Rob Grant
and Doug Naylor
|
'Blue' Rob Grant and Doug Naylor |
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1.Int. Starbug.
LISTER is polishing a pair of boots. KRYTEN enters. He notices what LISTER is doing, and stands surprised for a moment, before speaking.
KRYTEN:
Good morning, sir! How about a little breakfast? What would you say to a dozen grilled winkels on a bed of curried ‘Rice Crispies’?
LISTER:
I'm not eatin' that spicy stuff any more.
KRYTEN:
Forgive me, sir, but the phenomena of you not eating spicy food is like a zebra not being stripy, or an old lady not sitting on a park bench with her legs open. May I ask why?
LISTER:
Apart from anything else it makes y' breath smell like a lift full of senile donkeys returning from a gargling contest.
KRYTEN:
Well, that's never bothered you before, sir..?
LISTER:
Well it bothers me now, okay??
KRYTEN:
It's because of her, isn't it... 'she who must be drooled over'...
LISTER:
You mean Kris?
KRYTEN:
Whatever my feelings, sir, I will not be tempted into making petty criticisms of fellow crewmembers. There is, of course, the issue of the salad cream...
LISTER:
'The salad cream'..?
KRYTEN:
I spent many months training everyone to put the salad cream in the fridge. Then she comes on board, and lo and behold: it turns up back in the cupboard!
LISTER:
(Sarcastically). The first moon we come to, let's dump her!
2.Int. Starbug corridor.
LISTER and KRYTEN enter.
KRYTEN:
And what about the extra laundry? Now there are all kinds of extraordinary items turning up in the dirty linen basket: tights; bras; skimpy vests; little socks... Tut, it's a massive extra workload! Frank is very upset.
LISTER:
Frank?
KRYTEN:
The washing machine. I named him Frank, he works better with an identity. And what about the ironing? I mean, how do you iron a bra?
LISTER:
Well, you've gotta take it off first... I spent years practising that. Used to put m' nan's bra around the armchair until I could unhook it with m' left hand. Even now, whenever I see a ‘Parker Knowles’ I get horny.
3.Int. Starbug Mid-section.
KRYTEN:
But have you ever tried to iron a bra, sir? The only way I've found is to stretch each container over my head, and iron it from there. Believe me, on a hot cotton setting it sends my optical systems into leak overload.
LISTER:
Cup.
KRYTEN:
Sorry, sir?
LISTER:
They're not called containers, they're called cups.
KRYTEN:
See? I even have to learn new terminology, special female terminology: 'cups', 'pot pourri', 'depilatory cream'. Oh! It's never-ending.
LISTER wearily walks to the galley, KRYTEN following.
LISTER:
How come you don't know what bras are? What about the women on the Nova 5?
KRYTEN:
Well, when I cleaned up my cache files, sir, I erased my lingerie database. I didn't see there's be much call for it, unless we had a fancy dress party, and you wanted to go as Herman Goering.
LISTER:
Anyway, you can relax, Kryten. She programmed the scan probe last week, and it's returned the co-ordinates of the dimensional tear. This time tomorrow she’ll be back in her own dimension.
KRYTEN:
Well you're surely not upset, sir?
LISTER:
Look, if you've got a problem with her, say something to her.
KRYTEN:
I think I will!
LISTER:
There's no point whinging to me about it, say it to her.
KOCHANSKI enters.
KOCHANSKI:
Hi guys, how's it going?
KRYTEN:
Ah! Morning Miss Kochanski, ma'am! Sleep well?
LISTER:
(To KRYTEN) Coward.
LSITER passes back into the mid-section.
KRYTEN:
(To LISTER) Hypocrite.
BR>
KRYTEN follows LISTER into the mid-section.
KOCHANSKI:
Erm, not great, actually. Had this really weird dream about a monkey being stretched across a tennis court... noise was just unbearable... Where you practising the guitar again last night?
