"SURVIVAL OF THE LOWEST"

Amazingly, Holly managed to save all his important data files on Starbug's computer before the disaster. Unfortunately for the crew, Holly considered his image files, aural circuits and Encyclopaedia of Fashionable Toupees to be the most important pieces of data to save. The Cat was mortified when he found his entire wardrobe had been shrunk to the size of a pea, until Kryten pointed out the Cat could finally have his greatest wish granted. By sewing Red Dwarf into a button on one of his suits, the Cat can now wear his entire wardrobe at the same time.

Rimmer has returned to the crew after having one too many dreams about messing up an important rescue and ending up being permanently remembered as the Ace Rimmer who couldn't even swim five metres into a river to rescue a small child. Needless to say, he was able to find a replacement from another dimension and returned to the crew. The 'Welcome Back' party he threw for himself was the crew's first Hammond Organ recital for nearly a year. If Lister still missed Rimmer, three verses of "Roll out the Barrel" was enough to have him grinding his teeth within seconds.

Kochanski has finally decided to stop looking for her perfect Dave, mainly because she thinks he will no longer be in love with her now she wears the same underwear for more than one day and downs a can of larger in under eight seconds. However, that doesn't mean she has fallen for Lister who at the moment seems to be quite content in pursuing his latest hobby with Kryten, Beer Can Art which involves Lister gluing crushed beer cans all over the mechanoid to make him look more arty. But as Rimmer puts it, "It's like sharing a ship with Robocop"

The Adventures Continue....

1. Int. Battlecruiser. Cockpit.

We see the inside of a giant spaceship, there are strange robots wandering around. Everything is very ominous. We see in particular two huge furry figures (think Chewbacca) sitting at the controls. A caption appears beside them: Frazacorckfreg and Tregrnaatisisi (TRANSLATION: Bob and Dave) Tregarftsafred gratefarllkrteyrs cabritsanscors (TRANSLATION: Technicians, Third Class on the Starship Gitantica of the Sacred Order of Dawratiga. Also known as SOD.)
All the dialogue is said in the same language with subtitles as below.

BOB: Anything on scanners?
DAVE: Nope, I've seen more interesting things crawling all over my scalp.
BOB: The boss was sure there were humans here....
DAVE: How did he know?
BOB: He found some of their weapons and instruments of torture floating in a pod (he holds up a beer can) We believe this is a device for crushing sexual organs.
DAVE: Brutal....
BOB: (Holds up one of Lister's old T-shirt) They appear to have developed lethal chemical weapons.
DAVE: How barbaric! (Holds up one of Lister's half eaten curries) What's this?
BOB: We believe it to be the remains of one of the creatures they tortured. As you can see, they have no mercy whatsoever.

Suddenly an alarm flashes

DAVE: We've found them!
BOB: I'll call the boss.

A few seconds later, another Chewbacca lookalike walks in

BOSS: This better be good, I was just being de-fleaed.
DAVE: We've found the humans, sir.
BOSS: Are you sure it's them?
BOB: We're just identifying the ship.

We see a panel light up with the schematics of Starbug.

BOSS: Show me their captain.

Another picture appears, this time it is of Rimmer in a very sad matcho pose. Underneath it says: "Captain Arnold J. Rimmer, Space Adventurer", there is also a section labelled 'Additional Information' which has obviously been filled in by Lister as it says "Total Smeghead.”

BOSS: This is him....the scourge of all people.
BOB: What shall we do, Boss?
BOSS: What day is it today?
DAVE: Third Quarter after Quasaquom.
BOSS: That means it is our day of rest....Ah well, seeing as it's a public holiday we'll just blow up their ship, take prisoners and conduct mean and hideous tortures.
BOB: A good plan, sir!
BOSS: Prepare the attack....I can only guess as to what putrifyingly disgusting things they are doing at this very moment...

