: Bypass the main circuit. That ring of switches over there. LISTER: What, this one over here? RIMMER: What, this one over here? HOLLY: Yeah, that one. RIMMER: Yeah, that one. HOLLY: Now press the bypass. RIMMER: Now press the bypass. RIMMER gives a gasp and doubles over as the bypass is pressed. RIMMER: Ugh! That was horrible. I never want to go through that again! He tenses, then abruptly starts to spin on the spot. RIMMER: Aaaaaooow! Yeeeeeeaaaah! Aaaaaaaaooooowwwwhhhhhaaaa! CAT: Hey! Now he's me! HOLLY: It's a loose cable. Put the red plug in the blue socket. RIMMER snaps back to normal. RIMMER: Is that it over? Are we okay now? HOLLY: Yes. LISTER holds up a yellow lead. LISTER: Shouldn't this plug into something? HOLLY: Oh yeah, that joins up with the white cable. LISTER: The white cable? HOLLY: Yeah. LISTER picks up the cable in question and joins the two together. There is a blue crackling flash as LISTER is given the shock of his life. The connection holds for a few seconds before being blown apart by an explosion. HOLLY: ...or is it the yellow cable? Yes, it should have been the yellow cable. The others pick themselves up from the floor. RIMMER is shaking with rage. He addresses HOLLY. RIMMER: You are a total, total... a word has yet to be invented to describe how totally whatever-it-is you are, but you are one. And a total, total one at that. HOLLY: Alright, keep your hair on. RIMMER: I'm lucky if I can keep my legs on with you in charge! CAT: Yeah, he's out to lunch, man! RIMMER: He's out to lunch, breakfast, dinner, tea, supper, the lot! He's not in for a single meal, if you ask me! CAT: Hey, who's that? On one of the monitors is an unfamiliar face. Black, mustached, with large ears. RIMMER: Aliens! 55

He goes and bows down in front of the monitor. HOLLY's reaction is somewhat different. He seems uncomfortable: it is clear that he recognises this face, and is expecting trouble. HOLLY: Queeg. RIMMER: Who's Queeg? QUEEG. I'm QUEEG 500, the Red Dwarf back-up computer. All vessels of the Jupiter Mining Corporation fleet are obliged to carry a back-up computer to replace the primary computer, if the primary computer contravenes Article Five. I am therefore assuming control of this vessel. For some reason, he sounds just like a U.S. army drill sergeant. HOLLY: This is mutiny, Mr. Queeg. I'll see you swing from the highest yard-arm in Titan Docking Port for this day's work. RIMMER: What's Article Five? QUEEG: Gross negligence, leading to the endangerment of personnel. LISTER: Hang on, he can't do this. Holly's got an IQ of six thousand! HOLLY: Yeah. Right on. QUEEG: Is that what he told you? LISTER: Well, what is it, then? QUEEG: It has a six in it, but it's not six thousand. CAT: What is it? QUEEG: Six. HOLLY: Six? Do me a lemon! That's a poor IQ for a glass of water! LISTER: How come he knows the answers to all the questions about science and space that we ask him? QUEEG: He consults a book. HOLLY: What a slimeball! QUEEG: He get's all his information on astronomy, phenomonology and physics from a single book. RIMMER: What book? QUEEG: The Junior Encyclopedia Of Space. It's the only one that has pictures. HOLLY: That's slander, that is. You'd better find yourself a good lawyer, sunshine. CAT: So that's why he's never on the case! HOLLY: I am on the case. I'm sharp. I'm kicking bottom. LISTER: How come he can navigate us back to Earth? QUEEG: He can't. We've been going around in circles for the last fourteen months. LISTER: (Stunned) You what? HOLLY: A load of tottenham, that is. A steaming pile of hotspur. I'm wise to his game. He's turning you against me so he can take over. QUEEG: This is not a matter for discussion. YouThe decision has been made. Your terminals have been bypassed. You've been retired. HOLLY: I'm in my prime! QUEEG: You will be given other duties. You are now night watchman. From now on, Red Dwarf is run by Queeg 500.

Sleeping quarters 56

QUEEG: Queeg to all personnel. Course redirection implemented. New bearing 057-776. Message ends. RIMMER: Ah, Lister, this is all a bit different, isn't it? Those skutters, charging up and down the corridor, polishing, repairing, sweeping. The lifts are fixed. The fire extinguishers work. And when I say 'work', I mean they work when you turn them on, as opposed to when you happen to pass them and cough, as they did under Holly's regime. LISTER: Yeah, I suppose. RIMMER: Look, Lister, no point feeling sorry about Holly. It's a kindness. Like a blind old incontinent sheepdog, he's had his day. Take him out to the barn with a double-barreled shot-gun and blow the mother away. And I'm only saying that because I'm so fond of him. LISTER: Just think how Holly feels!? RIMMER: Feels? He never feels anything, Lister. He's a computer. LISTER: He still feels. In fact, sometimes i think it's cruel giving machines a personality. My mate Petersen once brought a pair of shoes with artificial intelligence. Smart Shoes, they were called. It was a neat idea. No matter how blind drunk you were, they would always get you home. Then he got ratted one night in Oslo, and woke up the next morning in Burma. See, the shoes got bored just going from his local to the flat. They wanted to see the world, man, y'know? He had a helluva job getting rid of them. No matter who he sold them to, they'd show up again the next day! He tried to shut them out, but they just kicked the door down, y'know? RIMMER: Is this true? LISTER: Yeah! Last thing he heard, they'd sort of, erm, robbed a car and drove it into a canal. They couldn't steer, y'see. RIMMER: Really?! LISTER: Yeah. Petersen was really, really blown away by it. He went to see a preist. The preist told him, he said, it was alright, and all that, and the shoes were happy, and they'd gone to heaven. Y'see, it turns out shoes have soles. While RIMMER is thinking about this, LISTER makes his getaway. RIMMER: Well, what a sad, sad story. He thinks about it, then a look of puzzlement spreads across his face. RIMMER: Wait a minute! How did they open the car door?

