red dwarf – season seven

Blue 

red dwarf 

season seven part 2 

Beyond a Joke 

Epideme 

Nanarchy

ed dwarf season seven part two small black beetles: the overkill 

STARBUG 

Blue 

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 eating 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 your 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... 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: The first moon we come to - let's dump her! 

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. 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 practicing that - used to put my nanny's bra 

around the armchair until I could unhook it with my 

left hand. Even now, whenever I see a Parkernol I get 

horny. 

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: They're not called containers, they're called cups. 

page 2


KRYTEN: See? I even have to learn new terminology, 

special female terminology: 'cups', 'pot pourri', 

'depillatory creamy - oh! It's never-ending. 

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'd 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 

coordinates 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: Hi guys, how's it going? 

KRYTEN: Ah! Morning Miss Kochanski, ma'am! Sleep well? 

LISTER: Coward. 

KRYTEN: Hypocrite. 

KOCHANSKI: Not great, actually. Had this really weird 

dream about a monkey being stretched across a 

tennis court... the noise was just unbearable... Were 

you practising the guitar again last night? So, what's for 

breakfast? What's this doing in here? 

KOCHANSKI TAKES THE SALAD CREAM AND PUTS IT IN A CUPBOARD 

KRYTEN: Hold me back! Hold me back! 

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: Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a couple 

of problems: all the hazard-approach lights are flashing. 

KRYTEN: All of them? 

page 3


KOCHANSKI: Yes, although on this ship that can mean 

anything from "we're under attack", to "the baked 

potatoes are burning". 

KRYTEN: Either way, it's serious. 

STARBUG COCKPIT 

CAT: There's something up ahead: a shiny thing, with a 

long, silvery, glimmery thing behind it. 

KOCHANSKI: It's a phasing comet - velocity 25,000mps. 

CAT: That's what I said! 

KRYTEN: How am I supposed to concentrate on a 

phasing comet when, as soon as my back's turned, the 

sald cream gets warm. 

KOCHANSKI: Heading straight for its 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? 

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 II? 

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? Well I do. 

KOCHANSKI: So what's it made of? 

LISTER: What's it made of? You wanna know what it's made 

of? 

KRYTEN: Ma'am, he knows what it's made of. Sir, tell her, 

for goodness sake! 

LISTER: Gas. Some kind of 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! 

page 4


LISTER: I was only trying to save time, so we could get 

to the dimensional tear quicker! So you could get home 

to your much better Lister. 

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! Lateral trimmers not responding! It's like 

wrestling in treacle! 

LISTER: What's happened to the stabilisers? 

CAT: Never mind the stabilisers! Where's the hair 

mousse? Thirty snack bars sliding about! 

LISTER: I'm taking over control! Yeaaaay, what did I tell 

ya? Come to daddy, baby! I have control. 

KOCHANSKI: With a bit of luck we can ride it across to 

the other side of its tail. Or maybe not! If we don't turn 

around and go back we'll disintegrate in two minutes! 

KRYTEN: That's a little pessimistic, sir, I'd say more like 

three! 

LISTER: Well, go on, say it. You know what you want to 

say. 

KOCHANSKI: You really want me to say it? 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! 

LISTER: Could have 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, fetid 

air... 

page 5


KRYTEN: Sir... you didn't deliberately damage the ship so 

that Miss Kochanski had to stay behind, did you..? 

LISTER: No! Look, I'm gonna check out the hold. Rimmer, 

you coming? 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 on... Can't believe I called you 'Rimmer'... 

SLEEPING QUARTERS 

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 bras come back from the laundry 

shaped like your head. 

KRYTEN: Three: The toilet seat fiasco -- 

KOCHANSKI: Kryten! I just don't want to hear this! 

KRYTEN: Mr 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! 

KOCHANSKI: Oh, god. Welcome to hell... 

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: What a smeg head... 

page 6


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 pantie line! Well, we 

may as well start somewhere. These can go! 

LISTER: No, you can't throw them out. They're from 

when me and Rimmer played gold on Treka XVI. We 

had a lot of fun. 

CAT: You had fun with Rimmer? 

LISTER'S FLASHBACK. PLANETSCAPE. 

KRYTEN: I'm afraid I only had room to build a nine-hole 

course, sirs. It is a very small planetoid. Taking into 

consideration the thiness of atmosphere, sir, I've 

made this a fifteen mile hole, par 3. Oh, good shot, sir! 

LISTER: Hey, watch this - watch and weep... Ohh, smeg! 

KRYTEN: Oh, 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! 

LISTER: Look at him, in the right boots he could be 

marching into Poland. 'Ey, this is Rimmer's ball, isn't it? 

KRYTEN: It must have gone right around the planetoid, 

sir. 

LISTER: Well, no point bothering him about it, Krytie, 

let's go. 

BLUE MIDGET COCKPIT. 

RIMMER: It must be here somewhere! I've been 'round 

the planetoid twice! 

LISTER: No ball, no bet, man - keep looking. 

CARGO HOLD 

LISTER: Memories like that are just too precious to 

throw away... 

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. 

page 7


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. 

LISTER'S FLASHBACK. 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 30 

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, I'll go first this time… No, you 

can go first... 

LISTER: Okay, I'll have sixty-eight. 

RIMMER: I'll have sixty-eight. Er… you can have it. 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. 

I'm not gonna fall for that one, Listy. You can have it. 

LISTER: Too smart for me, man... hey, a gold necklace; a 

bundle of cash; and a nude wrestling video! "Baked 

bean bombshells Volume 12". 

RIMMER: Right! Well, I'll have that one. Number fifty-eight. 

RIMMER IS BLASTED BY A FLAME THAT BURSTS OUT OF THE OPENED DOOR. 

RIMMER: What the hell was that? 

LISTER: There's a note... "People who break into 

lockers deserve everything they get, you cheap doublecrossing 

slimeball". Sounds like they know you. 


LISTER: About time, Cat, you're late. Now, where've 

you been? Rimmer..? What're you doing here? 

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: 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. Nah, I'm only kidding. I just thought it 

was time I livened up a bit! So, how about you? How's 

it going? 

LISTER: Same old Starbug. Same old travelling through 

space. 

page 8


RIMMER: I hear you've got a new crewmember? What's 

she like? Is she... as good as me? 

LISTER: Well, she's been here a few weeks and she hasn't 

quoted one Space Corps directive... 

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? 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. Don't ever leave us 

again! 

RIMMER: I won't! 

LISTER: You promise? Oh, Rimsy... Aaargh! Get off! Oh, 

just a dream... thank god for that! It was just a dream... 


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? 

STARBUG MEDI-BAY 

LISTER: You're right Kryten, I must be losing it, or I'd 

never be dreaming stuff like that. Kissing Rimmer? I'd 

rather go bobbing for apples in the communal latrine 

at Reading festival! … What are you doing 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 missing him? I know 

what it's like to miss someone. The way they talk, the 

way they laugh. The way their nostils flare up like two 

railway tunnels leading into Snot Street station. 

KOCHANSKI: You've lost me there... So you're missing 

Rimmer? 

page 9


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... You know what I should do? I 

should throw everything away, and make a new start. 

KRYTEN: Sorry 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... 

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! 

page 10


STARBUG MID-SECTION 

LISTER: Okay guys! I now 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! 

KOCHANSKI: I choose 'The Magic Flute'! It's an opera... 

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? 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? 

KRYTEN: Games night is cancelled; if you'll all kindly 

follow me to the AR suite, I have something - I think - 

might amuse... I believe this is the answer to your 

dream, sir, and something slightly more effective than 

Miss Kochanski's psychobabble... 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 Mr 

Rimmer's diaries; he kept meticulous records of life 

on board ship. Enjoy! 

RIMMER EXPERIENCE 

RIMMER: 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... Being the driving force behind the Red Dwarf 

page 11


mission, the fearless Rimmer had to dice with death 

on a daily basis. Sometimes it needed a strong mind 

and cool nerves to hold the crew together: 

KRYTEN: Asteroid belt up ahead, sir. 

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. 

KRYTEN: You're quite right, sir, as usual. How could I 

have made such an elementary mistake? As usual. 

THE CREW COMMENTS 

CAT: It's at times like these that I get really scared! 

LISTER: That never happened! I swear that never 

happened! I feel sick! 

KRYTEN: I'm sorry, sir, it is a bit bumpy. 

LISTER: It's what I'm seeing that's making me sick! 


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? 

KRYTEN: Wait a minute; here comes the best bit... 


RIMMER: 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. 


LISTER: I never wanna see or hear from that scumsucking, 

lying, weasel-minded smegger in my entire 

life! 

KRYTEN: Sigmund Freud: eat your heart out! 

page 12


STARBUG. 

Beyond a Joke 

LISTER: Mm! Smells good, Kryten. What is it? 

KRYTEN: Something I caught scuttling around the cargo 

bay, sir... managed to land a monkey wrench on it, 

and the rest is history! 

LISTER: Kryten, nothing I'm prepared to eat has ever 

scuttled. This mouth is a scuttle-free zone. It does smell 

good though, what is it? 