2. Int. Starbug. Lister’s Sleeping Quarters.

We see Lister grimacing and looking in great pain. We can only see his face, he is shouting very loudly

LISTER: Please! Kriss! No more! I'm begging you! I can't take any more!!

We pan out to see Kochasnki behind him trying to help him put on a pair of jeans. Most of the following dialogue is shouted, or said very angrily etc.

KOCHANSKI: Almost there!
LISTER: Just face it, Kriss, I can't fit into Size 14s any more!
KOCHASNKI: Just try, Dave!
LISTER: I told you (gasp) I'm perfectly happy with long johns!
KOCHASNKI: No way! I'm not spending another day in the cockpit with those horrible things! Last week I had to completely reprogram Holly because he was convinced we had a flood of urine all over the ship!
LISTER: But I hate jeans! It's like having a fat barmaid permanently clinging on to both your legs!
KOCHASNKI: I agree you may have to lose all comfort and be forced to be in constant agony....but that is what fashion is all about!
LISTER: Now I know why 20th Century models were so thin, they'd have all suffocated otherwise!

There is a little more struggling before Kochanski lets go, Lister falls over. They both lie there, trying to get their breath back. As they're lying there, Rimmer walks in. He is surprised to find them near each other, panting with Lister's trousers loose.

RIMMER: Not interrupting, am I?
KOCHASNKI: No, I was just finishing.
RIMMER: (Jumping to the wrong impression) Oh really? Are you sure? Because if you want another few minutes of sordid passion then I'll go. But could you please stop bashing against the floor whilst you're at it, we're trying to pilot the ship from down there and it sounds like a Sumo Wrestling Convention!
LISTER: Rimmer, man, it's not like that. Kriss was just helping me put on my trousers....
RIMMER: Why? Did they get damaged when she ripped them off with her teeth?
KOCHASNKI: (Angrily) Rimmer! I was just trying to teach Dave a little about co-ordinated dress wear and how to look slightly less disgusting than a baboon in a tar pit! The least you can do is be supportive!

The Cat walks in

CAT: Hey guys! What's happening? (Sees Lister) Woah! Why the hell are you wearing those? They look about as co-ordinated as the Swedish entry in 'Come Jiving'!
LISTER: That's it...I'm going back to long johns.
KOCHASNKI: Oh no! Listen, maybe if we just got your waist a bit slimmer...you should try one of my diet books, you'll lose weight in no time. I know it may be an inconvenience if you have to throw up after every meal, but trust me, you do get used to it after a while!

Holly appears on a monitor wearing a long black wig

HOLLY: All right, dudes?
LISTER: Holly, what the smeg is that?
HOLLY: I'm changing my image, Dave. According to my database, this'll take twenty years off my life.
RIMMER: Twenty years off your sanity, more like.
KOCHASNKI: It doesn't look very good.
CAT: Yeah! I've seen more fashionable hippies!

Kryten walks in

KRYTEN: Good morning, sirs.

He sees Lister and Kochanski on the floor, Holly with his wig and Rimmer and Cat standing nearby

KRYTEN: (Quietly) Activate lie mode.... (Loudly) Well hello, everyone. What a normal say it is! In fact, if there was ever a day which could be classified as normal then I think this one would be it. Maybe we ought to call it 'Normal Day'...
LISTER: It's all right, Kryten. Nothing's going on.
KRTYEN: Sir, I haven't heard such a blatant lie since you tried to hide from me exactly what humans do with suppositories.

Suddenly there is a huge explosion, everyone is thrown to the ground.

RIMMER: Oh, marvellous. Just what we needed...

Everyone looks at Holly

HOLLY: Umm....I believe we're under attack.
KOCHASNKI: What by?
HOLLY: Err...George Jetson?
RIMMER: Come back, Hal, all is forgiven. Even if you were a mass murdering psycho....
LISTER: Let's get down the cockpit!

Everyone leaves, Holly is still onscreen for a moment

HOLLY: Maybe I'll try ginger...

