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
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- CAPTAINs office. Past.
- Sleeping quarters. Present.
- Level 16 corridor. Present. He beckons to RIMMER and CAT. LISTER: Its safe. Come through. Shower. Past.
- Sleeping quarters. Later.
- Sleeping quarters. Past.
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 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. 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 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 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. 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. 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) 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! 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 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. 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. Download 194.12 Kb. Share with your friends:
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