LISTER avoids her eyes, and KOCHANSKI walks over to the galley.
KOCHANSKI:
So, what's for breakfast?
Opens fridge.
KOCHANSKI:
Ah, what's this doing in here?
She takes the salad cream from fridge and puts it in a cupboard.
KRYTEN:
(To LISTER) Hold me back! Hold me back!
4.Model shot.
Starbug in flight.
5.Int. Sleeping quarters.
KRYTEN:
Don't you see, sir, these deviations from established Space Corps drill could put our lives in jeopardy!
LISTER:
She was only drying her tights on the radiator!
KRYTEN:
That's the thin end of the wedge, sir! One day it's drying tights, the next we're spiralling out of control into the core of a newly-formed sun!
KOCHANSKI enters.
KOCHANSKI:
Er, sorry to interrupt, but we've got a couple of problems: all the hazard-approach lights are flashing -
KRYTEN:
All of them?
KOCHANSKI:
Yes, although on this ship that can mean anything from "we're under attack", to "the baked potatoes are burning".
She leaves.
KRYTEN:
Either way, it's serious.
They both leave.
6.Int. Starbug cockpit.
CAT and KOCHANSKI are at their stations, and are joined by LISTER and KRYTEN.
CAT:
Getting a reading... There's something up ahead: a shiny thing, with a long, silvery, glimmery thing behind it.
KOCHANSKI:
It's a phasing comet. Velocity twenty-five-thousand m.p.s.
CAT:
That's what I said!
LISTER:
Kryten?
KRYTEN:
How am I supposed to concentrate on a phasing comet when, as soon as my back's turned, the salad cream gets warm.
KOCHANSKI:
Heading straight for it's tail. Plotting avoidance course.
LISTER:
What's the problem with going through it? It'll get you home quicker.
KOCHANSKI:
Last time anyone did that, the gyroscopic forces ripped the ship apart, turning the crew into the consistency of potato salad!
CAT:
Is that the firm, delicatessen form of potato salad, or the squishy, gooey stuff in tins?
KOCHANSKI:
(A beat) Tins...
CAT:
Maybe we should go around..?
LISTER:
We'll make it. We're a crew. We've been through a few things. Remember when we met up with the Vidal Beast of Sharma Two?
CAT:
The one that nearly killed us?
LISTER:
No, the other one! Look, we can make it, okay?
KOCHANSKI:
Do you know what a comet is made of?
LISTER:
Are you suggesting that I don't know what a comet's made of?
KOCHANSKI:
Yes.
LISTER:
Well I do.
KOCHANSKI:
So what's it made of?
LISTER:
What's it made of?
KOCHANSKI:
Yes.
LISTER:
You wanna know what it's made of?
KOCHANSKI:
Yes, I do.
KRYTEN:
Ma'am, he knows what it's made of.
KOCHANSKI:
What?
KRYTEN:
Sir, tell her for goodness sake!
KOCHANSKI:
So, what's it made of?
KRYTEN silently mouths the word 'ice' for LISTER.
LISTER:
I see. I see... Gas. Some kind of gas.
KRYTEN buries his head.
KOCHANSKI:
‘Some kind of gas’?
LISTER:
Yeah, some gas! Dunno what it's called, some gassy type of gas.
KOCHANSKI:
It's made of ice.
LISTER:
Exactly! An icey type of gas, that's what I said: ice, an ice gas.
CAT:
I hate to interrupt, but this thing, whatever the hell it is, is gonna hit us in about forty-five seconds!
LISTER:
I was only tryin' to save time, so we could get to the dimensional tear quicker! So you could get home to your much better
KOCHANSKI:
And I'm just trying to prevent us being scattered all over the galaxy like some kind of cosmic seasoning!
CAT:
Here it comes!
KOCHANSKI:
That wasn't forty-five seconds!