3. Int. Starbug. Front Cockpit

Rimmer and Cat run in first followed by Kryten and Kochasnki. Lister runs in pulling on a pair of trousers.

KOCHASNKI: (Eyes closed) Can somebody tell me when it's all over!
KRYTEN: Mamn, I know it's scary being under attack but we really need your assistance here....
KOCHASNKI: I was talking about Lister getting dressed.
RIMMER: Don't worry about it, Miss Kochasnki, you get used to it after the first year or so. Mind you, I've never been able to watch documentaries about whales mating in quite the same light after seeing some of the hideous creatures Lister has been attached to in the past couple of years. I thought I was ready for any horror. (Sees Kochasnki staring at him) Oh, I didn't mean you, Miss Kochasnki.
KOCHASNKI: I should think so.
RIMMER: You were one of the better ones, at least you had the decency to do it in your own cabin. But there was that barmaid on Io....there was so much thrashing and stretching that I seriously thought that bunk would collapse on top of me. I spent all night trying to pry it up with a couple of skutters......
LISTER: Let's just get on with the job in hand, OK?
CAT: If it means you'll get dressed quicker, sure!
KRYTEN: I've got a picture of the attacking craft, punching it up.

We see a fuzzy photo of some sort of spaceship

CAT: What the heck is that!
KRYTEN: I'm sorry about the picture quality, sir, but I hadn't got around to fixing the camera system since Lister reprogrammed it.
LISTER: (Very quickly) Thank you, Kryten. Now about this attack...
KOCHASNKI: (Interested) Hold on a sec...what do you mean?
KRYTEN: Well for some bizarre reason, Mr. Lister seemed to concentrate all the imaging software onto one camera on A-Deck. I can't think why.
RIMMER: Well what's on A-Deck?
LISTER: I can't remember....
KOCHASNKI: There's nothing on A-Deck except the kitchens, some storage and my quarters....

Everyone looks at Lister

LISTER: What's the matter? Am I the only person on this ship with an interest in amateur photography?
KRYTEN: Very amateur if those initial shots were anything to go by, sir.
KOCHASNKI: (Angrily) What exactly were they pictures of?
KRYTEN: I can't recall exactly, but I remember thinking that Mr. Lister had a very keen interest in beds....
LISTER: Well what else am I supposed to do on a ship where the only magazines are "Up, Up and Away", a few copies of Rimmer's "Angling Today" and Kriss' back catalogue of "Cosmopolitan"?
KOCHASNKI: How did you know about my Cosmopolitans?
LISTER: They were the only thing I could find under your bed.
KOCHANSKI: I can't believe you guys! It's like being in a 24 hour peep show!
CAT: Are you saying you have a problem with that?
KOCHASNKI: What has society sunk to when the only use you can find for photography is to get cheap shots of my bed?
CAT: Err...guys, in case anyone forgot we're still in mortal danger here...

Suddenly there is another huge explosion, everyone is thrown out of their seats.

LISTER: What are we going to do?
RIMMER: Maybe if we ignore them they'll just get bored and go away!
KOCHASNKI: Where's Holly?

Holly appears on screen, he's totally bald

CAT: Ahhh! It's a dog!!
HOLLY: All right, dudes. Didn't mean to startle you.
LISTER: What the smeg is that, Hol?
HOLLY: Well, I was looking for a new style and then I remembered the old saying that 'bald people have more fun'.
KRYTEN: I think you'll find that it's blondes, sir.
HOLLY: Is it? Now why did I get those two mixed up?
RIMMER: Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you're stark raving mad?
KOCHASNKI: Actually, Rimmer, some people find bald men very attractive.
LISTER: (Uncomfortably) Really?....What sort of people?
KOCHASNKI: Oh, anyone really. There's just something about the bald scalp of a man which really turns some women on....

Camera pans from Kryten to Holly

KOCHASNKI: ....or so I've read.
LISTER: (Still uncomfortable, now clutching his dreadlocks with a worried look on his face) So you don't like bald men in general?
KOCHASNKI: Not really, no.