KRYTEN: The only clue I'm prepared to give, sir, is: we're 

having it with green wine... 

LISTER: Look, the rule is simple: I will not eat any animal 

that has ever been a cartoon. Weevils, rabbits, dogs, 

cats, mice, road-runners; all out. I'm not a cartoonivore! 

Lobster! 

KRYTEN: Poached in a delicate cream sauce, sir. 

LISTER: Where did you get a live lobster? 

KRYTEN: The S.S. Centauri, they had four in their stasis 

block. 

LISTER: You've really gone to a lot of trouble over this, 

haven't you... 

KRYTEN: You don't know what day it is, do you, sir? 

LISTER: Today? Someone's birthday? Christmas? Easter? 

National Have Something That Scuttles For Dinner Day? 

Well, what then? 

KRYTEN: Today is the day that you rescued me from the 

Nova 5 - I thought we should have a surprise 

celebration! 

LISTER: I had no idea! Why didn't you say? … If you'd 

said, it wouldn't have been much of a surprise, 

right? 

KRYTEN: Precisely, sir, it would have been about as 

unsurprising as an episode of Tales Of The Unexpected. 

The old Channel 72 show. It was... Everyone... Never 

mind. 

KOCHANSKI: Okay everyone? Ready? Let's go! 

CAT: We're going to the Artificial Reality suite! We just 

loaded in that new software we picked up from the 

S.S. Centauri. 

KOCHANSKI: Can you believe the luck? Finding a 

working copy of Jane Austin world? It's the luckiest find 

I've made since I discovered that tube of leg-wax 

under the medi-scanner. 

page 13


CAT: You found my leg-wax? 

KOCHANSKI: We're going to visit 'Pride And Prejudice' land. 

This is gonna be so great! 

CAT: It's Chick City, bud! Five sisters and they're all hotter 

than a Mustang's exhaust! 

KRYTEN: But, what about the supper? 

LISTER: The thing is... we didn't know. 

KOCHANSKI: Just put it in the oven, and we'll have it in a 

couple of hours. Look, I'm just trying to get the Bozo 

Brothers here interested in something slightly more 

culturally sophisticated than 'Name That Smell', or 

the even more popular 'How Many Marbles Can You 

Fit Up Your Nostril' game... We'll have it when we get 

back. 

KRYTEN: And you're going to go with them, sir? It's 

unbelievable. 

KOCHANSKI: I know! Davey and Jane Austin are not an 

obvious pairing - but think about it: she's closely 

identifiable to Bath in the 19th century, and that was the 

last time Dave had one! 

LISTER: I just thought I'd check it out... Y'know, I never 

had much of an education, what with being an 

orphan, and going to art college. Thought I might 

learn something here. 

KRYTEN: Of course. How silly of me. After all, you've 

always been a big fan of penetrating 19th century 

observations of middle-class manners. I mean, just 

because you own a T-shirt advertising the rock band 

'Colostomy Explosion' doesn't mean you're not a master 

of erudition! 

LISTER: Oh, just stick it in the oven, come and join us and 

we'll have it when we get back! 

KRYTEN: Two days I've spent preparing this! 

LISTER: Kryten, I've gotta go, man, they're waiting for me. 

I'm sorry. 

KRYTEN: I don't know why I bother. Gallivanting off like 

that! And on our anniversary, too! 

A FOREST WITHIN THE SIMULATION 

KOCHANSKI: 'Pride and Prejudice' world! When I was 

fourteen in Cyberschool I used to spend all my time 

here. 

CAT: These strides are too tackle-tight, Officer B-B. I can 

barely cruise! 

page 14


KOCHANSKI: Look, just try and appreciate the nuances and 

culture. 

CAT: I'm trying, but it's real hard when there's a seam 

splicing your nadgers in two! 

KOCHANSKI: You're gonna spoil it for us, aren't you... 

LISTER: No he won't, he'll be fine. Look man, all clothes 

were a bit nadger-restricting back in those days. That's 

why there were so many wars. 

KOCHANSKI: Okay? Let's interact with the characters, then 

perhaps you can begin to understand why the book is 

such a masterpiece… Good morning, Mrs Bennett. Is 

it not a most fine day? 

MRS BENNETT: 'Tis an utter delight and no mistake. Oh, we 

don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting 

your handsome young friends..? 

KOCHANSKI: This is Mr Lister, and his friend Mr Cat. 

MRS BENNETT: Perhaps you would like to join us on a turn 

around the forest, and later have tea in Mr Pindley's 

gazebo? 

1ST SISTER: Oh please, ma-ma, can they come? 

2ND SISTER: May they, oh, that would be so delightful! 

1ST SISTER: Oh yes, oh, please! Oh do! Do come to tea, oh 

please, please! 

CAT: They're so hot they're steaming! 

STARBUG 

KRYTEN: "Cook it", "don't cook it", "do this", "do that"! 

Well, I'm sorry, I'm gonna make you eat this damn 

supper if it's the last thing I do! (enters AR 

simulation) 

WOODLAND. KRYTEN PICKS OFF A SISTER WITH BLOWPIPE. CATCHES NEXT 

SISTER IN A ROPE TRAP AND SILENCES HER WITH THE BLOWPIPE. TRIES TO 

BUMP OFF NEXT SISTER WITH A LOG SWING TRAP, BUT MISSES. 

MRS BENNETT: Where on earth have Dame Lizzie and Jane 

disappeared to? Such rudeness! I'm most vexed! 

KOCHANSKI: Never mind, Mrs Bennett, I'm sure they'll 

be… 

T-72 ROLLS OUT OF THE LAKE, KRYTEN OPENS HATCH AND STANDS UP. 

KRYTEN: Perhaps I didn't make myself clear? I said: 

'supper is ready'! Is anyone still unclear as to the 

supper situation? No? Excellent. 

page 15


STARBUG. 

LISTER: It's nice, Kryts, really nice. In fact, it's better than 

nice, it's fantastic. 

CAT: Are we eating the same stuff? 

KRYTEN: I don't know why I make the effort. No one 

appreciates the hours I put into food prep! My fingers 

are practically worn down to the endo-skeleton. 

LISTER: Is there any ketchup? 

KRYTEN: Any what? 

LISTER: Ketchup. I just thought it could do with a bit of 

ketchup... Just a dollop..? 

KRYTEN: Ketchup? You want ketchup?? 

LISTER: Errm... brown! Not tomato! Brown! It's not like 

I've got no class... 

KRYTEN: With lobster? You want brown ketchup? 

LISTER: It's really nice Kryts, but you know me, I just 

thought it could do with a bit of a pep-up... 

KRYTEN: I can't believe it. I simply cannot b… (his head 

explodes) 

CAT: Oh well done, bud! Now we'll have to do the 

washing up! 

KOCHANSKI: He's literally blown his top! Cat, can you go 

and get a spare head? 

CAT: How come I have to do everything around here? I 

never get a second to myself! "Cat do this", "Cat do 

that"; what am I? A dog? 

STARBUG MEDI-BAY 

LISTER: There. I think that's it; boot him up. 

KOCHANSKI: You're sure you know what you're doing? 

LISTER: Hey... 

KRYTEN: Ketchup? With lobster, you want… (second head 

explodes) 

KOCHANSKI: I thought you said you knew what you were 

doing! 

LISTER: No, I just said 'hey'. If you'd let me finish the 

whole sentence it'd have been: 'hey... no, I don't'. 

CAT: Any luck? 

KOCHANSKI: We've been back and forth through his 

core program and, as far as we can tell, nothing's 

wrong. 

CAT: Maybe worth testing it with one of his spare heads? 

page 16


KOCHANSKI: We've blown them all out! 

LISTER: Look at it - have you ever seen so many blackheads 

outside the staffroom of a fried chicken franchise? 

KOCHANSKI: We've managed to save his RAM chips, so at 

least we've got his personality on disk, but that's about 

it... 

CAT: Life without a head... that's gonna put a real crimp 

on his lifestyle. I mean, what can you do without a 

head? 

LISTER: Apart from being you? Hardly anything. 

KOCHANSKI: We're going to have to get him another one, 

somehow. 

LISTER: I should've been looking out for him. How 

could I let this happen? 

KOCHANSKI: When was the Centauri built? Maybe they had 

a mechanoid service unit? 

LISTER: Think. Any clues when it was built? 

KOCHANSKI: Which century? 

CAT: It had those big crystalline turbine drives... I'd say 

21st, or 22nd century. Maybe even 23rd or 24th. At the 

outside, 25th, 26th or 27th. But don't hold me to it. 

KOCHANSKI: And we're asking his advice? Let's ask 

someone who's at least going to give us a slightly 

more intelligent opinion: Hello, wall! What do you think? 

THE CENTAURI 

LISTER: Well this Johnny won't help us. Simulants hate 

anything human or humanoid. In fact, anything 

beginning with a 'hu'... 

KOCHANSKI: Probably hate the third largest city in Vietnam, 

then... 

LISTER: How's that? 