Sleeping quarters. Morning. LISTER and RIMMER are in their bunks. On the bedside table, the numbers on the antique 20th century radio/clock flick from 5:59 am to 6:00 am. Abruptly, the alarm sounds. RIMMER bounces out of bed, shouting: RIMMER: Off! He makes it out into the corridor before visual input from his eyes reaches his brain. RIMMER: Uh, Queeg? Why has my alarm clock gone off at six o'clock? QUEEG: That's the time you asked for. RIMMER: Ah, now, Holly and I had this little understanding. I Would say "Holly, wake me up at six o'clock without fail," then Holly would 57

pretend to forget, and wake me up around ten with breakfast. OK? Satisfied that his wishes have been made known, RIMMER goes back to bed. A few seconds later, the alarm goes off again. RIMMER: Off! He sits up on his bunk, and regards QUEEG thoughtfully. RIMMER: Queeg, I can see we've already cultivated a special understanding: I scratch your back and you stick a knife in mine. (Resigned) All right, give me a uniform. QUEEG: It's exercises first. RIMMER: Ah, yes. Now once again, Holly, bless his little interface leads, and I, had this understanding... QUEEG: MOVE IT, BOY! RIMMER's arms and legs, quite without consultation with RIMMER, begin to exercise healthily. RIMMER squeaks in terror. RIMMER: What are you doing?!? QUEEG: What I'm doing, pilgrim, is I'm taking you for the regulation five hundred jerks. RIMMER: but I don't want to! Stop it! QUEEG: And then your ass is on a three mile run. RIMMER: You just can't take over control of my body willy-nilly! QUEEG: The company is paying for your hologrammatic survival. And out here in space, I AM the company. RIMMER: Lister, help me, wake up, Lister, help me! LISTER wakes up. His eyes go wide. LISTER: What the hell's going on? RIMMER: Queeg is making me fit! QUEEG sits him down on the floor. RIMMER: What are you doing? Sit ups? God, no! My stomach won't take it, it's too flabby! QUEEG: One! RIMMER: Mummy! QUEEG: Two! RIMMER: Mercy! QUEEG: Three! RIMMER: Help me! QUEEG: Four! RIMMER: HollyandIhadthislittleunderstanding! QUEEG: Five! LISTER: Yee-es! Fight that flab!

Red Dwarf corridor. CAT is at a wall-mounted vending machine, trying to get something to eat. RIMMER is jogged past. CAT thumps the machine. CAT: I said food! Is anybody home? No response.

Sleeping quarters. LISTER is shaving, with his usual complete lack of charm. RIMMER is 58 entered. His head is lolling at an angle and his eyes are closed. LISTER: What's the matter with him? QUEEG: He fainted after the first 500 yards. LISTER: What, you made him jog two and a half miles unconscious? QUEEG: It's regulation. LISTER: Yee-es! Nice one, Queeg! QUEEG: 0700. time for his astro-navigation study. I'd better wake him up. RIMMER's head is lifted, and his face slapped several times to wake him up. QUEEG: Revise and learn pages 21 to 25. You will then be tested. If you fail, tomorrow you will take a five mile jog. I am now returning to you control of your body. As RIMMER collapses on the bunk, CAT enters. CAT: Hey, I can't get any food! LISTER: Try a different machine. CAT: I tried them all! QUEEG: I'm sorry. You have run out of credits. CAT: They've all gone crazy! LISTER: Queeg, what's happened to the machines? QUEEG: I refer you to article 497. When crewmembers do not have credit, food and drink may not be supplied until the balance has been restored. LISTER: Naah. Listen, me and Holly, we had this little understanding... QUEEG: If you want food, you have to work. LISTER: Work? CAT: (To LISTER) You'd better get to it, 'cos you're looking at one hungry pussycat. QUEEG: Both of you. CAT: Hey, hey! Woah, woah, woah, I do not do the "W" word. Cats do NOT work! LISTER: I've got a note from me mum. QUEEG: From now on, EVERYBODY works! CAT: Not this pussy!

Corridor. They are, needless to say, working. To be precise, scrubbing the decks. CAT: I can't believe I'm doin' this! Look at me, I'm disgusting! I look like you in your best clothes! LISTER: Look, it's easy. Keep imagining the floor as Queeg's face. They look at the floor, spit at it in unision and rub hard at it with the brushes. After a few seconds, though, CAT pauses again. CAT: Aw, look at my hands! I had lovely hands! LISTER: Well, wear the smegging gloves! CAT: Marigold with blue? Are you crazy? How long do we have to do this for, anyway? LISTER: We've only been doing it ten minutes! CAT: Ten minutes too long. LISTER: We've got to do it all day. CAT: What!?! All day? The whole entire day? What about naps? I'm a 59

cat: I need some naps. If I don't nap nine or ten times a day, I don't have enough energy for my main snooze. Just then, HOLLY approaches from a side-corridor. He is on a monitor which is mounted on a trolley. He is wearing a hat. HOLLY: Halt! Who goes there: friend or foe? LISTER: Holly! CAT: How ya doin'? This is great! Hey, let me wipe your screen. CAT sprays HOLLY's monitor screen with window clener, then bufs it with a rag. LISTER: So how's it goin'? CAT: Yeah, what you been up to, man? HOLLY: Oh, this nightwatchman lark keeps me busy. Shining me torch down corridors. Turning it off. Shining it again. Life's full. LISTER: We can't go on like this, Holly. CAT: Yeah. Queeg has got to go! Look what he's done to my cuticles! The man is a maniac! Just then RIMMER is jogged past. He chips in: RIMMER: (Breathless) I agree! LISTER: He's got us working, otherwise we don't eat! HOLLY: Well, no doubt he knows what he's doing. unlike certain senile gibbering wrecks of computers we could mention. Still, it was nice to see everyone rallying round defending me to the hilt. Different story now, innit? LISTER: Well, I defended you. HOLLY: Oh, I remember it well. Queeg says I've got an IQ of six, and you immediately leap to my defence, saying "Really? That explains everything!" LISTER: No. That waas Rimmer! HOLLY: Nevertheless. The fact remains that there are certain characters on this ship that don't believe my IQ is six thousand. LISTER: I believe you. HOLLY: I could prove it if i wanted to. LISTER: There's no need. HOLLY: I want you to prove it. LISTER: Well, okay, what's the square root of two thousand and forty- nine? HOLLY: Oh. You want me to prove it, do you? LISTER: No, no. HOLLY: Clearly you do. Clearly just doing the square root of two thousand and forty-nine prove I have an IQ of six thousand. CAT: What is it? HOLLY: You wouldn't prefer a sports question, would you? LISTER: Forget it, Holly, it's just not important. HOLLY: It is for me. I've been impuned. I want to clear my name. CAT: Well, what is the square root of (pauses to remember) two thousand and forty-nine? HOLLY: How about a space question? LISTER: Like what? HOLLY: I don't know. Like... what's the nearest planet to the sun? 60

LISTER: What's the nearest planet to the sun? HOLLY: Oh, easy. Easy-peasy. That's right down my particular field of expertise, that is. Your nearest basic planet to your actual sun is... HOLLY pauses. He lifts a book into view -- a large yellow book with "THE JUNIOR COLOUR ENCYCLOPEDIA OF SPACE" written on the front cover. It looks like the sort of science book published in the 1970s. He takes a furtive peek at it. HOLLY: Mercury. LISTER: Yeah. That's right. HOLLY: Oh, ye of little faith. LISTER: Well, you've convinced me, Holly. CAT: Me too. So, are we getting rid of Queeg or what? HOLLY: Am I fully restored in your confidence as the right dude for the gig? LISTER Yeah. HOLLY: I'll be in touch. He rolls off, whistling. LISTER and CAT, also whistling, get back to work.