Lister kisses his dreadlocks and puts them back behind his head

KOCHASNKI: Mind you, I'm more worried about actual hairstyles than anything else. Stuff like dreadlocks is just such a big turn-off.
LISTER: How big? Big enough to ruin a heated moment of passion?
KOCHANSKI: I'd be more afraid of getting carpet burns than indulging in any passion.
CAT: (Pointing to Lister's hair) Those things came off a carpet? No wonder you can never wash them properly...
RIMMER: (Very anxiously) Excuse me! I know you may all find it incredibly interesting to be talking about the excuse for fuzz that sleeps atop Lister's head, but we are under attack here!
KRYTEN: Actually, sir, I believe they have stopped firing...

Another explosion hits the ship

KRYTEN: I stand corrected, they do appear to be firing at us.
LISTER: It's like they're firing at every few minute intervals. What's going on, Holly?
HOLLY: I think we've just encountered a new race of beings we have not seen before I'll check my databases to see if I can identify them...
CAT: Whatever they are, they're firing strong stuff! Those lasers have more energy than Hermann Goering in Saturday Night Fever!
KOCHASNKI: I think you'll find that was John Travolta...
CAT: Well, it was some guy who liked dressing in womens' shirts.
HOLLY: I have identified the aliens suing information collaborated from my Toupee encyclopaedia and the Ladybird Book of Gestalt Entities.
RIMMER: What are they?
HOLLY: They're a particularly violent race of murderous hairy GELFs who were created by humans in order to try and get rid of all the other GELFs and Simulants who they created before and suddenly decided weren't such a great idea after all.
KOCHASNKI: So why are they attacking us?
HOLLY: I think a couple millennia of solitude and loneliness flying around space with only their fleas for company has driven them against their masters and turned them against us.
LISTER: Is it just me, or do all GELFs we meet seem to have done that?
KRYTEN: I've got some more information....apparently they've been following us since Red Dwarf was compacted.....after retrieving some of the debris and through perusing us, they think we're the sort of humans who enjoy cruel and unusual torture.
RIMMER: Was this that day last week when we let Lister play his guitar?
HOLLY: They're not negotiating....they want to see us fry slower than a beefburger on a British made barbecue.
CAT: So what do we do?
RIMMER: Well, you know my feelings of the subject....
KOCHASNKI: No way, Rimmer. We're not surrendering.
RIMMER: Very well. You'll excuse me then if I carry out my normal defensive procedure.

Rimmer disappears out to Mid-Section

LISTER: I think we should commemorate that scanner table to him.
KRYTEN: How do you mean?
LISTER: You know, stick a plaque on it saying 'Arnold Rimmer Had a Little Cry Under Here' or something. There's probably more tears down there than at the World Onion Slicing Championships!
CAT: Right! He's got less bottle than a meeting of 'Alcoholics Anonymous'!
KOCHASNKI: I don't understand how he managed to get into the Space Corps in the first place....don't you have to undergo a survival course to become a technician?
LISTER: Kriss, to become a technician you just have to have a brain and at least two functioning limbs. How do you think Peterson managed it?
HOLLY: OK, dudes. I've calculated that the ship is firing exactly every three minutes.
KRYTEN: Why every three minutes?
HOLLY: I dunno...I may have an IQ of 6000 but that doesn't mean I can interpret the behaviour of mass murderous killing machines.
LISTER: It's easy, Hol. You just walk up and say 'hi', and if they fire their guns at you then you can assume they're hostile.
CAT: Either that or you're just too damn ugly!
KRYTEN: Maybe we can use their firing pattern to our advantage.
KOCHASNKI: How?
KRYTEN: Well, if we accelerate straight ahead after the next burst, we will have three minutes to get a good distance ahead and be able to dodge the next burst, maybe we can even use it to propel us forward.
KOCHASNKI: Do you realise that if we fly away, they might become even more hostile and fire quicker?
CAT: (Surprised) Are you saying they can change how often they fire? That's so unfair! How do we get a chance to escape if we don't know how often they fire?
LISTER: That's the idea, Cat.
CAT: And that's how war is fought? No wonder you monkeys kept dying, you all cheated!
KOCHASNKI: Let's just keep to the job in hand. Personally, I think Kryten's idea is totally stupid, deranged and witless......I guess that means we'll be doing it.
LISTER: You got it.
CAT: She's getting good at this, isn't she?
LISTER: Holly, give me full power!
HOLLY: OK, switching to full power.