KOCHANSKI: Because it's called 'Hu', dummy. Well, 

actually it's pronounced 'Hwah', but if I'd said 'hwah' 

it wouldn't have been as funny. Any navigation 

conference anywhere, they would be in the aisles with a 

quip like that. 

LISTER: Probably trying to get out the building before you 

quipped again... 

KOCHANSKI: Well, the point I was trying to make is 

that sims hate humans, but they don't hate GELFs... 

CAT: But we're not GELFs... 

KOCHANSKI: We could be. 

page 17



LISTER: This is nuts! 

KOCHANSKI: We look great! What are you talking about? 

LISTER: This is never gonna work. You can't speak GELF... 

KOCHANSKI: Neither can the sim! We'll just do an 

impression of you first thing in the morning and 

we'll be fine! Come on, boy... 

LISTER: This is so demeaning - I feel like a piece of meat! 

It's worse than a chronic catarrh sufferers' annual 

outing! 

ROOM WITHIN THE CENTAURI 

SIMULANT: After spare mech heads, 'ey? 'Uman! Lovely 

with a bit of mint sauce! 'Ow about a trade? 

CAT: We ain't selling, okay? Fuel, supplies, anything, but not 

the human. I was just telling him - no deal. Like she 

says: no deal. You tell him, Bud-Babe! No deal! You got 

that? 

SIMULANT: So... you speak Earth, 'ey? Tails... you can 'ave 

the mech 'eads for free... 'eads... I take the 'uman. It's 

tails, the 'eads are yours. And, here are the primers. 

Now, 'ow about a toast, 'ey? To Simulants: the greatest 

droids in the Universe - but never trust 'em, 'ey? 

Cheers! 


LISTER: Aw, we've been set up! 

KOCHANSKI: He must have had a sidekick - he kept us 

talking while his mate ransacked the ship! 

LISTER: Kryten! They've taken his RAM chip, too... 

WORKSHOP ABOARD THE CENTAURI 

SIMULANT: here's a little job for you, Able. Looks like a 

negadrive blow back. Fix 'im, ready for market, or I'll 

apply the electro-leash to your nipples. 

ABLE: Fix him, or get fried nipple nuts? I think I'm gonna 

choose the 'fix himy option! Deal! Is now a good 

time to ask about a pay rise? Uh, I'm almost out of 

ultrazone, I need some more. 

WORKSHOP ABOARD THE CENTAURI 

KRYTEN: Goodness me! What a peculiar experience. 

Thank you, Mr... What is your name? 

ABLE: Just give me a second, okay? I've just sent that query 

down to long term memory retrieval. It'll be back in no 

time. Hang on, here it comes. Told you it would be 

quick. Able. My name's Able. 

page 18


KRYTEN: My name is Kryten. You're a 4000-series, too, 

aren't you? 

ABLE: Er, hang on. Won't take a tick. 

KRYTEN: Please, don't bother. Believe me, you are a 4000. 

ABLE: Well, I could check - it'll only take about twenty 

seconds. 

KRYTEN: Your serial number's '2X4C' - I'm a 2X4c too! We 

must have the same motherboard. 

ABLE: Then you're my bro'! Hey, wow, you wanna try 

some Ultrazone? 

KRYTEN: Ultrazone's dangerous and highly addictive! 

ABLE: Why, I only use it every now and then, y'know? It 

helps me get through the day. 

KRYTEN: Well how come you ended up here? 

ABLE: Hang on. 

KRYTEN: What an irritating characteristic... 

ABLE: Okay: the ship I was on, well, it kind of crashed a 

bit. All the crew just lay there and they didn't talk to me 

anymore. Then, after a couple of years I figured out 

they must be dead. Then a long time later, the Simulant 

guy came and picked me up. He's a bit of a 

psychopathic killing machine, but, he has his good 

side. And, he has a huge stash of ultrazone! You sure 

you won't try some, Kryten? Bro'? 

KRYTEN: I'm not your bro', and I do not touch ultrazone! It 

corrupts your circuit boards! 

ABLE: Well, that's what people say, but... where's the 

evidence? Have I just said that? 


LISTER: Approaching the Centauri - 80 clicks and closing. 

Nice and easy, man... 

CAT: Hang on - their retros have started up. They've 

spotted us! 

KOCHANSKI: Look at the acceleration of that thing! They're 

already halfway across the sector! 

LISTER: The Centauri can travel at speeds that we can 

only dream of... We're never gonna catch them now. 

We've lost Kryten. 

KOCHANSKI: Okay, turn the thrusters to maximum speed 

on a bearing Q23 stroke J80. 

LISTER: This is the opposite direction to the Centauri - 

full speed! 

KOCHANSKI: Precisely. 

page 19


CAT: Well, why do we wanna do that? 

KOCHANSKI: The only reason I can think of is if we've 

planted something on the Centauri and we knew it was 

gonna blow any second. 

CAT: But we haven't. 

KOCHANSKI: No, we haven't. But explain this: if we haven't, 

why are we in such a rush to get the hell out of 

here? 

CAT: It doesn't make sense. 

KOCHANSKI: Exactly. 

LISTER: Unless we really have planted a bomb on the 

Centauri. 

KOCHANSKI: Which we haven't. 

CAT: So wait a minute. Even if we didn't plant a bomb, the 

only thing that really explains what we're doing is if we 

did! Which we didn't! But we must have! Because, 

otherwise, what we're doing is totally nuts! 

LISTER: They've turned around and started tracking us! 

CAT: What a fluke! 

STARBUG CARGO BAY 

SIMULANT: We know about the bomb. 

CAT: So we did plant a bomb! I was beginning to wonder. 

SIMULANT: Where did you hide it!? Speak! Or you'll spend 

the rest of the day picking bits of charred mech out of 

your clothing. 

CAT: Can I change into dungarees? 

LISTER: Hand over Kryten and we'll tell ya. 

SIMULANT: Clearly, I need to prove myself... Kryten, that 

file in your CPU; the one you've never been able to 

access... The password is '4X2C'... 

ABLE: Hang on a minute... The truth is in there - that's 

what turned me into a 'zoney. 

ABLE REMOVES HIS HEAD AND THROWS IT AT THE SIMULANT, KNOCKING 

HIM BACK. 

LISTER: Right, let's send them back to their ship and get the 

hell out of here before they get their smeg together! 

page 20


STARBUG 

LISTER: Kryten, man, what's wrong? Tell me what you 

found out about your creator. 

KRYTEN: I can't, sir, it's too terrible. 

LISTER: Kryten, me and you are amigos; you've gotta tell 

me. 

KRYTEN: Well, you keep secrets from me, sir. 

LISTER: Like what? 

KRYTEN: What about your nickname when you were at 

school? I know what it was. 

LISTER: I don't think so; no one knows that. 

KRYTEN: Well, I'm afraid that's just not true, "Fatboy". You 

talk in your sleep. 

LISTER: It was for a couple of years! Eleven to thirteen 

when I was living with my gran. She was massive, her 

stockings used to rub together when she walked; 

when she was in a hurry it sounded like a steam train 

pulling out of a station! I started getting fat too. It 

really hit home when she died. She got knocked 

down by this truck, and the chalk outline guys had to go 

back to the truck for a second piece of chalk! I thought: I 

don't want to end up like that, double-chalker! If you 

ever tell Kris or the Cat this, you're in pieces. Now tell 

me about you creator. Tell me about Professor 

Mammett! 

KRYTEN: Oh, it's so humiliating! Well, she was due to 

marry John Warburton, a fellow bio-engineer. He jilted 

her the day before their wedding, so she decided to 

create a droid in his image - a pompous, ridiculouslooking, 

mother-hen clucking, irascible buffoon. That 

droid, sir, is me! We're all John Warburton, sir, the 

entire 4000-series. It was Mammett's revenge. 

LISTER: Well, judging from the length of your groinal 

attachment, you can see why she was so sad to lose 

him... 

KRYTEN: As part of the joke, all my negative emotions - 

jealousy, anger – are stored on a special file; my 

'negadrive'. Now, when this file gets full it blows! Just 

like he used to. 

LISTER: All your resentment's in this thing? It's so small. 

KRYTEN: Oh, don't be fooled by that, sir. This box 

contains the greatest concentration of anger, jealousy 

and resentment outside a BAFTA awards ceremony! 

page 21


LISTER: Able felt betrayed, lost all his self-esteem; it's 

what turned him to ultrazone. He told me - he's 

promised to quit. 

KRYTEN: How could Mammett have done this? 

LISTER: Kryten, you may have started out as a joke, but 

you've grown, you've changed. Look how different 

you are to Able. If Mammett came in here now, I bet 

she wouldn't even recognise you. 

KRYTEN: I've evolved? 

LISTER: You bet. 

KRYTEN: I've become something that's... beyond a joke? 

LISTER: Too right, man. 

KOCHANSKI: There's something coming in from the 

starboard bow! The Simys back; he's got a lock on! 

Right, I'm taking us into that asteroid belt. Is that a 

problem? 

CAT: It sure is! Everything tips from side to side, and my 

hair gets all messed up! 

KOCHANSKI: So what do we do? Stay here and get 

splattered? 

CAT: Rather that than me looking like Tina Turner! 