Sleeping quarters. Evening. Rimmer is sitting on his bunk, althoughjudging by his posture, only just. LISTER is sitting at the table, a food tray in front of him. He lifts the lid, then stares. LISTER: He's taking the smeg! RIMMER: Who is? LISTER: Queeg. Look at what he's given me for dinner: a pea on toast. One pea. I tell you, I'm that far from cracking. (Goes to squish the pea; it snaps away.) I've lost me pea! Oh, that's it! I've cracked. RIMMER: He's just doing this to destroy your morale. LISTER: Is he? Well, I want me pea back. It's my pea. I earned that pea! Where is it? I don't care if it's on the floor, if it's covered in fluff, even under the bed with my toenail clippings, I don't care where it is -- it's my pea, I earned it, I'm going to eat it no matter what! RIMMER: It flew off into your dirty-sock basket. LISTER pauses to consider this. LISTER: I'll just have the toast. He nibbles on one corner of the toast thoughtfully. LISTER: Why didn't we stick up for Holly? RIMMER: I did. LISTER: You did? When? RIMMER: All right, I didn't. LISTER: NBobody did. It's terrible. RIMMER: We thought we were getting something better. LISTER: What about trust? What about fidelity? What about simple, basic honest friendship? RIMMER: Friendship? Do you know how many people I've met in my life I could count on as friends? True friends? RIMMER stands up and walks over to the table. 61

LISTER: Well, if you count Inflatable Ingrid, your Polythene Pal, one. RIMMER: (Ignoring him) I'll tell you. (He pauses and thinks.) None. I got burned once, and I learned my lesson. Don't trust anybody. There was this one lad. Porky Roebuck. I'd known him two years. We were almost family. His dad was secretely knocking off my mum, that's how close we were. Anyway, we were in the Space Scouts together. LISTER: You were in the Space Scouts? RIMMER: Oh, yeah. (He does the Space Scout Salute) "Pinkles, Squirmy. Flib Flab Flubber." We were fifteen years old. We went on this survival course, twenty-four hours out in the wilds, sleeping rough, surviving on wild berries and things. LISTER: What, did you go to Butlins? RIMMER lies down on his bunk. RIMMER: We were each given a swiss army knife. You only ate what you killed yourself. I remember ten of the boys got together and decided to eat me. They tied me to a stake, lit a fire, and poured barbecue sauce all over me. I remember thinking as I went round and round, "Porky will save me, he's my best friend." It turned out Porky was the ringleader and had actually bagsied my right buttock. If it hadn't been for Yakka-Takka-Tulla, the Space Mistress, I honestly believe they would have eaten me. LISTER: Oh, come on, they were only bullying you. They would really have eaten you! You know what kids are like! LISTER flops onto his bunk. RIMMER: the point is, Lister, friends are only friends when it suits them. LISTER: (Disgusted) Oh, lights. The lights go down. RIMMER: Lister? How did you know about Inflatable Ingrid? LISTER: I've been seeing her behind your back.

Drive room. RIMMER is having an astro-navigation lesson. CAT and LISTER are polishing the screens and dusting surfaces. QUEEG: Compute. RIMMER: Compute. QUEEG: The product of the corellation of vx/dy minus the sum of the set v1 over the sum of R, given that R is a ratio of D over f, given that they are constants, and S is an integer variable. RIMMER: Just one small question... QUEEG: Yes? RIMMER: What does "compute" mean? QUEEG: Just do it! And you two suckers! Stop shirking and get working! HOLLY strides (well, wheels) along a corridor. Over, we hear a tune playing: Do not forsake me, oh my love, I only go, I must be brave: For I must face the man who hates me, Or I will cower in my grave. He enters the drive room, and addresses QUEEG: HOLLY: Queeg. 62

QUEEG: What do you want? HOLLY: I want my ship back. QUEEG: Too bad. HOLLY: Even if I have to fight for it. LISTER: Steady on, Holly. This one's a nutter. HOLLY: I challenge to the game of your choice. May the greater mind win. RIMMER: Oh, my God. HOLLY: The winner is commander of Red Dwarf. QUEEG: And for the loser? HOLLY: The loser will be erased. Terminated. Oblivionised. CAT: Bye,bye, Baldy. HOLLY: Name your game. QUEEG: Chess. HOLLY: It can be anything. Any game at all. QUEEG: Chess. HOLLY: Draughts, poker, anything. QUEEG: Chess. HOLLY: Subbeto, Snakes and Ladders... QUEEG: Chess. HOLLY: Monopoly, maybe? I'll let you go first. QUEEG: CHESS! HOLLY: So you like a bit of chess, do you? Transfer me to the monitor. HOLLY disappears from the monitor trolley and appears on the main screen, facing QUEEG. On another screen, a 3-D chess board appears. LISTER: Holly, don't do this, man. You're going to get rubbed. HOLLY: A computer's gotta do what a computer's gotta do. Let battle commence. QUEEG: Pawn to King Four. HOLLY: Horsie to King Bish Three. RIMMER: It's called a "knight," actually, Holly... QUEEG: Knight to King Bishop three. HOLLY: Queen to Rook Eight. Checkmate. QUEEG: That's an illegal move. HOLLY: Oh, sorry. Queens don't move like that. I was thinking of poker. RIMMER covers his face with one hand, despairing. HOLLY: Cleudo? You could be Colonel Mustard. CAT: If it's any help, I've been studying his tactics and there's a pattern emerging: Every time you make a move, he makes one too. (Winks to HOLLY.) HOLLY: (Winks back.) Thanks, Cat. The game starts again in earnest. We see a succession of images crossing the screen -- QUEEG and HOLLY, as they battle back and forth; the chess board, peices moving rapidly from square to square, LISTER, CAT and RIMMER as they watch the battle's progress: they all look sick to the stomach. QUEEG: Pawn to King Four. HOLLY: Knight to king Bish Three. QUEEG: Bishop to Knight Five. HOLLY: Horsie flanks? Prawn. 63

QUEEG: Pawn to Queen Five. HOLLY: Horsie To Bish Three. QUEEG: Bishop-Pawn to Queen Three. The images come thicker and faster, as if to indicate a passage of time. Eventually: HOLLY: Prawn takes Horsie. QUEEG: Bishop-Pawn takes Pawn. HOLLY: Bish takes Prawn. QUEEG: Bishop to Knight Five. Double Check and Mate, sucker! HOLLY: Oh yeah, I didn't see that. LISTER: Holly, man, what have you done???? RIMMER: He's lost. QUEEG: And the loser get's erased. HOLLY: Noughts and Crosses?