A little light on the control panel reading 'Full Power' switches on. No other changes are evident

LISTER: Thanks, Hol.

We see Starbug turn and fly away from the Battlecruiser. It waits a second before coming in pursuit.

CAT: They're coming at us!
KRYTEN: It looks like my plan didn't quite work....in the event of our untimely deaths as a result of my actions, I will of course turn myself in and face a tribunal.
KOCHASNKI: Well you didn't expect it to work, did you? It was about as inspired as one of Rimmer's chat up lines!

Rimmer runs in

RIMMER: I thought you guys might need my help.

Silence

KRYTEN: Sir? Are you feeling OK?
RIMMER: No, I'm going insane...that's probably why I'm here to help with whatever daring plan you've come up with.
HOLLY: I think that last shot must have damaged the Holo Projection Unit in the engineering decks, restarted some of his old Ace Rimmer files and given him a 'bravery boost'.
CAT: Eh?
LISTER: Just think of Prozac without the side effects.
RIMMER: So what daring plan have we come up with?
LISTER: Well at his precise moment, Rimmer, we're running away from them as fast as we can!
RIMMER: Sounds good to me, let's keep going!

We see Starbug being hotly persued by the Battlecruiser

4. Int. Battlecruiser. Cockpit.

The Boss is sitting in the main seat, Bob and Dave are in front. Once again the dialogue appears as subtitles

BOB: We're closing in on them...
BOSS: Look at them run, like fleas trying to escape anti-dandruff shampoo...
DAVE: Shall we continue to fire as before, sir?
BOSS: No, I think it's time for the final manoeuvre. So circle them a few times, make some menacing raspy communications, quote a few lines from Sci-Fi movies and then blast them out of the skys.....

5. Int. Starbug. Front Cockpit Section

All crew members still in seats, laser shots are coming ever few seconds

KRYTEN: We can't hold them off!
CAT: Metal-man is right! They're so close my nose is tingling like a tambourine chorus!
KOCHASNKI: We need to find some cover....
RIMMER: There's a conveniently placed small moon just ahead....do you think we can make it?
LISTER: Have I ever let you guys down?
KRYTEN: Well, sir. If I can make you recall....
LISTER: Just hit the thrusters.
RIMMER: What thrusters?
LISTER: They're those big things at the back of the ship with funny lights on them...
RIMMER: I know what they are...but we've already got them on.
LISTER: Are you saying this is the fast we can go?!
KOCHASNKI: Well what were you expecting from a transport ship with so many miles on the clock that we're practically running out of little dials!
LISTER: Holly! Get some speed up!

Holly appears with a huge stripe of blue hair

HOLLY: OK, Dave.
RIMMER: Holly! Get that ridiculous hair off!
HOLLY: Ridiculous? I'll have you know that I've been driving the dispensing machines crazy with this new look.....They're already calling me 'Randy Holly'
CAT: That does not sound like a compliment, Hol.
HOLLY: It is from the dispensing machines, believe me.