LISTER: I'm taking us in. 

KRYTEN: Once we're in the belt, we'll have to maintain 

ship and engine silence 'till he's convinced we're not 

there. 

SIMULANT: I know you're in that belt somewhere... One 

little mistake and you're mine. The mistake is made... 

LISTER: What happened, man!? 

CAT: Clear out of here! 

KRYTEN: Leave him to me! 

ABLE: Oh, I think I may have pressed the wrong 

button... 

KRYTEN: You have jeopardised the lives of the entire 

crew, breaking the most basic, fundamental command 

codes! 

LISTER: This dude's real mad, we don't stand a chance! 

KOCHANSKI: I can't throw him off; nothing's working, I'm 

using every trick I know to distract him! 

CAT: Pity we can't all moon out of the starboard 

portholes! That always works for me! 

LISTER: Wait! Someone's left the ship - an escape pod! It's 

Able! It's heading towards the Simys ship. 

KRYTEN: Why, that slimy, double-crossing, two-faced 

piece of scum! He's no brother of mine! 

LISTER: He's fired something at them... 

page 22


CAT: Some sort of energy field... looks heavy. 

KRYTEN: The negadrive! He's used my negadrive energy and 

re-routed it through the escape pod's thrusters. The 

Simulant ship is engulfed in all my negativity. 

SIMULANT: It's all 'opeless! Nobody loves me; I'm so ugly! I 

never get invited to parties! I 'ate this ship! I 'ate 

everything! 

KOCHANSKI: Able's pod just crash-landed. 

LISTER: He threw his life away to save us and we hardly 

knew him... 

KRYTEN: With your permission, sirs, ma'am, I would like to 

recover the body and perform last rites. 

LISTER: Do you need a hand, Kryts? 

KRYTEN: He ain't heavy, sir, he's my brother. 

page 23



Epideme 

CAT: What IS that thing? 

KOCHANSKI: Astro-glacier. Allotropically modified, 

surrounded by an envelope of luminous gases. 

CAT: Thanks! That's most helpful! What is it? 

LISTER: To you: a big iceberg. 

KOCHANSKI: I studied them in my first year in the Corps. 

but I've never seen one up this close before. Isn't it 

incredible? Look at those crystaline formations... 

LISTER: You think all this sciency stuff's really interesting, 

don't you? I bet, at school, you were always the one 

with the right coloured pencils, and the impossibly neat 

handwriting. I bet even now you can probably tell us 

the average rainfall of the oil-rich coastal low-lands of 

Venezuela... 

KOCHANSKI: No I couldn't, I've no idea... Okay, three point 

four inches, so what? Unlike you guys, my greatest 

accomplishment isn't a line on a loo wall somewhere 

marking my highest ever pee. 

KRYTEN: I'll have you know, ma'am, I too possess 

qualifications. 

CAT: What qualifications have you got, meat-tenderiser 

head? 

KRYTEN: Why, I'm a fully qualified Bachelor of Sanitation. 

You may not know this, sir, but many years ago I 

completed my course at Toilet University, where I 

studied the lavatorial sciences. 

KOCHANSKI: Toilet University's just a piece of software, 

it's part of your core program. 

KRYTEN: I still had to complete a written examination to 

indicate the program was successfully installed. Most 

interesting. Did you know, for instance, that the first 

syphon-and-valve flushing system was patented in 1778 

by Joseph Brehman, whose U-bend curvature equations 

are still -- 

LISTER: Kryten! Can this story maybe wait? Ideally until 

after I'm dead? 

CAT: Well, speaking personally, I hardly didn't get no 

formal education at all. 

LISTER: No kidding, professor... 

CAT: No, it's true, bud. That's why, sometimes, I don't 

know stuff. Like... well, practically everything. 

page 24


KRYTEN: Was this because you brought yourself up, sir? 

CAT: Right. There was no one else around, so I had to 

teach myself. And seeing as I didn't know anything to 

begin with, lessons were long and slow; especially on 

Thursdays when I had double nothing. 

KOCHANSKI: So, what do we do about the ice? 

KRYTEN: Well, water supplies ARE low, ma'am. If the ice is 

uncontaminated, it might prove quite useful. 

Extraordinary... There's something buried deep in the 

heart of the astro-glacier – some kind of object... it's 

huge; just processing. 

LISTER: Well? 

KRYTEN: It's a starship. 

DOCKING BAY WITHIN DERELICT STARSHIP. 

LISTER: This place is harder to get into than an airline 

chicken kiev! 

KRYTEN: It's the 'Leviathan', sir, a 23rd century JMC supply 

ship. Engines are dead: power overload; looks like they 

were running from something. Wait! I'm picking up a 

lifesign. 

KOCHANSKI: I've never seen anything like this! 

LISTER: You weren't around for my last party, were you? 

KRYTEN: Look at their twisted, tortured faces! The sheer 

blind terror. 

CHAMBER WITHIN DERELICT 

CAT: Hey guys, check this out! There's a woman in there! 

KRYTEN: Caroline Carmen. According to the psi-scan, she 

was once a supply officer on Red Dwarf. 

LISTER: I remember her - she got re-posted to Titan. 

KOCHANSKI: You knew her? 

LISTER: Yeah - she made a pass at me once! 

KOCHANSKI: I don't believe you... a supply officer'd never go 

our with you. 

LISTER: She did, actually. In fact, me and Karen had 

quite a thing going there for a really long time. 

KOCHANSKI: Caroline. 

LISTER: Caroline, yeah. Karen's my pet name for her. 

KOCHANSKI: I don't believe a word. 

LISTER: Caroline Carmen and me, believe it! Sexually, we're 

just so compatible. In fact, while I was dating her, the 

two women in the quarters next door nicknamed her 

Carmen Moans. You could ask her if she was still alive. 

page 25


KRYTEN: She is, sir. The life-sign appears to be coming 

from this very spot. 

LISTER: Does it? Well, she might not remember me 

immediately, she might have amnesia. Ice does that. 

Gives you amnesia. Isn't that right, Kryts? 

KRYTEN: I don't recall hearing that, sir. 

LISTER: Y'see? It's affecting him already. Okay, let's get 

her back to the bug. 

STARBUG MEDIBAY 

CAT: It doesn't make sense, bud. The ice won't melt, and 

this room's hotter than an English beer. 

LISTER: He's right. The temperature has been a constant 

ninety degrees, and yet she's still completely cold and 

unresponsive. 

KOCHANSKI: It's as if the body's generating the ice as a 

form of protection. 

LISTER: Maybe we should just laser it? 

KRYTEN: I recommend we wait until the chemical 

analysis results are completed in the morning, sir. Any 

hasty lasering could result in lasting damage to the 

body. 

CAT: Do you really think she's still alive in there? 

KOCHANSKI: She must be. 

STARBUG. THE WOMAN APPROACHES LISTER AND SLIPS UNDER HIS DUVET. 

LISTER: Well... this is a bit of a turn up, isn't it..? You just 

couldn't stay away, could you, Kris? Hey, what're you 

doing? And what makes you so damn sure I'm 

interested..? YOU dumped ME, remember? You think 

you can just jump in my bed and I'm yours? Well, as it 

happens you're right, but let me tell you, it was a 

pretty close thing. Mmm. It's good to feel your sweet 

breath against my neck again... Smeg! It's Kryten! Quick, 

in the shower. 

KRYTEN: Are you alone, sir? Well, I just thought I'd come 

in and dust your quarters. 

LISTER: It's two o'clock in the morning, man! 

KRYTEN: Yes, well this is an emergency dust, you see, sir. 

My sensors have picked up vast quantities of dust in 

this region and I simply must dust, right now! 

LISTER: I'll take the risk, man! 

KRYTEN: I simply can't allow that, sir. Double bed mode... 

hmm... I'll just dust inside your wardrobe, sir. Under 

your spare bunk duvet... in your other wardrobe. She's 

in here, isn't she! You promised me you wouldn't like 

page 26


her more than me! You promised! It's because she's got 

a better shaped head than me, isn't it! 

LISTER: Not again, man, no! No! I like your head! 

KRYTEN: Not as much as you like hers! 

LISTER: What are you talking about? You've got one of the 

all-time great heads - it's attractive, it's functional, it's 

almost perfect for carving a sunday roast! 

KRYTEN: She's in the shower, isn't she! 

KOCHANSKI: What is all this noise about? I can't sleep! 

KRYTEN: Forgive me, sir. Shame mode. Excuse me, ma'am... 

LISTER: How the hell did you do that? Of course! You 

slipped out through the vent shaft, and dropped into 

the corridor - brilliant! You're a genius, an absolute 

genius! 

KOCHANSKI: What are you doing? 

LISTER: I'm unbuttoning your shirt... 

KOCHANSKI: What are you doing that for?! 

LISTER: 'Cos we've got a little unfinished business! 

KOCHANSKI: That was a long time ago, things are very 

different now! 

LISTER: Look, he's gone - don't worry about Kryten; 

now come on, get your kit off, and I'll go and slip into 

my Batman outfit. 

KOCHANSKI: You really believe in being direct, don't you... 