CAT:
Oh - sorry! I was reading the baked potato timer by mistake! Will people not leave that in here? It just makes us look like we don't know what the hell we're doing!
7.Model shot.
The comet hits Starbug.
8. Int. Cockpit.
CAT:
Lateral trimmers not responding! It's like wrestling in treacle!
KOCHANSKI:
You hear that? CAT says the trimmers are like wrestling in treacle!
CAT:
No, I said they were down, then I asked if you like wrestling in - Anyway...
LISTER:
Damage report, Kryten.
KRYTEN:
Auxiliary flight modulator has short-circuited -
CAT:
And the chocolate dispensers' ejected all the snack bars onto the gallery floor!
9.Model shot.
Starbug in trouble.
10. Int. Cockpit.
LISTER:
What's happened to the stabilisers?
CAT:
Never mind the stabilisers! Where's the hair mousse?
KRYTEN:
Stabilisers very unstable...
CAT:
Thirty snack bars sliding about!
LISTER:
I'm taking over control!
He wrestles with controls.
LISTER:
Yeaaaay, what did I tell ya? Come to daddy, baby! I have control.
KOCHANSKI:
It's called the pre-fold vacuum; we're in-between vapour streams. With a bit of luck we can ride it across to the other side of its tail.
11.Model shot.
The second wave hits.
12. Int. Cockpit.
KOCHANSKI:
Or maybe not! If we don't turn around and go back we'll disintegrate in two minutes!
LISTER:
Kryten?
KRYTEN:
That's a little pessimistic, sir, I'd say more like three!
LISTER:
I think we should turn around...
13.Model shot.
Starbug survives the wave and flies into clear space.
14. Int. Cockpit.
LISTER:
Pheww... Well, go on, say it.
KOCHANSKI:
Say what?
LISTER:
You know what you want to say. Say it.
KOCHANSKI:
You want me to say it?
LISTER:
Say it.
KOCHANSKI:
You really want me to say it?
LISTER:
Go on, say it!
KOCHANSKI:
All right. My Dave would never have endangered our crew like that.
LISTER:
You had to say it, didn't you. Will you stop calling your boyfriend 'Dave', he's just an alternative version of me from a parallel dimension. He's not 'Dave', he's the anti-Lister.
KOCHANSKI:
Well, whoever the hell he is, I'm not gonna get to see him. By the time we fix this mess I'll have missed the Linkway!
She leaves.
LISTER:
Coulda got through that if the thrusters had worked...
CAT:
According to the SysComm, the thrusters never worked 'cos we were carrying too much weight.
KRYTEN:
It's Miss Kochanski's laundry; why will no one listen to me? Those little whirly things are heavier than they look!
CAT:
Suppose we take a look in the cargo hold and see what supplies can be jettisoned?
LISTER:
I'll go. I could do with a breath of musty, foetid air...
KRYTEN:
Er, sir... you didn't deliberately damage the ship so that Miss Kochanski had to stay behind, did you..?
LISTER:
No! 'Course not! Look, I'm gonna check out the hold. Rimmer, man, you comin'?
He stops. KRYTEN and CAT stare at him.
LISTER:
Did I say..? Why did I call you 'Rimmer '? I called you 'RIMMER', my god! Cat! Are you gonna make yourself useful or are you gonna preen yourself all day?
CAT:
You mean I have a choice?
LISTER:
Come onnn... Can't believe I called you 'Rimmer'...
15.Int. Sleeping Quarters.
KOCHANSKI is here. There is a knock on the door.
KOCHANSKI:
(Wearily) Yesss?
Enter
KRYTEN:
.
KRYTEN:
As it seems you may be with us for some time, ma'am, I was wondering if I might go through a few 'rules of the ship'?
KOCHANSKI:
Like what..?
KRYTEN:
Salad cream. Salad cream belongs in the fridge, and not in the cupboard. Two: Pants belong in the pants drawer, and socks belong in the socks drawer. Having discovered a sock in your pants drawer, this simple principle obviously needs re-stating...