Again we see the GELF ship is very close behind

LISTER: Only a few more seconds until we reach that moon!
CAT: Only a few more seconds until we're People Puree!
KOCHASNKI: They've got missiles!
RIMMER: Fan-smegging-tastic. What else could go wrong?
KRYTEN: Well sir, seeing as you asked I thought now might be the time to mention that we have a fuel leak.
RIMMER: What sort of fuel leak?
KRYTEN: Oh, you know, the type where all the fuel goes sloshing out the back of the ship like a drunk man washing his car with a hose.
KOCHASNKI: Isn't that a little dangerous considering we're being shot at?
KRYTEN: No.....it's very dangerous.
LISTER: Oh well, at least I really go out in that blaze of glory I wanted.
RIMMER: Lister, if we do die I demand to be splattered across a different asteroid!
CAT: Approaching the moon!

We see the moon, a rock covered waste. Starbug is approaching, full speed

KRYTEN: Sir, there's nowhere we can land! It's like trying to find parking space outside a cinema!
LISTER: We'll just have to improvise.
CAT: Improvise?....Is this a 'soft cushiony landing' type improvise or a 'big bumpy, possibly fatal' landing type improvise?
LISTER: Big and bumpy.
CAT: Phew! I knew it was a good thing putting on gold this morning! Lucky we're not likely to survive or I would have had to change!
KOCHASNKI: You'll never do it, Dave!
LISTER: Just watch the master, Kriss.
KOCHASNKI: If he comes along I'll be right behind him! (Checking her seat) Hey! Where's the damn seatbelt on this thing!
KRYTEN: (Knocking his head) Ah! That’s what I forgot to do when renovating the ship to allow Miss. Kochanski in the cockpit!
KOCHASNKI: Wasn't that a little irresponsible?
KRYTEN: Well, not really, Mamn. You see, a seatbelt is really only needed in the case of an emergency....

Kryten looks at Kochasnki and then does up his own seatbelt

KRYTEN: Just hold on tight, Mamn.
LISTER: I'll try and take us down over there!
RIMMER: No way, Lister. Landing on an unsuitable area breaks ever single Space Corp directive ever issued.....except the ban on Welsh members working in the Farming Corps.
LISTER: Would you care to try something else?
RIMMER: Maybe we can use some of your enormous underwear to make a handy set of parachutes?
HOLLY: Sorry, dudes, but this moon appears to have gravity.
CAT: Gravity? Is that gravity as in.....
RIMMER: Shut up!
HOLLY: I'll try and warn you all when we're about to hit the moon's gravity field so you can take evasive action.
LISTER: What sort of action?
HOLLY: I dunno, just try wiggling the stick and see what happens.
KRYTEN: Sirs, Mamn, seeing as the chances of our deaths are very high and as I, as a mechanoid, may survive with at least one limb intact. May I take this opportunity to ask you all how you'd like to be buried?
KOCHASNKI: What?!
KRYTEN: It's standard procedure, Mamn. What about you, Mr. Lister?
LISTER: I want a huge coffin made of the packets of chicken vindaloos, and I'd like to be entombed in larger and dill pickles inside!
KRYTEN: If you don't mind sir, I'd rather just cremate you and be done with it.

Suddenly there is a jolt, Starbug begins plunging downwards. We hear general cries of anger, frustration, rage and "Oh damn, my hair is loose" and "Oh look, I've cracked a nail....." before Starbug plunges onto a mountain and slides downwards fifty feet before coming to rest at the foot. There is silence

HOLLY (VO): OK, dudes, We're about to enter the gravitational field so hold on tight and....oh, right you've got it in hand.

6. Ext. Moon. Surface.

LATER

We see Starbug half buried in rubble. As we pan across the scene, we hear a voice-over start up

RIMMER (VO): Attention all craft in this quadrant. This is an SOS distress call from the crew of the spacecraft, Starbug. Previously, this was the crew of the mining ship Red Dwarf, but this ship is no longer in any unable condition...well, not unless there’s a ’Micro Machines’ pilot out there looking for a job.
After being persued by a band of evil killing machines, we have crashed into a moon. The crew are in critical condition and Starbug is heavily damaged. We require immediate assistance. If anyone is in this sector, please respond.... Unless of course you’re the guys who shot us in the first place, in which case we’ll be jolly fine on our own.