LISTER: Come on, rumpy-pumpy, Kris - let's hit the 

springs? 

KOCHANSKI: That's your idea of seduction, is it? Well, 

forget it, Lister! Not if you were the last man alive... 

LISTER: I am the last man alive. 

KOCHANSKI: I rest my case... 

LISTER: What did I do wrong? Oh my god! Caroline! 

You've really let yourself go... You could audition for 

about nine hundred Clearasil commercials! God! 

KRYTEN: Are you all right, sir!? 

LISTER: I've just been molested by Tutunkamun's horny 

grandma! The taste! I need to go and gargle with a toilet 

duck! 

KRYTEN: She's dead, sir - and, curious, it appears she's 

been dead for three million years... 

LISTER: If she's been dead for three million years, where did 

the lifesigns come from? 

KRYTEN: Good point, sir; and, more to the point, 

where did they go? 

page 27



LISTER: I feel really lousy... 

KOCHANSKI: Oh, you're probably just in shock, don't be 

such a baby. 

KRYTEN: Miss Kochanski, ma'am, if I may say so, your 

bedside manner leaves something to be desired. 

KOCHANSKI: Like what? 

KRYTEN: Well, like a bedside manner! 

LISTER: You think I'm a hyperchondriac? 

KOCHANSKI: You're a man, aren't you? I mean, you all get 

the common cold and you think it's malaria. 

KRYTEN: Oh, and women, of course, are different? 

LISTER: They just have a different perspective on pain, 

Kryten. As would you if, every summer, you had to 

pour hot wax on your crotch and rip out half your 

thatch. 

CAT: He's right, I hate doing that. 

KRYTEN: The tests are complete, and there's a foreign 

substance in your blood, and... I recognise the DNA, sir. 

It's the epideme virus. A man-made parasite created as a 

rival to the nicotine patch. Epideme was an intelligent 

organism, designed to block all neural signals relating 

to nicotine craving, but in practice, it also blocked the 

signals telling the body it needed blood and oxygen. 

CAT: Is that why the Carmen chick looked like the 

centerfold from this month's Playzombie? 

KRYTEN: Precisely. It's virtually unstoppable. For the 

first forty-eight hours it consumes its host, then hijacks 

the corpse and goes looking for a new victim... When 

it can't find one, it freezes the body and waits. 

CAT: So, the lifesigns on the Leviathan -- 

KOCHANSKI: Didn't belong to Carmen, but to the parasite 

inhabiting her body... Which passed to you the 

moment she... 

LISTER: Slipped her mouth-meat down my gullet? I've 

been tongue-hockeyed to death! In forty-eight hours I'm 

going to be deader than a Saturday night in Salt Lake 

City! 

KRYTEN: There is one option, sir... I believe you might 

have a chance if you, well, reason with it. The virus, sir. 

After all, it is intelligent. 

LISTER: Kryten, are you neural circuits picking up 

interference from the tumble-drier again? 

KRYTEN: If we can patch in the universal translator, it 

might just be possible to talk to it. I believe it's your 

only chance, sir. 

page 28



KRYTEN: It's a long shot, I know, but if we can reason with 

it, we might persuade it to leave. Now, remember: be 

charming. 

EPIDEME: And a great big "Hi!" to all of you out there in 

flesh-and-blood land! And tonight, Dave Lister, assistant 

vending machine sub-operative, and spice food 

connoisseur, this is your death! Your line... 

KRYTEN: I take it we're speaking with the epideme virus..? 

EPIDEME: Give that man an eyebrow! Hey, I'm feeling 

generous, give him two! Dave... let's run down the 

rules. If you win: you get to live; if I win: you get to die, 

and I take all your knowledge then I kill you... 

LISTER: What? You absorb knowledge from every person 

you kill? 

EPIDEME: So, as you can appreciate, killing you ain't 

exactly a career highlight... No offence, but when 

you're a virus there's not much call for knowing how 

to open a lager bottle with your anus. 

LISTER: How can you justify killing another living being? 

EPIDEME: How about that chicken you biriani'd last night? 

How can you justify killing that? 

LISTER: Me and the chicken... it was different. I'm a person, 

it was a curry. 

EPIDEME: He died so you could go on living; is that so 

different from what I'm doing? 

LISTER: Of course it is! Totally! I'm a human being, I have 

certain qualities that elevate me above poultry! I can 

think; I can play the guitar… 

KRYTEN: We're losing the argument, sir! You better 

move on to another subject. 

LISTER: I'm the last guy alive! 

EPIDEME: And that gives you more right to exist than me..? 

Time for your species to check out, Davey. 


KRYTEN: Sir, you know how you told us all to work on a 

solution to Mr Epideme, no matter how drastic? Well, 

what we thought was - you see - 

KOCHANSKI: We want to cut off your arm. 

LISTER: You what? 

KOCHANSKI: It's our only chance to save you. It could be 

worse... 

page 29


LISTER: What, you mean I could be planning a career in 

archery? 

KOCHANSKI: You could be dead. Now, you said you'd 

consider anything, well, this is it. 

LISTER: Can I have some details? Something a little bit more 

inspiring than "can I hack off your limb?" 

KRYTEN: The plan is to inject anti-virals in a precise 

pattern through your body, forcing epideme into your 

arm. 

LISTER: And then you cut it off. Great plan. What choice 

have I got... Okay, but make it my left arm, okay. 'Cause 

my right arm does all my favourite things. 


KOCHANSKI: Okay, virus heading north. And heading for 

the left shoulder. No, no, no, no! It's heading away 

from his left arm… 

KRYTEN: The right arm, it's our only chance. Laser bone 

saw, sir, quickly! Amputation mode: cut and cauterise! 

KOCHANSKI: It's not enough. Still not enough. Okay! If this 

doesn't work, we're out of options. 

CAT: Whether it works or not, it's gonna be a cold 

day in hell before I touch barbecue wings again! 

STARBUG MEDIBAY, LATER. 

KOCHANSKI: He's awake! 

LISTER: My left arm, I said! That's my right; what kind of 

navigation officer can't tell left from right? 

KOCHANSKI: We did the best we could; I am so sorry. 

LISTER: Where is it? 

KOCHANSKI: We flushed it into space, we had to. 

LISTER: Oh, my right arm... I did everything with that arm; 

we were inseparable! At least, I thought we were. 

Oh, it's not your fault. You did what you had to do to 

save my life. You haven't saved my life... So, to sum up: 

all I've got to look forward to now is death, 

zombification, and then a quick, after-death snog with 

either you or the Cat? You've given my arm for 

nothing? 

KRYTEN: Not nothing, sir! Based on my calculations, it's 

bought you approximately fifty-eight minutes more 

life. 

LISTER: What am I gonna do with fifty-eight minutes more 

life? 

CAT: Have half a juggling lesson? 

LISTER: You're really not helping. 

page 30


SLEEPING QUARTERS. KRYTEN RE-ARRANGES THE TWO PILLOWS ONE ON 

TOP OF THE OTHER. 

KOCHANSKI: Kryten, he doesn't like them like that. 

KRYTEN: Well, begging you pardon, ma'am, I've been 

with Mr Lister for many years now. I don't need some 

'Judy Come-Lately' advising me on his sleeping 

arrangements. 

KOCHANSKI: Kryten, in my dimension I co-habited with 

him... I think I know what makes him happy in bed... 

KRYTEN: So do I. A large packet of extra-spicy tortilla 

chips, and a really good horror movie - preferably 

featuring some scantily-clad, kung-fu fighting lady 

vampires. 

CAT: Hey, old five-fingers has checked out! 

KOCHANSKI: Oh my god, you mean..? 

CAT: No, not dead; checked out. He's gone. And about 

forty pounds of Incinerex blasting plastic has gone 

missing from supply bunker seven. You think there 

could be a connection..? 

STARBUG CARGO HOLD. 

KOCHANSKI: What are you doing? 

LISTER: I'm just popping down the corner shop. Does 

anyone want anything? 

KRYTEN: Sir, please, come back. There is no reason to 

return to the Leviathan. 

LISTER: It's the only way, Kryten. Get back over there, 

detonate this stuff, and destroy all traces of the virus. 

At least I'll rob it of the satisfaction of killing me. 

KOCHANSKI: Dave, close the airlock. What you're doing is 

insane. 

CAT: She's right. You've already screwed up the ping-pong 

tournaments, now you're gonna mess up the yo-yo 

championships too. 

KOCHANSKI: Dave, if you go through that door, I'll never 

speak to you again as long as you… Oh my god, just 

how stupid am I? 

KRYTEN: According to my calculations, ma'am -- 

KOCHANSKI: Kryten, shut up! 

page 31


DRIVE ROOM ABOARD THE LEVIATHAN. 

EPIDEME: Hey baby, what's this? The Christmas special? 

LISTER: That's right, man! And look what I got you: forty 

pounds of Incinerex. 

EPIDEME: It's macho, but it's not you. You get what I'm 

saying? 

LISTER: Let's set the timer for five minutes, shall we? 

STARBUG COCKPIT. 