KOCHANSKI:
Talking of my clothes, I'd like you to explain why my bra’s come back from the laundry shaped like... like... your head..?
KRYTEN avoids her eyes.
KRYTEN:
Three: The toilet seat fiasco -
KOCHANSKI:
Kryten! I just don't want to hear this!
KRYTEN:
Mister Lister hasn't said anything, but I can tell he's not happy...
KOCHANSKI:
Well he's not the only one! Do you think I like flying around space in this big skip-with-thrusters? Do you think I even enjoy breathing in on this ship?? And to cap it all, I am faced with some neurotic droid who's completely obsessed with my pants drawer!
KRYTEN:
You mean I'm not alone..? Oh, I see. You mean me. Well, just as long as we understand one another!
KRYTEN leaves.
KOCHANSKI:
Ohhh, god. Welcome to hell...
16.Int. Cargo hold.
LISTER:
Look at these... Rimmer's old shoe trees. He had one for every pair of his shoes. Gave them all names: Mon-shoetree, Tue-shoetree, Weden-shoetree...
CAT:
What the hell for?
LISTER:
So they all spent the same amount of time in his shoes.
CAT:
Tsh. What a smeg head...
LISTER:
Oh, he had lots of funny little habits. But now that he's gone, I can see them for what they were...
CAT:
Cretinous.
LISTER:
No... they were all the little foibles that made Rimmer... special. He was unique.
CAT:
Yeah... irritating, awkward and unsightly. He was the human equivalent of a visible panty line! Well, we may as well start somewhere. These can go!
LISTER:
No, no, you can't throw them out. They're from when me and Rimmer played gold on Treka Sixteen. We had a lot of fun.
CAT:
You had fun with Rimmer?!?
17. LISTER's flashback: Ext. Planetscape
LISTER, RIMMER and KRYTEN on the ‘golf-course’
KRYTEN:
I'm afraid I only had room to build a nine-hole course, sirs. It is a very small planetoid. Er, taking into consideration the thinness of atmosphere, sir, I've made this a fifteen mile hole, par three.
RIMMER takes his shot, and the ball flies off into the distance.
KRYTEN:
Oh, good shot, sir!
LISTER:
Heyyy, watch this. Watch and weep...
He takes his shot, and the ball shoots space-ward.
LISTER:
Ohh, smeg!
KRYTEN:
Ooh, I.I think it's gone into orbit, sir.
RIMMER:
Tough luck, Listy. I'll just pot mine and you owe me fifty big ones!
He leaves.
LISTER:
Look at him, in the right boots he could be marchin' into Poland.
he and KRYTEN walk a short distance.
LISTER:
'Eyy, this is Rimmer's ball, isn't it?
KRYTEN:
It must have gone right around the planetoid, sir.
LISTER:
Well, no point botherin' him about it, Krytie, let's go.
18.Int. Blue Midget cockpit.
LISTER is sat with his feet up, watching RIMMER searching the planetoid’s surface on a monitor.
RIMMER:
It must be here, somewhere! I've been 'round the planetoid twice!
LISTER:
No ball, no bet, man. Keep lookin'.
19. Present: Int. Cargo hold.
LISTER:
Memories like that are just too precious to throw away...
KRYTEN enters.
KRYTEN:
Hello there, sir, how's it going?
CAT:
We're getting nowhere, bud. He won't throw anything away because it reminds him of the good times he had with Rimmer! I must have blinked and missed them.
LISTER:
You don't know what we used to do back on Red Dwarf in the early days. Like when we played the Locker Room game, we used to open up the lockers of all the dead crew members, and we got to keep whatever we found.
20. LISTER's flashback: Int. Red Dwarf locker-room.
RIMMER:
I don't trust you, Lister... this game's rigged. Every time we play it, you win. Last time, you got a thirty-carat gold wristwatch, and all I got was one Wellington boot and a box of one hundred assorted tampons that glow in the dark. Right, well I'll go first this time.