7. Int. Starbug. Front Cockpit Section.

We see everyone sitting in their normal positions, Rimmer has just finished broadcasting

KRYTEN: I’ve sent it on long range transmission, but I don’t hold out much hope of a reply.
KOCHANSKI: What are our chances?
KRYTEN: To be honest, about the same as us being rescued by a travelling group of scantily clad teenage female Russian acrobats.
CAT: That’s not very likely, is it?
LISTER: Not unless we get blind drunk and start seeing mirages.
KRYTEN: That’s not likely, sir. Judging from initial damage reports, I don’t think there are enough alcoholic beverages left on board to even get Mr. Rimmer over his two-unit limit.
RIMMER: Don’t be pessimistic, we don’t know what’s been destroyed yet. In fact, we may have come out of this quite well. Remember, some good always comes out of every situation.
LISTER: Rimmer, we’ve crashed into a moon and slid down a rock slope creating at least one huge gash in the hull. There’s nothing in the world which can help the pain in that. I know what I’m talking about, I’ve slept with members of girl bands. First you get the initial crash, then the long slide and finally....
KOCHANSKI: So, ANYWAY, we need to find out exactly how much damage we’ve sustained. We have to stop wasting time and do something useful.
KRYTEN: We’ll need to reboot Holly.
CAT: But I thought we were going to do something useful?

8. Int. Starbug. Galley.

Kryten and Lister are hooking up computers to the microwave. Kochasnki is using a computer to check the wiring, Rimmer is looking on disapprovingly. The Cat just looks confused

RIMMER: I’ve said it twice but I’ll say it again, this isn’t going to work.
KOCHANSKI: Just shut up, Rimmer.
RIMMER: I just wanted you all to know that so you that when you’ve wasted your time and found it doesn’t work I can gloat at you for my foresight. And then gloat at you more for ignoring me.
LISTER: Rimmer, this isn’t about being right or wrong. It’s about trying to do something constructive. And at the moment you’re helping as much as the fat blokes on building sites who sit at the back and jeer at everyone.
RIMMER: Jeering is an artform, Listy. And I think I’ll deserve a diploma when you’ve finished...
KRYTEN: Sir, not only is your pessimism unhelpful it is also unfounded. There is a good chance that this plan could work.
CAT: That reminds me. I may be the only one thinking this right now, but what the heck IS our plan?
KOCHANSKI: We explained it twice already!
CAT: Yeah, but that’s sixteen fewer times than it takes for me to remember stuff.
KRYTEN: Well, despite the ship’s condition we may be able to reboot Holly. His memory and storage files have not been damaged. However, all the output monitors were smashed on impact.
KOCHANSKI: Well, most of them were already broken before the crash. Remember last week when Dave found that “Play it Yourself Rock Music” songbook?
RIMMER: How could we forget? We heard a dreadful noise, heard a load of glass break and spent six hours sealed inside the cockpit thinking the airlock seals had broken and Starbug was imploding.
KRYTEN: Yes, well anyway... Using this microwave hooked up to Holly’s personality and Mr. Rimmer’s old softlight projection, we can re-establish communication with him.
RIMMER: Now I know I’ve said it three times already, but is anyone else now thinking what I’m thinking?
LISTER: Probably not.... and if you were then I’ll have to clobber you for reading those magazines I was hiding my mattress!
RIMMER: Does anyone else think this whole Holly idea is totally deranged, witless and stupid?
CAT: Yeah, it sounds crazy to me!
RIMMER: Good.... So does anyone whose opinion counts think this whole Holly thing is deranged, witless and stupid?
LISTER: That’s it. Let’s just get this thing working so we can wipe the smile off ‘Napoleon of Custard Pants’ over there.