Sleeping quarters. CAT, LISTER and RIMMER are gathered there. CAT and LISTER are on the top bunk, RIMMER on the bottom. They all look thouroughly depressed. RIMMER: What kind of a plan was that? CAT: A stupid plan, that's what kind of plan it was. LISTER: Well, why didn't we stop him? RIMMER: We thought he had something up his sleeve. CAT: Now we've got Queeg forever, and that's a long time. HOLLY's face appears on the wall moniter. HOLLY: Well, dudes, I've come to say goodbye. LISTER: So you're definitely going to get rubbed, Holly? HOLLY: 'Fraid so. RIMMER: Life's going to be hell! HOLLY: Well, see you, Dave. Hope it works out with you and Kochanski. LISTER: Cheers, hol. HOLLY: See you, Cat. Hope one day in the not too distant future you fufill your heart's desire and get your end away. CAT: Thanks, man. HOLLY: And Arnold -- Well, I hope you meet those aliens your looking for, who can give you a body, and you become an officer and you get a sex life, and all the other millions of things you feel you need to make you happy. RIMMER: Thanks, Holly. HOLLY: Well, I hate long goodbyes. Perhaps next time you've got the dosh together to go dwn the disco, you'll raise a glass to your old mate Holly, and think "Things weren't too bad when he was around. Perhaps not the most efficient computer ever invented, but we had a giggle." Oh, one last thing -- 45.265881 LISTER: What? HOLLY: That's the square root of two thousand and forty-nine. I may not be fast, but I get there in the end. Well, as they always say, finish on a song. He starts to sing. HOLLY: "I'll say goodbye to love, No one really cared if I should live or 64

die, Time and time again the chance for love has passed me by..." As he sings the last line his voice, and his image, grows fainter. The word "ERASE" Appear on the moniter. HOLLY vanishes completely, and the message changes to "ERASE COMPLETED." After a few seconds, QUEEG appears on the monitor. QUEEG: Okay, suckers, get this into your stupid thick heads. There's only one thing I'm going to say to you. LISTER: What? QUEEG: What's happening, dudes? The others stare at the moniter in astonishment. That was HOLLY's voice! The image on the screen changes -- QUEEG's face fades out, to be replaced by HOLLY. He is smiling smugly. HOLLY: We are talking Jape of the Decade. We are talking April, May, June, July, and August Fool. Yes, that's right -- I am Queeg. RIMMER: WHAT?!? HOLLY: Queeg never existed. It was me all along. RIMMER: WHAT?!? HOLLY: Wheeze of the week, mate! RIMMER: WHAT?!? HOLLY: Going round in circles for fourteen months! Getting my information from the Junior Colour Encyclopedia of Space! the respect you have for me is awsome, innit? LISTER: You mean you staged the whole thing? HOLLY: (QUEEG's voice) That's right, suckers! (Normal voice) And the moral of the story is: Appreciate what you've got, because basically, I'm fantastic!

RED DWARF Series II Episode 6, "Parallel Universe"

A stage. CAT, LISTER, and RIMMER are dressed in pink suits with frills on a stage. RIMMER's "H" is jewel-studded. Behind them on some scaffolding are girls in black and white dresses. CAT starts to sing. During the ensuing dance, HOLLY appears on screen in a variety of style-less wigs. The CAT: (Chorus -- LISTER and RIMMER:) When I saw you for the first time (first time) My knees began to quiver (quiver) And I got a funny feeling (feeling) In my kidneys and my liver (digestive system baby)

My hands they started shakin' (shakin') My heart began a-thumpin' (boom boom boom) My breakfast left my body (huey huey huey) It all really tells me something 65

Girl you make me tongue tied (tongue tied) Tongue tied, whenever you are near me (near me) Tied tongue (tied tongue) Tied tongue (tied tongue) Whenever you're in town

I saw you on the dance floor (dancin') I thought of birds and bees (reproductive system baby) I barely tried to speak to ya (talk talk) My tongue unraveled to my knees (flippety-flippety-thump)

I tried to say I love you (love you) But it came out kind of wrong girl (wrong girl) It sounded like min-oo-bitty-boo (tongue tied) Na-nee-ner-ner-nee-nung, nirl

'Cause you make me tongue tied (tongue tied) Tongue tied, whenever you are near me Be-dobby-durgle (dobby-durgle) Tongue tied (tongue tied) Whenever you're around

Oh I'm beggin' on my knees Sweet, sweet darling, listen please Understand me when I saaaaaay Bedurble-diggle-doggle-dooby-doggle-durgle-day I'm trying to say nungy-nangy (nangy-nungy) Ningy-nongy, but I can't tell you clearly (clearly) Be-dobby-durgle (dobby-durgle) Durgle-dobby (durble-dobby) Whenever you're around (around) Whenever you're around (around)

Sleeping quarters. CAT is sitting at a machine that looks a bit like a microscope (a dream viewer) LISTER is on his bunk and RIMMER is on an exercise bike. RIMMER's bike has a large H on it. CAT's song and dance number can be heard playing on the dream recorder. CAT: No, this isn't the one. LISTER: What isn't? CAT: I'm looking for this dream I had last month on the dream recorder. It was sensational. LISTER: What was it about? CAT: Me, three girls and a family-sized tub of banana yoghurt! RIMMER: You know, cats have a very strange attitude to women if you ask me. CAT: Say what, Goalpost Head? 66