LISTER [Mic]: Kryten, get Starbug well away from here! 

You've got five minutes. 

KOCHANSKI: Dave, listen to me. My Dave had a saying: 

"even the word 'hopeless' has 'hope' in it"... 

LISTER [Mic]: What the hell did that mean? I'm dead 

already. Use your eyes. I look worse than the Grim 

Reaper's passport photo. 

KRYTEN: Please give us more time, sir? The medicomp 

might still come up with an antidote. 

LISTER [Mic]: There's no point. Look, I haven't made a 

will... Kris? Under my bunk, I want you to have the 

collection of songs I wrote about you. 

KOCHANSKI: Collection? 

LISTER [Mic]: Well, three. There's only two things that 

rhyme with 'Kochanski'; I used 'underpantski' twice... 

Kryten, to you I leave all my laundry. Hey, keep it clean 

for me man. 

KRYTEN: Oh, sir, you're too generous. 

LISTER [Mic]: Cat, you can have anything you want from my 

wardrobe. 

CAT: I can? Great! I need some hangers! 

DRIVE ROOM ABOARD THE LEVIATHAN. 

LISTER: Sixty seconds left, epideme. 

EPIDEME: Dave, your heart says 'blow' but your brain says 

'no!'. You're no quitter - hell! - the people of this ship 

kept searching for a solution right until the end! 

They never gave up. 

LISTER: They didn't? 

EPIDEME: Hell, no! They even overloaded their engines - 

so sad, 'cause they were so near... 

LISTER: So near... They weren't running from something, 

but to something... Son-of-a-gun... Kryten, man, change 

of plan! 

page 32


STARBUG MEDIBAY. 

KRYTEN: Sir, I've been meaning to ask: as you retain 

specialist knowledge from each of your victims, and as 

the two of us have no gripe, I was wondering if you'd 

be kind enough to fill in some gaps in my knowledge? 

EPIDEME: Sure, shoot! I'm red hot in quantum mechanics, 

cell molecular biology and TV theme tunes! Ask me 

anything... 

KRYTEN: Very well. One thing I've always wanted to know: 

who on earth was the fourth Marx brother? 

EPIDEME: Zippo. Easy! Ask me a hard one. 

KRYTEN: A hard one? Very well. How could Starbug's 

drive module be reconfigured to be made more 

efficient? 

EPIDEME: Re-route the pulse relays by the auxilliary 

conductor node and transpose all the prime numbers in 

the first line of the alphabet to the energy equation. 

Thhbptptpt. 

KRYTEN: And that would make Starbug more efficient? 

EPIDEME: Three hundred percent faster! 

LISTER: That's all we needed to know. The Leviathan was 

heading for Delta 7 for the epideme cure. Trouble 

was, by the time we reached Delta 7 I'd be dead. 

KRYTEN: Unless we could work out a way of making 

the ship go faster. 

LISTER: And now we have... 

EPIDEME: Well I'll be the son-of-a-bacteria... 


KOCHANSKI: How're we doing? 

CAT: Like a speeding bullet stuck in the back end of a bat 

out of hell! Going into orbit right now. 

KOCHANSKI: Scanning surface... oh my god. The planet, it's 

been flamed - there's nothing down there! Not a 

building, not a plant... nothing... 

STARBUG MEDIBAY. 

KOCHANSKI: You knew, didn't you? 

EPIDEME: Hey, I had to do something to make Dave 

think there was hope. The whole planet was flamed to 

get rid of me! But I'd already left, in one of the Star 

Corps. medical engineers, who then made a housecall 

- to the Leviathan! 

CAT: How's it going? 

page 33


KRYTEN: Life signs almost gone, sir. 

EPIDEME: And in tomorrow's episode: Kris Kochanski has a 

nasty turn when Dave, her hilarious decomposing 

boyfriend, returns from the grave to infect her with a 

wacky, but charismatic, virus! Until then, good night... 

KOCHANSKI: Okay, last roll of the dice. Dave, I'm gonna 

stop your heart, okay? It's the last chance to save you, 

do you agree? 

LISTER: You're gonna prevent epideme from killing me 

by killing me..? 

KOCHANSKI: I'll take that as a yes... (pumps a shot into his 

heart) Is he..? 

KRYTEN: Dead!? Yes, ma'am! Careful Miss Kochanski, 

don't get too close to him! The epideme virus has 

transferred to you! It's infected your hand! 

EPIDEME: And the big showbiz news today is that, as 

expected, the long-running virus, epideme, has been 

renewed for another season! 

KOCHANSKI: Wrong, bug-head! You're axed! 

SHE PICKS UP THE LASER SAW AND RAISES IT OVER THE INFECTED ARM. 

KRYTEN: Miss Kochanski, ma'am! Have you gone 

completely insane?!? 

KOCHANSKI: It was Caroline Carmen's - I injected it with 

blood and adreneline! 

KRYTEN: That really is quite extraordinary... I had you 

marked down as a bit of a madam, but I really have 

to accept that I'm going to have to get to like you at 

that. I mean, you do annoy me to some degree but, 

really, that -- Mr Lister! 

LISTER: Oh, where have I been? 

KRYTEN: Well, for the last few minutes, sir, you've been 

dead... 

KOCHANSKI: How did it feel? 

LISTER: Ever been to Swindon? (Kochanski places a gentle 

kiss on Lister's forehead) What's that for? 

KOCHANSKI: For not staying dead! 

page 34


STARBUG MID-SECTION. LISTER PLAYING THE GUITAR. 

Nanarchy 

KRYTEN: Oh, bravo, sir! You see, there's no need for 

despondency; you can still play the guitar! 

LISTER: Yeah, look on the bright side... at least now I'm 

only half crap... 

KRYTEN: We should still count all our blessings, sir. 

KOCHANSKI: Kryten's right; the Epideme virus may have 

cost you a limb but there are countless people who 

have lost an arm, and then gone on to lead a perfectly 

normal life. 

LISTER: Like who? 

KRYTEN: Oh, there are thousands, sir. Thousands upon 

thousands upon thousands. More than thousands. 

Millions! 

LISTER: Who? 

KRYTEN: Well, I don't know if I could name them all 

individually, but - 

LISTER: Name one. 

KRYTEN: One? You want me to name as many as that? 

KOCHANSKI: Lord Nelson. He beat the French. 

LISTER: Who else? 

KOCHANSKI: The Venus de Milo. 

KRYTEN: The Venus de Milo. No arms at all, but that 

certainly didn't prevent her from pursuing a highly 

successful modelling career. 

LISTER: Go on. You said there were millions; that's two, 

and one of them is a statue. So go on: name five. 

KRYTEN: Five? Right, well... there's Lord Nelson, and Miss 

De Milo, and then there's the, well... 

CAT: The painter dude! 

LISTER: What 'painter dude'? 

CAT: The Welsh guy. You know? The one with one arm! 

Van G-g-gogh. 

LISTER: He had one ear, Cat. He cut the other one off. 

CAT: Did he? See? That dude manages to cut off his own 

ear with just one arm, and you're worried about not 

leading a normal life. 

KOCHANSKI: There must be more... that guy from 'The 

Fugitive'! He had one arm, what was his name? 

LISTER: 'The One-Armed Man'. 

page 35


KOCHANSKI: That's him! See? That's three. 

LISTER: He was a murderer. He killed Dr. Richard Kimbal's 

wife. 

KOCHANSKI: But that proves my point. If that guy can 

murder a perfectly able-bodied woman, minus a 

major extremity, then I don't think you've got anything 

to worry about. 

LISTER: Come on, let's face it guys: there aren't any 

noteworthy one-armed people from history - you can't 

even name five. 

KOCHANSKI: Of course we can! Look: Horatio Nelson; the 

one-armed guy from 'The Fugitive'; the Venus de Milo; 

Van Gogh, and... one more... 

CAT: That Mexican dude! The one who robbed people! 

LISTER: What one who robbed people? 

CAT: The one-armed bandit..! 

LISTER: That's a machine, you gimp! One of the most 

popular pub games of the twentieth century. 

CAT: And it only had one arm? What a heart-warming 

story... 

KOCHANSKI: Dave Lister. There, that's five. 

LISTER: I'm going to the loo. I don't actually need to go 

now, but seeing as it takes me forty five minutes to 

unbutton my fly, I should probably make a start... 

KOCHANSKI: Do you need a hand..? Oh my god! I'm sorry, I 

didn't mean that... 

KRYTEN: Biscuit, sir? Another bik-bik? 

KOCHANSKI: Kryten… What are you doing? 

KRYTEN: I'm just dunking bikkies, ma'am. It's another of 

life's joys, of which poor Mr Lister has been robbed. 

Isn't that right, sir? 

LISTER: Could you give my nose a tweak? I've got a bit 

of an itch. 

KOCHANSKI: Why can't you itch it yourself? You've still got 

one arm. 

KRYTEN: There. Is that better, sir? 

LISTER: Yeah, a bit. 

KOCHANSKI: Kryten, I told you before: he wants to be 

independent. He doesn't need you running around 

after him like he's some kind of invalid. 