LISTER:
Okay.
RIMMER:
No, you can go first...
LISTER:
Okay, I'll have sixty-eight.
RIMMER:
Ah-a-a-a-a. I'll have sixty-eight.
LISTER:
Fine...
RIMMER:
Er. You can have it.
LISTER:
Why??
RIMMER:
I know that you chose that one because you think that I think that you're cheating; so I'll have it, and it'll be useless. Ahhhhhhh, I'm not gonna fall for that one, Listy. You can have it.
LISTER:
To smart for me, man...
He breaks open locker.
LISTER:
'Eyy, a gold necklace; a bundle of cash; and 'eyyy, a nude wrestlin' video! "Baked bean bombshells Volume 12".
RIMMER:
Right! Well I'll have... that one. Number fifty-eight.
LISTER:
Okay...
LSITER breaks the lock; RIMMER steps forward and opens it, and is
blasted by a gout of flame that bursts out of the opened door. In hardlight
form, he is untouched by the flame but is left stunned when it clears.
RIMMER:
What the hell was that??
LISTER:
There's a note... "People who break into lockers deserve everything they get, you cheap double-crossing slimeball". Sounds like they know you.
21. Present: Int. Cargo hold.
LISTER:
See what I mean? We had fun, it was great. We had fun.
KRYTEN:
I'll put the rubber room on standby, sir...
22.Model shot.
Starbug in space.
23.Int. Starbug cockpit.
LISTER is here; he is joined by RIMMER, who is still dressed in ACE's flightsuit. LISTER hears movement but doesn't turn around.
LISTER:
About time, Cat, you're late. Now, where've you been?
RIMMER:
Hello, Listy.
LISTER:
Rimmer..? Smeggin' 'ell! What're you doin' 'ere?
RIMMER:
I got fed up with adventuring... you know what it's like: you save a couple of civilisations and it all gets a bit... samey. I thought I'd come and find the old team.
LISTER:
It's good to see you. Are you real?
RIMMER:
I'm as real as you can get, being a hologram.
LISTER:
So... where've you been?
RIMMER:
Argon Five. I fought in the Bellagosian War; I was decorated, and used as a Christmas tree in the town square where people came and fed me cherry liqueur chocolates for the whole winter. Nahh, I'm only kidding.
LISTER:
Kiddin'? What do you know about kidding?
RIMMER:
I just thought it was time I livened up a bit!
RIMMER unexpectedly toots a party blower.
RIMMER:
Hey hey! (He becomes serious) So, er, how about you? How's it going?
LISTER:
Ahh, y'know. Same old Starbug. Same old travelling through space.
RIMMER:
I, erm, I hear you've got a new crewmember?
LISTER:
Yeah, Kochanski.
RIMMER:
What's she like?
LISTER:
She's okay, y'know?
RIMMER:
Is she... as good as me?
LISTER:
Well, she's been here a few weeks and she hasn't quoted one Space Corps directive...
They share a laugh.
RIMMER:
She's pretty attractive though, isn't she?
LISTER:
Is she? I hadn't really noticed. She's the type you don't really notice. When you eat soup and spill some on your shirt and you don't notice it? Mm, she's like that.
RIMMER:
So, she's... not as attractive as me, then?
LISTER:
Don't be daft... she couldn't hold a candle to you, man.
RIMMER:
Nah, you're just saying that.
LISTER:
I'm not. I missed you, man.
RIMMER:
And I've missed you too, Listy.
LISTER:
Ohh, Arnold, man...
RIMMER:
Dave...
LISTER rushes out of his seat and the two of them embrace fiercely.
LISTER:
Don't ever leave us again!
RIMMER:
I won't!
LISTER:
You promise?
RIMMER:
Ohh, Listy...
LISTER:
Ohh, Rimsy...