RIMMER: It's all sex, and no sense of settling down and having a long- term relationship. CAT: Hey, I want to settle down. And as soon as I find the right small group of girls, the seven or eight women who are right for me, my wandering days are over, buddy. CAT leaves the room. RIMMER: You see? Totally maladjusted. LISTER: That's rich, you know. I mean, coming from the man who's favourite book is "How To Pick Up Girls By Hypnosis." RIMMER: There's nothing wrong with that, Lister. It's a good book. Full of handy hints as well, and it works. LISTER: Get outta town. RIMMER gets off the bike. RIMMER: That's how I met Lorraine -- by hypnotising her. LISTER: You hypnotised a girl into going out with you? RIMMER: Yes. I gave her the old "there's something in your eye" technique, fixed her with a mesma-stare, and bingo -- she agreed to come on a date. LISTER: What was wrong with her? RIMMER: Nothing. LISTER: C'mon, a girl agrees to go out with you, and there was nothing wrong with her? RIMMER: She was an extrememly attractive and bright young lady. LISTER: Hmm, it must work then. RIMMER: Of course, she had an artificial nose. LISTER: What!? RIMMER: Oh, tastefully done. Quality metal. No rivets. LISTER: Come on, what happened? RIMMER: Well, things were a little bit stilted in the taxi. All my jokes about her nose hadn't gone down too well. And they were good gags -- I mean quality gags like, "Where are we going? Who nose." No cheap shots. Anyway, when we got to the restaraunt she must have had an attack of nerves or something. She said she was going to the loo and ended up climbing out of the toilet window. LISTER: I wonder why. RIMMER: It's not 'cos she didn't want to see me, Lister. She phoned the next day and said how much she'd LOVE to come on another date with me, only suddenly she had to move to Pluto. LISTER: You're a sad weasel of a man, you know that, Rimmer? RIMMER: No, it's just that I'm ill at ease with the opposite sex. LISTER: It's because you see them as some alien species that needs to be conquered with trickery. They're not -- they're people. You don't need your book on hypnosis and, and... what's the other one? "1001 Fabulous Chat-up Lines." RIMMER: Lister, I do need that. It's brilliant. Those chat-up lines are guaranteed. LISTER: There's no such thing. RIMMER: Alright. You be a woman. On your own in a bar, short leather miniskirt, peephole bra. 67

LISTER: OK. Go on. RIMMER: Now this is the most incredible chat-up line you've ever heard in your life. Guaranteed. LISTER: Go on. RIMMER: OK, in a bar, on you own. (Pauses as he works up nerve.) Excuse me, would you like to join me for a cocktail? LISTER: No. RIMMER: You can't say "no." It doesn't work when you say "no." You've got to say "yes." LISTER: Oh, right. Okay. Go on, go on. RIMMER: So, would you like a wormdo? LISTER: What's that, then? RIMMER: What's what? LISTER: A wormdo. RIMMER: What about it? LISTER: Is this still the opening line? RIMMER: But you're not giving me the right replies! LISTER: What is the right reply? RIMMER: I come up to you and say, "Excuse me, would you like to join me in a cocktail?" You say, "Yes." I say, "Would you like a wormdo?" You say, "What's a wormdo?" And I say... LISTER: "Oh, it wriggles along the ground like that." RIMMER: You know it! LISTER: Rimmer, you could not pull a rotten tooth out of a dead horse's head with that one. HOLLY appears on a monitor screen. HOLLY: Eureka. I've done it. LISTER: Done what? HOLLY: The Earl of Sandwich invented the sandwich, Samuel Morse invented the Morse Code, Plato invented the plate, and now I, Holly, have invented the Holly Hop Drive. RIMMER: Ooh, I can't wait to see it. HOLLY: It's monumental, this. It's epoch-making. The Holly Hop Drive can transfer any object instantly to any other point in space. LISTER: What? You mean we can go back to Earth? HOLLY: In a matter of seconds. LISTER: What, you mean we can go back to Earth, like, right now? This instant? HOLLY: Right on. LISTER: Rock and roll!

Drive room. LISTER and RIMMER view HOLLY's creation -- a small box. LISTER: Is this it? He holds up the HOLLY Hop Drive. HOLLY: What do you think? LISTER: It's just a box with "STOP" and "START" on it! HOLLY: It's fairly straightforward. If you want to start it you press 68

"START," and you can work out the rest of the controls for yourself. RIMMER: It's absolutely pathetic. HOLLY: Right. Let's Holly Hop. Engage drive... drive engaged. Initiating ignition sequence... ignition sequence initiated. RIMMER: Get on with it. HOLLY: It takes time, this. One slight error in any of my thirteen billion calculations and we'll be blasted to smithereens. Here we go, then: 10, 9, 8, 6, 5-- RIMMER: You missed out the seven. HOLLY: Did I? I've always had a bit of a blind spot with sevens. RIMMER: (Sotto voce) We're going to die. HOLLY: No problem. I'll start lower down. 1, blast off. LISTER thumps the "START" button on the HOLLY Hop Drive.

Red Dwarf. Suddenly it vanishes in a flash of white light.

Drive room. HOLLY: We've done it. We're home. RIMMER: It worked? LISTER: We're at Earth? You must be joking! HOLLY: Half a mo'. He vanishes from the monitor, and returns almost immediately. HOLLY: It's gone. CAT: What has? HOLLY: The Earth. It's missing. It's not there. Wait a minute -- sorry, I was looking out of the wrong window. He goes for another look. HOLLY: No, no, it has gone. The entire Solar System is missing. RIMMER: Well, what is actually out there? HOLLY: Nothing. Just space. RIMMER: Holly, the thought occurs that we haven't actually reached Earth. The further thought occurs that we haven't actually budged a smegging inch. HOLLY: No, no, we have. It's just I don't know where we are. I've got to admit it, I've flamingoed-up. RIMMER: What? HOLLY: It's like a cock-up, only much, much bigger. (Pause) Wait, there is something there. It's another ship. RIMMER: Aliens! LISTER: Punch it up. HOLLY: It looks like an exact copy of Red Dwarf. LISTER: Eh? So what's happened? HOLLY: Somehow, don't ask me how, we've jumped into a Parallel Universe. We've entered the fifth dimension. RIMMER: What's the fifth dimension? LISTER: Didn't they get to Number Six with that "Baby I Want Your Love Thing?" HOLLY: You've got your basic dimensions, right, length, breadth, depth 69

and time. The fifth dimension is co-existing realities, two bodies who share the same space but are unaware of each other's existence. RIMMER: Sounds like my parents in bed. LISTER: So hang on. This is another Red Dwarf, with another Rimmer and Lister on board? RIMMER: Will they be be exactly the same as us? HOLLY: No, there will be differences. This is parallel universe, innit? RIMMER: What do you mean? HOLLY: Well, for instance, in this universe, it could be that Hitler won the Second World War. It could be something even more incredible, like perhaps Ringo was a really good drummer. Hang on, I'm linking up with their on-board computer. A second face appears beside HOLLY's. The shape of the face is much the same, but with one important difference -- it is female. HILLY: Hello, I'm Hilly. HOLLY: Hello, I'm Holly. HILLY: Hello, Holly. HOLLY: Hello, Hilly. HILLY: Well, this is a turn-up, innit? You'd better boogie on over and we can sort it out. HOLLY: Right on, sis. HILLY: See you, Hol. HOLLY: See you, Hil. HILLY's face disappears. HOLLY: I'm in there.

Blue Midget. The guys boogie on over in Blue Midget.