KRYTEN: But he does! Don't you, sir? Another slurp of 

tea, sir? 

KOCHANSKI: Oh, this is making me sick. 

page 36


KRYTEN: Take no notice of her, sir. It's nearly 

suppertime. Chuckie-eggs tonight, sir, which your toast 

cut up into little, tiny, weeny, bite-sized soldiers of 

varying ranks. 

LISTER: Thanks, Kryts, but maybe I can cut up my own 

toast? 

KRYTEN: Now just remember, sir: Kryten knows best! 

LISTER: I wanna stretch my legs... take a walk around 

the ship. 

KRYTEN: Just opening the door for you, sir. There we go, 

the door's open, sir. Just closing the door now, sir. The 

door's closing, sir, the door's nearly closed, and it's 

closed, sir. 

KOCHANSKI: Florence Nightingdroid, could I have a word? 

KRYTEN: Certainly, ma'am. 

KOCHANSKI: Look, deep down I'm a big softie. The first 

time I saw Gone With The Wind I went through a 

whole box of tissues. 'Now Voyager' I was so choked 

up I couldn't speak for twenty minutes. 

KRYTEN: I'll make a note, ma'am... 'Now Voyager'. 

Worth keeping on stand-by... Carry on, ma'am! 

KOCHANSKI: I'm saying, I'm not a heartless bitch. So you'll 

understand that what I'm about to say isn't easy: 

Back off Lister - let him learn to cope on his own, 

it's the only way. 

KRYTEN: I don't understand, ma'am. 

KOCHANSKI: By helping him, you're not helping him. 

KRYTEN: But if it wasn't for me he wouldn't even be 

wearing underpants! 

KOCHANSKI: Have you ever heard of something called 

'tough love'? 

KRYTEN: Does it involve dressing up? 

KOCHANSKI: No. It means, sometimes to help a person 

you have to get tough! Make them stand on their own 

two feet, or in Lister's case, one hand! 

KRYTEN: I see. So you think it's time to let him start 

brushing his own teeth again? 

KOCHANSKI: I do, yes. I also think it's time you built him an 

artificial arm and gave him the chance not to be so 

dependent on you. 

KRYTEN: I was meaning to get around to that, ma'am, 

but, what with being on twenty-four hour 'wipe alert', 

I haven't had time! 

page 37


KOCHANSKI: 'Wipe alert'? No! Don't even tell me what 

that means. I have a feeling I know, and if I'm right, it's 

the grossest thing I have ever heard! 

KRYTEN: I mean his mouth... I help him get rid of the 

crumbs around his mouth..? 

KOCHANSKI: Yeah... that's what I thought... And it's 

absolutely gross! Disgusting. 

LISTER & CAT ARE SAT AT THE SCANNER TABLE ACROSS A DRAUGHTS BOARD. 

CAT: It's a real son-of-a-bitch about your arm, bud. 

Losing an arm... that is one terrible thing. Can you 

imagine that? One minute you got two arms and the 

next: vreeee, doof - you got one. Phewwwie. That's 

tough. And it stands to reason we must need two 

arms - that's why we got two arms. Well, except you. 

You're probably wondering: "is it going to affect my 

life?" But I've been thinking about this and I think the 

answer is: "Yes, it is". If it were me, I couldn't survive. 

First chance I get I'd climb to the top of my highest pair 

of platform boots and leap to my death or something. 

I couldn't stand the thought of not being perfect. 

But with you I think it's different. Take a pit bull terrier, 

a real ugly son-of-a-bitch. It loses its leg, somehow, and 

the pit bull says to you "hey man, I've only got three legs, 

will lady pit bulls still like me?" I mean, you've got to 

stop from laughing, haven't you? He's ugly with four 

legs! He's ugly with three! Hell, he'd be ugly if you put 

him in a suit and gave him a carnation. So here's 

something I think is gonna cheer you up! 

LISTER: It's your move. 

CAT: Okay, okay, I'm going..! I don't think you've been 

listening to a thing I've said..! 

KRYTEN: Right, now this is a copy of the standard model 

from the 21st century. Okay, now let's recap: the limb 

is connected to neurons which run up to the left 

hemisphere of your brain, which controls the right side 

of your body. Now, all you have to do is merely 

command the arm to do something, and it obeys. Now, 

let's practice. I want you to think: "arm - pick up the 

ball". Now just think: "I will pick up the ball." That's right, 

good, now, concentrate. Now, focus down onto that and 

keep the thought, sir! Hand, pick up the ball! That's right, 

sir, now keep going, now really think, now. Hand, pick 

up the ball! Now let's really get it going, sir! Pick up 

the ball! REALLY START TO GO NOW, SIR! HAND, 

PICK UP THE BALL, NOW LET'S KEEP MOVING! 

page 38


KEEP ON, SIR, YOU CAN DO IT! YOU'RE GOING 

TO MOVE THAT HAND, SIR! WE'RE STARTING TO 

MOVE, NOW! YES! IT'S DEFINITELY MOVING, SIR! 

YES! Oh! Bravo, sir! 

LISTER: Oh! The sweat's dripping off me! 

KRYTEN: Oh, that was fantastic, sir! Absolutely marvellous, 

it worked like a dream! 

LISTER: Is that it? 

KRYTEN: Well, er, how do you mean, sir? 

LISTER: Is that the best it works? 

KRYTEN: In what way? 

LISTER: If I want to pick up a ball, am I going to have to 

take the morning off? 

KRYTEN: It was a tad slow, I'm forced to admit. 

LISTER: A tad? The only thing I've ever seen pick up 

slower is Rimmer in a disco. 

KRYTEN: Well, maybe if I adjust the impulse valve it might 

make it a little more sensitive. Okay, let's try again: 

"Hand, pick up the ball". I think, sir, there's a lot of anger 

inside you, and that's what's driving the arm. You've 

lost your arm, sir, you've every right to feel angry. It's 

subconscious. You're thinking "hand, pick up the ball", 

but your subconscious is saying "punch Kryten in the 

head; beat the brains out of the demented droid that 

cut off my beloved arm". Am I right? 

LISTER: Kryten, that's rubbish! … You're right! It's 

controlled by my subconscious! 

KRYTEN: It's far too dangerous to let you out with that 

arm, sir. Two minutes with Miss Kochanski and who 

knows what you'd be swinging around your head! 

KOCHANSKI: There must be a solution to this. 

CAT: Hey, half-eaten lollipop head: what about one of your 

spares? Wha'd'ya say, motherboarder? 

KRYTEN: Too heavy, sir. With the strain and extra weight 

it would be impossible for Mr Lister even to get it up. 

CAT: He could always take it off if he was going on a date. 

LISTER: Can someone take him outside and do something 

to him? Ideally involving icecubes and any puckered 

body cavity. 

KOCHANSKI: Wait a minute... what about your self-repair 

system? Can't that help? When you have a mechanical 

failure, it fixes itself, doesn't it? The Kryten back in my 

dimension had these tiny little robots... sub-atomic..? 

page 39


KRYTEN: Nanobots. They break objects down into their 

component atoms and then recombine those atoms to 

repair damaged circuits. Nanotechnology. 

CAT: Er, just for me: could you run that by me one more 

time, but this time do the big writing version, with 

pictures. One word per page? 

KRYTEN: Let me think of a cogent paradigm... 

CAT: I'd rather have a good example..? 

KRYTEN: This is a lead pencil. It's made of graphite, which is 

a particular arrangement of carbon atoms. This is 

diamond, it too is made of carbon atoms. Nanobots 

can rearrange atoms so they could take this lead 

pencil, move the atoms around a bit, and turn it into 

diamond. 

CAT: It's possible to make diamonds out of pencils? 

KRYTEN: It's also possible to make computer chips out of 

sand. 

KOCHANSKI: So, what happens if we transferred some of 

your nanobots into Dave? Wouldn't they be able to 

build him a new arm from his excess body tissue? 

KRYTEN: Unfortunately, ma'am, it's not possible. I no 

longer have any nanobots, sir. They deserted me. When 

and where I can't be exactly certain. 

LISTER: But if we were to find these nanobots, could they 

build me a new arm? 

KRYTEN: Oh, but finding them would be close to 

impossible, sir. It would be like looking for a needle in 

a male student's flat. 

KOCHANSKI: When was the last repair they made? 

KRYTEN: When we were on the Esperanto, just before we 

met the Despair Squid. 

LISTER: That was ages ago; before we lost the Dwarf. 

KRYTEN: That's why I've given up hope of ever finding 

them. 

LISTER: Let's set a course back to the Esperanto. 

KRYTEN: But I promise you it's futile, sir… I'll start 

preparing the suspended animation booths... 

LISTER: Hang on a minute, we're not there... where the 

smeg are we? 

KOCHANSKI: The computer's brought us out of Deep Sleep 

early, it must have picked up something. 

LISTER: Maybe it's something to do with this planetoid 

directly ahead? 

page 40


KRYTEN: Just scanning, sir. No, that's ridiculous... It's not 

even worth mentioning, ma'am. Must be a scanner 

fault. Re-scanning. What? Again? 