Faces inches apart, they succumb to feelings beyond their control: slowly, but surely, their lips join in a kiss. The instant their mouths lock, cut to:
24.Int. Sleeping quarters.
LISTER is lying in bed. He wakes up:
LISTER:
Yaaaaarrrggh!! (The shock makes him tumble out of his bunk onto the floor) Aaargh! Get off! Get off!! (He rubs his tongue violently with the palm of his hand) Ohh, just a dream... thank god for that! It was just a dream...
25.Model shot.
Starbug in space.
26.Int. Starbug cockpit.
KRYTEN:
And another thing she does is, she keeps her pants in her sock drawer; have you any idea how time consuming that can be to sort out?
CAT:
You mean, you've seen her pants?
27.Model shot.
Starbug in space.
28.Int. Starbug medi-bay.
LISTER:
You're right Kryten, I must be losin' it, or I'd never be dreaming stuff like that. Kissin' Rimmer..? I'd rather go bobbing for apples in the communal latrine at Reading Festival!
KRYTEN:
I'm sure this will help, sir, I'll just insert my hypno-therapy disk...
KRYTEN pops open his abdominal disk and inserts what looks like a CD.
KRYTEN:
Now, just relax...
A piercing German voice blasts out. KRYTEN fumbles to stop the noise.
LISTER:
What the hell???
KRYTEN:
Sorry, sir! Wrong disk. Tt was my German language course; an extract from Hitler's Nuremburg speech. Definitely hypnotic, but not in the right way... I'll just go and find the proper one.
He leaves, and KOCHANSKI enters.
LISTER:
What are you doin' in here?
KOCHANSKI:
Just looking for something to erase the memory of everything I've ever experienced... Couple of gallons of medicinal alcohol should do it.
LISTER:
Listen, for what it's worth, I’m sorry you missed getting back to your Dave the ‘hologrammatic hunk'.
KOCHANSKI:
That's okay; I'm sure there'll be another chance for you to cock it up again.
LISTER:
Suppose you must be missin' him?
KOCHANSKI:
Yeah, I am a bit.
LISTER:
I know what it's like to miss someone. The way they talk, the way they laugh -
KOCHANSKI:
Heh, I know.
LISTER:
The way their nostrils flare up like two railway tunnels leading into Snot Street station.
KOCHANSKI:
N-no, you've lost me there... So you're missing Rimmer?
LISTER:
Had a dream about him, but he was different. All smiles and jokes and... stuff.
KOCHANSKI:
I thought you guys didn't get on?
LISTER:
We didn't, that's what's so weird! His tidiness drove me crazy, the way he used to eat his food in alphabetical order; the way he only ever used three pieces of toilet paper: one up, one down, and one to polish.
KOCHANSKI:
Did he have any redeeming features?
LISTER:
No. Oh yeah, sometimes he went out of the room.
KOCHANSKI:
So, how come Rimmer came to be around, anyway?
LISTER:
Well, Holly brought him back to keep me sane, but he drove me mad!
KOCHANSKI:
So, now he's gone, maybe you feel guilty because you realise he was trying to help you?
LISTER:
If he was trying to help me, why didn't he... lighten up a bit? Be happy?
KOCHANSKI:
Maybe he sacrificed his happiness to keep you sane? But when he appeared in your dream he was different, a carefree, fun-loving Rimmer. A Rimmer who didn't nag you into helping him catalogue his cheese collection.
LISTER:
You're saying I had him all wrong?
KOCHANSKI:
Wasn't your fault... you had to hate him, it was what kept you going.
LISTER:
I didn't know...
LISTER takes KOCHANSKI's offered handkerchief and blows his nose loudly.
LISTER:
You know what I should do? I should throw everything away, and make a new start.
Enter KRYTEN.
KRYTEN:
Ahh. Sorry Miss Kochanski, ma'am, this is the medical bay, for sick people only; surely you haven't broken out in a confusingly-filed pants rash?