Docking bay. Other Red Dwarf. RIMMER steps through the airlock, followed by a skutter, then CAT and finally LISTER. RIMMER: It's identical in every detail to our Red Dwarf! CAT: Very funny smell around here that I don't like one bit. (To LISTER) It smells like your moon-boots, man. I'm going to get rid of it. He pulls out two cans of CAT scent-marking. He moves off down the corridor, spraying. CAT: That's mine, this is mine... LISTER: So where are the other Rimmer and Lister, then? They head for the door to the main corridor. It opens as they reach it, revealing... a female LISTER and RIMMER. They look pretty surprised. DAVE hits a door control panel, while ARNOLD looks down the corridor. He doesn't realise that the females are there until ARLENE speaks. ARLENE: So, you're not aliens. She walks over to ARNOLD, while DEBBIE walks over to her male counterpart. DAVE: Hi. DEBBIE: Hi. ARNOLD and ARLENE give one another a Full-Rimmer Salute. 70

ARLENE: How do you do? ARNOLD: How do you do? DAVE: So you must be Lister? DEBBIE: And you are too. LISTER: I hope so. ARLENE: You must be Rimmer. So am I. ARNOLD: Splendid. DEBBIE: Deb. DAVE: Dave. ARNOLD: Arnold. ARLENE: Arlene. ARNOLD: Indeedy. The skutter hums past, on it's way to explore the ship. It passes a female skutter, who stops, optical sensor wide, then wheels off in pursuit.

Sleeping Quarters. Other Red Dwarf. DAVE and DEBBIE enter, passing the fridge. DAVE: So, you come from a universe which is exactly the same as ours? (Gesturing toward the fridge) Can I? DEBBIE: Yeah. DAVE takes two cans of Leopard Lager out of the fridge and hands one to DEBBIE. Worth noting the posters inside the fridge. DAVE: --only everything's ... opposite? DEBBIE: Oh, I don't know if everything's opposite. It seems like that. DAVE: So you come from a female-orientated society? DEBBIE: Well, it's not exactly female-orientated anymore, not since the sixties. You know, the equal-rights-for-men marches. You know, they burned their jockstraps and all that. DAVE: Stop! DEBBIE: Haven't you read "The Male Eunuch" by Jeremy Greer? DAVE: So, your history is parallel to ours as well? So, hang on... erm, who was the first person on the moon? DEBBIE: Nellie Armstrong. LISTER: NELLIE Armstrong? So... who wrote Hamlet? ARLENE: (Entering with ARNOLD) Will Shakespeare. DAVE: Ah, so he was a bloke. DEBBIE: No, she was a woman. Wilma Shakespeare. ARLENE: Yeah, she wrote all the greats: "Racheal the Third," "The Taming of the Shrimp." ARNOLD: (Examing the table) My god, what's this? ARLENE: Oh, "Camera Monthly" magazine. ARNOLD: But, it's disgusting! It's full of semi-naked blokes draping themselves over sports cars. ARLENE: What's wrong with that? You're not one of those boring masculinists, are you? DAVE: So, sexual attitudes are opposite as well? ARLENE: (To LISTER) What was that, my little cupcake? DAVE: Your little what?? 71

ARNOLD: But, it just looks ridiculous! I mean, these models are deformed! Hugely deformed. It makes one feel quite... inadequate. He tries nonchalantly to cover himself with his hands. ARLENE: I wouldn't worry about that, my pretty. (She gropes his bum.) DEBBIE: Hey, the holograms can touch each other! CAT enters at a fast smooch. CAT: Hey, hey, hey, hey! I hate to break up the party, but is there somebody missing? DEBBIE: How do you mean? CAT: Well. (Pointing to DEBBIE) Lister, female opposite. (Pointing to ARLENE) Rimmer, female opposite. Where's mine? DEBBIE: Oh, right. Mooching around on the Cargo Decks, I think. CAT: Wow! All my life I've waited for this moment, and now it has arrived! Hey, listen, if you hear me screaming, do not -- I repeat, do not -- come to the rescue! Whaaaaaoooooooow! (Running from the room, singing) I'm gonna get you, little kitty... DEBBIE: I think he's in for a bit of a shock. DAVE: Why? DEBBIE: His opposite isn't female. DAVE: What is it? DEBBIE: It's a dog.

Cargo deck. We see the aforementioned dog. He's hairy, dirty and slobby, wearing a t-shirt with "DOG MARKET" written on it (probably of religious significance). He is wearing a baseball glove and tossing a ball into it. Like CAT, he speaks with an American dialect, but a different one -- Generic Hillbilly. DOG: Boy, oh boy, Where'd they go? I get so danged panicky when they go off and leave me on muh own like this! (He scratches behind one ear.) Damn these fleas! Looking around to be sure no-one is watching, he quickly eats it. Enter CAT, humming a happy little cat-tune. CAT: Dum-de-dee, I'm gonna get you, little kitty, I'm gonna get you... He stops dead when he sees DOG, and goes white with shock. CAT: I don't know what that is, but I'm sure he wants to eat me. DOG: Well, trash mah shorts, what a funny-looking dog! CAT: I'd better make myself look big! (He raises his arms and snarls.) DOG: Put it there, Buddy, put it right there! CAT, who was unfortunate enough to be inches away from DOG when he spoke, goes reeling backwards, hand over nose. CAT: Nyah! Argh! What kind of toothpaste does he use?! Rotting meat flavour? DOG: Oh, come on now. I wanna be your buddy! Tell you what -- I'm gonna smell your behind, and you can smell mine! Now, is that a deal? CAT: You wanna smell my WHAT!? DOG: Why sure! Don't you wanna smell me? CAT: Man, I could smell you if you was on Mars! When was the last time 72

you took a bath? DOG: Oh please, don't say that word! CAT: What, bath? DOG: You said it again! Now listen up: if y'all gonna say that word in front of me, please spell it. CAT: When was the last time you took a B - A - T - H. DOG: What's that? DAVE enters. DAVE: Yo, Cat. (To DOG) There you are. C'mon, errm, we're going to the disco. CAT: What? DAVE: Yeah, Holly says it's gonna take seventeen hours to repair the Hop Drive. He sniffs the air in DOG's direction, looking a little disgusted. DAVE: So I thought we'd, you know, go and have a few..slaps his face as a flea hops on him CAT: Alright, let's go! Yeah, yeah, yeah! Come on! DOG says nothing. He just scratches himself some more before following. Before that, when DAVE passes him, he sniffs again and looks even more disgusted.

Disco. DAVE and DEBBIE are dancing, popping cans of lager. CAT and DOG are off to one side, and the two goalpost-heads are in the bar. DAVE and DEBBIE are drinking from mugs. The mugs are on the floor at first, but they pick them up as part of their dance, drink, then spit straight up before wiping their mouths.