LISTER: What is it, man? You look shakier than a silicon 

implant ward during an earthquake. 

KRYTEN: Well, according to all our scanners, that 

planetoid out there is... Red Dwarf... 

LISTER: Bahh, must be on the blink. 

KOCHANSKI: Of course it's on the blink! We're talking 

about the same piece of equipment that last month 

detected a planet entirely populated by air hostesses. 

KRYTEN: We spent two weeks checking that out. 

CAT: I knew we gave up too soon! It was worth at least 

one more week. 

KRYTEN: However, there is one additional factor. 

KOCHANSKI: Which is..? 

KRYTEN: That we've been here before. 

CAT: Of course we have, it's the cockpit, dummy! We 

come here all the time. 

KRYTEN: In this sector of the galaxy, sir... Doesn't it look 

familiar? 

LISTER: Kryten, it's space. Black with twinkly bits. It all 

looks familiar. 

KRYTEN: If you look to the port side, sir, that planet in the 

distance is the ocean world where we discovered the 

Esperanto. 

LISTER: That was just before we lost Red Dwarf... are you 

thinking what I'm thinking? 

CAT: I'm thinking wearing leather underpants with silver 

studs is a real mistake if you put them on inside out. 

What are you thinking? 

LISTER: Me? I'm thinking about a wooden mallet, you and 

icecubes, again. 

KRYTEN: This planetoid, let's check it out. 

KOCHANSKI: According to the weather scan it's beautiful 

down there. Tropical temperatures, not a cloud in 

sight! Suggest we dress for snow and take the buggy. 

LISTER: Okay, I'm gonna take some readings and grab 

some soil samples. 

CAT: Looks kinda blowy. 

KOCHANSKI: It's an electric storm, whooshing the sand 

about. 

CAT: You can say that again. There must be more 

electricity out there than the surge that went through 

page 41


the national grid during the commercial break in the 

Olympic all-girls custard wrestling finals! 

LISTER: Phew! 

KOCHANSKI: I can't believe you're here. How did you 

persuade Kryten to let you out? 

LISTER: He's not my mum, Kris. I hope the Cat's not too 

long, I promised he'd be back by tea. Can I ask you 

a question? Now that I've got no arm... does it - does 

it make any difference to anything? I mean, if you 

were a female pit bull terrier, how would you feel 

about a three-legged -- Does it make any difference to... 

well, plucking any old relationship out of the air, 

us? 

KOCHANSKI: Dave, before you lost your arm, I thought 

you were a no-good, disgusting bum. And I still do. 

So, no, none at all. 

LISTER: I need to know, is this going to make any difference 

to women? 

KOCHANSKI: Losing an arm isn't going to make any 

difference to any woman who cares about you. Okay? 

LISTER: Really? What about sex? 

KOCHANSKI: Not here, it's too sandy. 

ENTER CAT. 

KOCHANSKI: How'd you get on? 

CAT: Take a look. 

LISTER: This sand... these atoms didn't start out as sand 

atoms! They've been engineered, nanobotically! 

KOCHANSKI: From what? 

LISTER: Computer chips, you name it! According to the 

particle analyser, this planetoid's Red Dwarf... 

CAT: I'm gonna need some help! There's a lot of stuff out 

there, looks like it might be worth checking out! 

LISTER: What stuff? 

CAT: Hey, it feels like the storm's easing off! Come and 

see for yourself! 

KRYTEN: Oh, I was beginning to worry! Oh! What on 

earth is this? 

LISTER: The whole damn planetoid's packed with stuff 

from Red Dwarf. Supplies, bunks, drinks dispensers, you 

name it. It's like a giant car boot sale! 

CAT: I think we got some valuable stuff! 

page 42


LISTER: What... napkin rings? A box of hairnet requisition 

forms? A motorised tie rack and an inflatable shark? 

What a haul... 

KOCHANSKI: There must be some useful stuff... 

CAT: I couldn't see what I was getting... 

HOLLY: All right, dudes? 

LISTER: What the smeg are you doing here, Hol? 

HOLLY: Those little wotsits... 

KOCHANSKI: Nanobots? 

HOLLY: They remolecurised... they remolic... they remol... 

anyway, they did that word that I can't say to the whole 

ship, and left all the bits they didn't want on that 

planetoid! 

LISTER: What, they fixed your core program, and then 

decided they'd be better off without you? 

HOLLY: Yeah, it was shortly after they'd met me. 

KRYTEN: Well, from one machine to another: welcome 

back online, Holly! 

HOLLY: What's happened to him..? That's quite horrific, 

isn't it? What was it, a cheap razor? It's just not worth 

buying them from garages, is it. 

KRYTEN: Don't you remember me? I'm Kryten. 

HOLLY: Kryten? I'm sorry, mate, it's the way the light was 

shining on your... what's the word? Face, I suppose. Just 

didn't recognise you for a minute. Never forget a face, 

usually, never. 

LISTER: So, while we were on the Esperanto, your 

nanobots mutinied and took over Red Dwarf? 

KRYTEN: They wanted a ship. In my body there was nothing 

new to explore, but Red Dwarf itself was far too big. 

KOCHANSKI: But they're nanobots; they can change 

anything into anything else. 

LISTER: Yeah, they can take a Pot Noodle and turn it into 

food! 

KOCHANSKI: So, they took Red Dwarf, made a sub-atomic 

version, and turned the rest of the atoms into a 

planetoid for safekeeping? 

CAT: Well what was it we spent months chasing? 

What was producing that vapour trail? 

KRYTEN: Red Dwarf. 

CAT: Did someone just turn over two pages at once? 

KRYTEN: We were chasing the nano-Red Dwarf, that's why 

the readings were so hard to pinpoint. 

KOCHANSKI: So, now, they could be anywhere? You 

pursued them across half the galaxy. 

page 43


LISTER: Until we finally lost track of the readings - 

probably because of a scanner malfunction... 

HOLLY: That, or they went somewhere out of the reach 

of your scanners. 

CAT: But we were gaining on them, bud. How could they 

outrun us? 

HOLLY: Scanners are programmed to scan on the outside. 

To escape, they just had to stop. 

KOCHANSKI: You mean, the nanos could be in here? On 

board Starbug somewhere? 

KRYTEN: Re-calibrating scanner, sir. Performing internal 

sweep. 

LISTER: What are you getting..? 

KRYTEN: Nothing yet... just two pieces of Bombay aloa 

you dropped several millenia ago down the service 

ducts, where they appear to have evolved a 

rudimentary intelligence and formed a progressive folk 

duo. 

LISTER: Keep going. 

KRYTEN: Narrowing parameters. Oh... oh my... you were 

right, sir. I think we've found them. 

LISTER: Where? … So Red Dwarf spent the last two years 

exploring strange new worlds in my laundry basket? 

KRYTEN: Of course! The ship is now so small that, to the 

nanos, a hole in one of your athletic supports is at least 

the size of a galaxy! 

LISTER: Hey, I like the sound of that: Dave Lister, the 

man with the galaxy-sized jockstrap! 

HOLLY: The little scamps! It's the oldest trick in the 

book: capture your ship, turn it into a planet, then 

explore a macro universe in a laundry basket. How could 

you fall for an old scam like that? 

KRYTEN: Heh! Nailed the little blighters! After all the 

embarrassment they've caused me! 

LISTER: Kris, see if you can find a frequency to establish 

contact..? 

KRYTEN: Leave it to me, sir. I know how to make 

contact... Can you hear me, you pesky little critters? 

We want our ship back, and we want a new arm for Mr 

Lister! Are you receiving me? Aha, we have contact... 

They're communicating in machine code; leave the 

talking to me. Have you any idea what you've done? 

Deserting your droid, you've broken every reg in the 

manual! And to compound matters by stealing our 

ship, it's unbelievably..! Naughty! Now, listen up, 

here's the deal: we want that planetoid turned 

page 44


back into Red Dwarf, and we also want you to build a 

new arm for Mr Lister. If you don't, you'll get more of 

this... 

LISTER: So they'll really manufacture me a new arm, from 

my existing skin and bone tissue? 

KRYTEN: I've got them worked up into such a frenzy, 

sir, they'll do anything I say! 

LISTER: Where are they? 

KRYTEN: Here. On the tip of my finger, sir. Millions and 

millions of them. All I have to do now is insert them 

into your body. 

KOCHANSKI: I can't bear to look... has it worked? 

Someone tell me! 

KRYTEN: Let's all turn around, after three. 

CAT: One - two - three! 

THE NANOBOTS HAVE TAKEN EVERY BIT OF TISSUE AND MUSCLE, TURNING 

LISTER INTO A STEROID-ADDICTED BODYBUILDER. 

LISTER: Did it work? 

KRYTEN: It's been a one hundred percent success, sir. In 

fact, it's been a five hundred percent success! In fact, 

they've... Well, if that's all, sir, I think I'll retire for the 

evening, good night! 

LISTER: Release me, Kris, I've got to see it. 

KOCHANSKI: They probably didn't mean any harm... I 

think they were trying to make up for before... we'll 

get them to have another go, okay? 

page 45

red dwarf – season seven

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