KOCHANSKI:
Kryten, do you know how to extract a warm bottle of salad cream from a mechanoid's rectal cavity?
KRYTEN:
Not off hand, ma'am, but I could research it?
KOCHANSKI:
I'd start right now if I were you...
She leaves.
KRYTEN:
Okay, sir, now... just relax...
LISTER:
It's all right, Kryten. I've talked things through with Kochanski, I'm feeling a lot better.
KRYTEN:
Well that really takes the biscuit, doesn't it. Turn my back for five minutes and she waltzes in here and cures you!
LISTER:
She was only trying to help...
KRYTEN:
It's not the help I mind, sir, it's the fact that she succeeded!
KRYTEN takes the handkerchief and blows his own nose every bit as
loudly.
29.Int. Starbug mid-section.
LISTER addresses CAT and KOCHANSKI.
LISTER:
Okay guys! I know declare games night officially open. Seeing as Kris is with us, you can have the honour of choosing the first game. And as you're a bit sensitive, we're not gonna have any games that involve dropping trousers and lighting stuff.
CAT:
Well that takes care of most of the repertoire!
Where's Kryten?
LISTER:
I dunno, he should be here. Okay Kris? Name your game...
KOCHANSKI:
All right! I choose... 'The Magic Flute'!
LISTER:
What's that? Sort of 'Musical Chairs'?
KOCHANSKI:
No, it's an opera... 'Magic Flute'? Okay, we each hum a section of an aria, and the others have to guess which character is singing.
CAT:
That's a game?
LISTER:
It's more like medieval torture...
KOCHANSKI:
No, it's really good, 'cos, you can, like, throw each other off the scent! Once, Dave - my Dave - he sang ‘The Birdcatcher's Song’ in the German translation, and it was hilarious! We all, like, totally fell about!
LISTER:
You fell about?
KOCHANSKI:
Yeah!
LISTER:
What, were you going through a meteor storm?
KOCHANSKI:
So what games do you play, then? 'Match the Bodypart to the Crewmember'?
CAT:
I always love that one!
KOCHANSKI:
'Armpit Name That Tune'? 'Guess Whose Bottie is Sticking Through a Hole in the Curtain'?
CAT:
Shall I add that one to the slate, bud?
LISTER nods approvingly.
KRYTEN joins them.
KRYTEN:
Games night is cancelled; if you'll all kindly follow me to the AR suite, I have something I think might amuse...
Exit ALL.
30.Int. AR Suite.
ALL present.
KRYTEN:
I believe this is the answer to your dream, sir, and something slightly more effective than Miss Kochanski’s psychobabble...
31.Int. AR simulation.
ALL present, seated two-abreast in a simulation of a roller-coaster car. There is no discernible scenery, other than a large set of fairground-styled double-doors just ahead of their car. Light-bulbs flash gaily over the doors, upon which is stencilled "The Rimmer Experience".
KRYTEN:
It's a museum to Mr Rimmer's memory; I made it myself. If anyone finds they are missing him, they can relive those great moments. It's all in there: the man, the memories, the personality.
CAT:
The ego...
KRYTEN:
Yes. I had to scale that down quite a bit.
LISTER:
How did you compile all the exhibits?
KRYTEN:
Well, I re-created key events in his life from Mister Rimmer’s diaries; he kept meticulous records of life on board ship. Enjoy!
Their cart starts moving with a cranking noise and they pass through the doors.
32.Int. AR Suite - Further down the track.
Their car jerks to a halt, and as it does so a large image of RIMMER's face appears on one side of them.
RIMMER EXPERIENCE :
Welcome, to ‘The Rimmer Experience’. A place of wonder, excitement, and... wonder. You are about to witness some heroic events, which you may well find impossible to attribute to any living person; but then, Arnold J. Rimmer was a deeply remarkable man...