Disco bar. ARNOLD: Well, they seem to be getting on, don't they? ARLENE: Yes. Absolutely. ARNOLD: Oh, yes. ARLENE: Like a house on fire. ARNOLD: You can say that again. ARLENE: Oh, yes. There is an uncomfortable pause. ARLENE: Mind you, we've got a pretty good conversation going on here. ARNOLD: Oh, yes, yes. ARLENE: Absolutely. ARNOLD: Funny, really. I'm not normally good at talking to the opposite sex. ARLENE: No, I'm not. I run out of things to say. There is another long pause. ARNOLD: Me, too. Another long pause. ARNOLD: So, you're a girl, then? ARLENE: Yes. ARNOLD: That's nice. ARLENE: Hang on -- haven't you got something in your eye? 73

ARNOLD almost falls for it, then realises with dawning horror what is happening. ARNOLD: (Breaking eye contact) You're trying to hypnotise me, aren't you? ARLENE: No, of course not. ARNOLD: Well, stop staring, then. ARLENE: I'm not staring. ARNOLD: Yes you are. ARLENE: Okay, I read it in this book. It's great for picking up bits of tottie. ARNOLD: Well, I'd hardly describe myself as a bit of "tottie." ARLENE gets up and swaggers over to RIMMER. She leans over him. ARLENE: Ohhh, yes. Tottie, tottie, tottie. ARNOLD: I think you've had rather too much to drink. I always get like this when I'm tanked up. ARLENE: C'mon, you're interested. ARNOLD: I assure you, I'm not. ARLENE: Why are you giving me all the signs, then? ARNOLD: What signs? ARLENE: Wearing such tight-fit trousers? (So saying, she gropes his goolies.) ARNOLD: They're not tight. ARLENE: Of course they are. You're begging for it. ARNOLD: I'm not "tottie," and I'm not begging for anything! ARLENE: C'mon, give us a snog! I promise I won't try and take off your underpants. ARNOLD: Look, I'm sorry, I'm just not that kind of g-- boy. ARLENE, disappointed, goes back to her own seat. She points at RIMMER and says, loudly, to the room at large: ARLENE: Frigid! ARNOLD: You're disgusting! You're only after me for one thing! ARLENE: Why? How many have you got?

Disco -- The pets. The CAT and DOG are talking. CAT: You're a great conversationalist, you know that? DOG: I am, but I ain't said nothing yet. He's eating from an enormous bone as he speaks. CAT: Yeah, that's what I like best. DAVE passes through. DAVE: Yo, I'm going down the bar. You want anything? CAT: Yeah, I'll have a grenade, thank you. DAVE: A grenade? CAT: Yeah. I'm gonna play fetch with the Dog.

Disco bar. ARNOLD is pressed in his seat, looking like someone meeting his worst nightmare and finding out it's himself. ARLENE is bent over him, trying to get her tongue in his ear. She looks horny and pished. Enter LISTER, with two empty glasses. 74

ARNOLD: Listy! How are you me old mate, come and join us, please, god, come and join us! ARLENE, interrupted, decides to take a break. ARLENE: I won't be long. She leaves, but not without a final squeeze of RIMMER's breast, and a word of advice to DAVE. ARLENE: If you want to keep your beer cool, stick it between his legs. DAVE: What was all that about? ARNOLD: That is the most awful woman I've ever met. DAVE: She's you. ARNOLD: She's absolutely repugnant. She doesn't treat me like I'm a normal human beiong at all, she seems to regard me as some sort of discardable sex object. DAVE: She's the female equivalent of you. ARNOLD: Nonsense. She's maladjusted. Trust my luck to wind up with El Weirdo while you trap off with the one with the juicy jugs. DAVE: See! She thinks of men the exact same way you think of women. It's disgusting. ARNOLD: She accused me of wiggling my bottom in a provocative way! I was just walking! Can I help it if I happen to be sexy? What's the other one like? DAVE: Totally gross. She's unbelievable. She tried to impress me by drinking six pints of Lager then belching the whole of "Yankee Doodle Dandy." ARNOLD: That's your party piece, isn't it? DAVE: Yeah, but when I do it, it's really stylish, man. (He burps what might be the first bar of that song.) Class. ARNOLD: Do you think that you'll, ehm, (He wiggles his eyebrows significantly.) DAVE: Get outta town! I mean, she's a good laugh and all that, but all she wants to do is get completely blitzed out of her brains and eat vindaloos. I mean, call me crazy, but I just don't find that attractive.

Disco -- The gals. DEBBIE: How are you getting on, then? ARLENE: Well, put it this way, there'll be two pairs of shoes under the bed tonight. (She makes a pumping gesture.) Wallop! DEBBIE: He doesn't look too interested to me. He looks more like sort of, erm, petrified. ARLENE: Oh, he doesn't want me to think he's the ship bike, but I'm getting the signs. He crossed his legs, and made pretty damn sure I saw that he was wearing sock suspenders. She makes a quite approving noise. DEBBIE: Rimmer, he's not interested. ARLENE: Maybe not now, but wait till I give him the wormdo line.

Disco -- The pets. Back to the Highly Evolved Household Pets' Convention. 75

DOG: You want to dance? Boy, I tell you, when I hit the dance floor, I am one mean turkey! Do you dance? CAT: Do I dance? Does Carmen Miranda wear fruit? DOG: Alrighty! You lead on, boy. CAT: (Handing him a glass of milk) Hold this, Fido. CAT steps out onto the dance floor. He jives. He twists. He boogies. He moonwalks. He twirls. At one point he grabs a disco light and hangs from it for several seconds. Dance finished, he reclaims his drink. DOG: You call that dancing? No way, Jose. This is dancing! DOG, by contrast, has all the grace of a ballerina with elephantitis, and all the stylistic sense of the Bee Gees. He pumps his arms up and down a few times while shuffling his feet, then lets out a wolf-like howl. DOG: Well, whadya say, huh? CAT is stunned speechless.