Their car is jerked forward once more, and the narration continues.
RIMMER EXPERIENCE :
Being the driving force behind the Red Dwarf mission, the fearless Rimmer had to dice with death on a daily basis.
LISTER:
What??
RIMMER EXPERIENCE :
Sometimes it needed a strong mind and cool nerves to hold the crew together:
The car lurches to a halt, and a short 'play' unfolds in front of their eyes.
RIMMER EXPERIENCE KRYTEN :
Asteroid belt up ahead, sir.
RIMMER EXPERIENCE RIMMER :
No it isn't Kryten, you thick, titanium plank; those are large, broken fragments of a dying star which have compressed together under enormous pressure, causing them to compress into large fragments.
RIMMER EXPERIENCE KRYTEN :
You're quite right, sir, as usual. How could I have made such an elementary mistake? As usual.
RIMMER EXPERIENCE CAT :
It's at times like these that I get really scared!
RIMMER EXPERIENCE LISTER :
Me too! Save us! Somebody save us before I wet m' keks!
LISTER:
That never happened! I swear that never happened!
With a jolt, the car rattles further along the dark track.
LISTER:
I feel sick!
KRYTEN:
I'm sorry, sir, it is a bit bumpy.
LISTER:
Nah, it's what I'm seeing that's making me sick!
The car stops once more, throwing its passengers against their
restraining lap bars. Another 'playlet' takes shape.
RIMMER EXPERIENCE RIMMER :
So you see, Cat? If you wear the green paisley shirt with the cavalry-twill trousers, you can be dignified and fashionable at the same time.
CAT:
Let me at him! I'm gonna kill him! Cavalry-twill? What does he think I am? A woodwork teacher?
RIMMER EXPERIENCE CAT :
Say, Rimmer’s a really great guy, isn't he! I don't know what we'd do without him!
RIMMER EXPERIENCE LISTER :
I owe my life to him!
LISTER:
Get me out of here!
KRYTEN:
Wait a minute; here comes the best bit...
Lurching forward, their car takes them on a true roller-coaster ride; up, down and around, while around them a truly bizarre set of imagery begins to take shape, and, to a jolly tune, a distinguished voice begins to
spill forth the following lyrics, in a horrible parody of Disney’s ‘It’s a Small World’:
RIMMER EXPERIENCE :
If you're in trouble he will save the day,
He's brave and he's fearless come what may,
Without him the mission would go astray...
He's Arnold, Arnold, Arnold Rimmer,
Without him life would be much grimmer,
He's handsome, trim, and no-one's slimmer,
He will never need a Zimmer.
He's Arnold, Arnold, Arnold Rimmer,
More reliable than a garden strimmer,
He's never been mistaken for Yul Brynner,
He's not bald and his head doesn't glimmer.
Master of the wit and the repartee,
His command of Space Directives is uncanny,
How come he's such a genius? Don't ask me...
Ask Arnold, Arnold, Arnold Rimmer,
He's also a fantastic swimmer,
And if you play your cards right,
then he just might come 'round for dinner.
33.Int. AR simulation.
The music and images fade, and we find ourselves at the other side of 'The Rimmer Experience'. A second set of double-doors with the legend 'Toodle-Pipski' mark the exit, and
these crash open to disgorge the evil-minded roller-coaster car, which jerks to a violent halt just outside the doors.
ALL present.
LISTER:
I never wanna see or hear from that scum-sucking, lying, weasel-minded smegger in my entire life!
KRYTEN:
Sigmund Freud: eat your heart out!
Chris Barrie (Rimmer), Craig Charles (Lister),Danny John-Jules (Cat), Robert Llewellyn (Kryten), Chloe Anett (Kochanski)
Directed by Andy De Emmony
TX:
BBC2 - 14th February 1997
Notes:
*Featuring Dave Lister, Arnold Rimmer, Cat, Kryten, and Christine Kochanski