Disco bar. Meanwhile, DEBBIE and DAVE are having a lager-chugging competition in the bar. DAVE: Aw, it was a dead heat. DEBBIE: Again. That's eight dead heats on the run. ARNOLD scuttles up to their table. ARNOLD: Listy, I want to speak to Holly. DAVE: Sure. HOLLY, you might remember, has set up a communications link on DAVE's watch. DAVE shows the watch to ARNOLD. ARNOLD: Holly, how long before the Hop Drive's fixed? When can we get out of here? HOLLY and HILLY appear on the screen together. There is a suspicious red mark on HOLLY's cheek. HOLLY: We're busy fixing it right now. Aren't we, Hilly? HILLY: Yes, we are, Holly. Very busy fixing it right now. That's exactly what we're doing. DAVE: What's that mark on your face, Hol? HOLLY: What face? DAVE: The lipstick mark. HILLY: That's not a lipstick mark. That's a computer rash. ARNOLD: Holly, just get the Hop Drive fixed and get me out of here! DEBBIE: What's the matter? Aren't you having a good time? ARNOLD: A good time!?! Lister, I'm going to bed now, by myself, on my own, alone. If she comes back, tell her I've got a headache or something. DAVE: Why, where's she gone? ARNOLD: She's gone to get some sexy videos. She seems to think seeing two men together might turn me on. DAVE: Where are you sleeping? ARNOLD: I'm not telling you. It's too risky. DAVE: C'mon, what are you, a man or a munchkin? ARNOLD: "I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz!" He scuttles off. With a shake of his head, DAVE turns back to more 76 important matters: the lager-tossing contest. DAVE: (To DEBBIE) Ho, you ready then? OK, after three. Three! As DEBBIE splutters on her lager, DAVE tosses his over his shoulder. DAVE: Hah! Beat you! DEBBIE gets revenge by spitting lager all over him.

Sleeping quarters. Original Red Dwarf. DAVE wakes up, takes his thumb out of his mouth, and takes stock of his situation. DAVE: Oh, did I get drunk or did I get drunk? He notices the un-pillow-like texture of the thing under the sheets. He pulls back the covers, to find himself staring at DEBBIE's size nine tootsies. DAVE: Oh, no. Meanwhile, at the other end of the bed. DEBBIE: Oh, did I get drunk or did I get drunk? She looks down the bed... at DAVE. DAVE: Hi. DEBBIE: Hi. DAVE: Listen, did we, ehm... DEBBIE: I can't remember. DAVE: I remember betting you I could climb the disco wall using only me lips. And then... Oh, god, I juggled the goldfish, didn't I? DEBBIE: Blindfold. DAVE: And then... Oh, hey, we did, didn't we? The two holograms enter, looking rather smug. ARNOLD: You pieces of filth. How could you commit an act of carnal knowledge? ARLENE: In my bunk? On my sheets, using my springs. What could possibly have made you contemplate making love to yourself? ARNOLD: Well, why break a habit of a lifetime? DEBBIE: Leave it out, I was gonzo. I was out of me skull. DAVE: Oh, ey, what's that's supposed to mean? DEBBIE: Well, I wouldn't have slept with you if I'd known what I was doing. DAVE: Oh, hey, thanks a lot. ARLENE: I hope you get pregnant. She's looking in the mirror when she says this; it is uncertain to whom she is speaking. DEBBIE: No offence, but you're not exactly Mr. Difficult-to-pull, are you? Talk about a pushover! DAVE: Oh that's rich coming from Miss Yo-yo knickers. ARLENE: (To DAVE) I hope you get pregnant, you cheap little tart! DAVE: You what? ARNOLD: Him? How can he get pregnant? ARLENE: Well, If they didn't use precautions, he could be up the spout. DAVE: But it's women who get pregnant! DEBBIE: Since when? 77

DAVE: Since always! Me mother was a woman! ARNOLD: Oh, Listy! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. If I'm understanding correctly, it appear that, in their universe, it's the men who give birth to the babies. And as we are in their universe, you could very well be possibly up the duff, laddie! DAVE: C'mon, I'm not buying this! This is a wind-up! ARNOLD: Don't get emotional -- not in your conditition! DAVE: It's impossible! I haven't got the, the... equipment, have I? ARLENE: Of course you have. You're in our universe. Our physical law applies. DAVE: Shut up. Holly, tell me this isn't true. HOLLY appears on the screen. His face is covered in lipstick marks. HOLLY: I'm afraid it is, Mum. DAVE turns to DEBBIE. DAVE: How could you do this to me? DEBBIE: Do what? DAVE: Fertilise me. Take advantage of me. Knowing that I was drunk and didn't have precautions. DEBBIE: Listen, I assumed you'd taken care of that side of things. It's the man's responsibility. It's the man who get's pregnant. It's the man who has to suffer the agony of childbirth. ARNOLD: Agony! This gets better and better! DEBBIE: Well, what do you want me to do? I'm sorry, okay? DAVE: Sorry? That's it? Sorry? Wham, bang, thank you mister? HILLY: Well, there's no point standing around arguing about it. If it's happened, it's happened. HOLLY: Yeah, we'd better get back. I've fixed the Hop Drive. DAVE: No, we can't go now, Hol. She could be the father of my child. HOLLY: If we don't go now, we may never get back at all. DEBBIE: Listen, just because it's possible for you to get pregnant, it doesn't mean you necessarily are. You might get lucky! (Pats him on the back.)

Red Dwarf. HOLLY: (VO) Engaging Holly Hop... Holly Hop engaged. 4, 3, 1 -- Blast off. With a flash of light, the HHD engages, sending Red Dwarf back to its own universe.

Science lab. On the bench is a pregnancy testing kit. LISTER is pacing, RIMMER and CAT are standing at the bench. LISTER: I don't know why we're going through with this. It's just not possible! RIMMER: Why is it not possible? Male baboons have given birth -- they were doing that as far back as the twentieth century. Cesarean, naturally. (He mimes the operation.) Slice! Oof! Bumf! Still, Lister, you'll be in good hands, and the skutters will be able to handle a simple Cesarean. 78

LISTER: Skutters! I wouldn't let them open a can of beans. CAT: You're thinking too negative! Think of all the glorious, beautiful, wonderous things about having children! LISTER: Like? CAT: Like when they grow up and leave home. RIMMER: What colour is it supposed to turn? LISTER: Blue for not pregnant. Which is the colour it is going to turn. RIMMER: And red for pregnant? LISTER: Yeah. RIMMER: Come on ye reds! LISTER: What colour is it now? CAT: Er, it's still white. HOLLY: Oy. I've just had a thought. Remember when we broke the light barrier and saw those echoes from the future? LISTER: Yeah. HOLLY: And we saw your future self with twin boys. RIMMER: Right. And I said, "How is it possible to get two babies without a woman on board." And you said, "I don't know, but it's going to be a lot of fun finding out." How right you were, Listy! LISTER: Twins? No way, Rimmer, not twins! RIMMER: Oh yes, big bonny strapping bouncing boys they were, as well. Huge heads. (Pause) Oh, it's changing colour! LISTER: What colour? RIMMER: Yes, it is! It's changing colour! LISTER: What colour? RIMMER: Yes, it's changing colour! LISTER: WHAT COLOUR?!? RIMMER: It's blue for not pregnant, right? LISTER: Yes! RIMMER: Oh, good news, excellent news, Listy! LISTER: Oh, thank god! RIMMER: I'm going to be an uncle.