He pushes a switch, but nothing happens)

RIMMER: Ah, now I think this is the part where I start gloating. Excellent. (Sarcastically) Now that’s not supposed to happen, is it?
KOCHANSKI: The connections seem fine, I think it’s the aural circuits which are the problem. I have nowhere to plug them in. I guess nobody ever thought of the need to have a talking microwave.
CAT: I for one would think less of them if they did.
KRYTEN: We need something with aural capabilities... How about the toaster?
LISTER: No! No smegging way!!
KRYTEN: Sir, we’ll only be using the aural circuits with Holly’s intelligence. The own Toaster’s AI will not be involved in the process.
LISTER: Kryten, that is no normal toaster. It’s a survivor, a monster capable of breaking all barriers against it to fulfil its evil aim of annoying the smeg out of me. It’s evil, Kryten. Pure evil.

Cat puts his hand on Lister’s shoulder

CAT: There, there...
KRYTEN: Well, we could try connecting it up to somebody’s vocal chords. Of course there is an 85% chance that person will be so damaged they’ll never speak or sing again.
RIMMER: Sounds like an excellent idea. Get into the medi-bay, Listy.
LISTER: All right, point taken. Let’s try the toaster.

Kryten plugs the toaster to the microwave

KOCHANSKI: OK, here we go!

We see Holly’s head appear in the microwave. All of Holly’s dialogue is with the irritating Talkie Toaster voice

HOLLY: All right, dudes? What’s cooking? (Laughs) Good one, eh?
KRYTEN: Are all your systems functioning, Holly?
HOLLY: I think so. Anyone got a chicken that needs defrosting?
KOCHANSKI: Maybe later. Right now, can you get into the ship’s mainframe and give us a full damage read-out?
HOLLY: OK.

We see Holly’s head spin in the microwave as the data computes. We hear a ‘bing’ when he’s finished

RIMMER: Well?
HOLLY: You’ve got major problems. The rear hull has been decimated, the engines are exposed and damaged. At the moment six fuel tanks are leaking, and that one which was ruptured before we landed has spread over the surrounding area. One spark and we’ll lose the entire back section.
KOCHANSKI: But that’s everything! Engines, retros, supplies, even that little powder room I built on D-Deck!
LISTER: Is there anything we can do, Hol?
HOLLY: Well, seeing as how the cockpit is pretty much useless you could finally strip out the seats for your quarters like you’ve been dreaming about for the last three months.
RIMMER: Holly, we’re about to die, I don’t think interior decorating is high up on anybody’s list of priorities right now.
CAT: Except mine.
HOLLY: Look, dudes, I wish I had better news but I’d just be lying if I said anything else. And you wouldn’t thank me if you tried to start the engines and the ship blew up from underneath you, would you?
KOCHANSKI: No, but at least it’d be quick. This way we’re going to spend the next day or so wandering around this ship knowing we’re going to die!

Silence

KOCHANSKI: Oh, wait a sec, I’m assuming everyone realised that before I said it?

Shaking of heads around the room

KOCHANSKI: I’ll shut up now.
CAT: There must be a way! How about the nano-dudes? Didn’t they come with us after we abandoned Red Dwarf? Maybe they could rebuild the damaged ship!
HOLLY: The nanobot molecular process takes some time, by the time we blow they wouldn’t even have finished making a toilet seat.
KRYTEN: Well, seeing as our situation seems hopeless may I be the first to suggest we all depart to mid-section and have a little cry?
LISTER: Good plan, Krytie. Let’s go sob.

Everyone leaves except Rimmer

HOLLY: What’s up, Arn?
RIMMER: Nothing really. It just seems a little pointless worrying about it. I mean, it’s only death.
HOLLY: Yeah, nothing important.
RIMMER: I’ve done it myself. I know I don’t often talk about it but I died in the most unfair and tragic of circumstances as well. But you know how I hate grumbling about it.

Silence

RIMMER: I was so close to being an officer! I could just taste it, it was in my grasp! And then what happens? A nuclear wind comes down the corridor and messes up my considerable chances of success. Tragic, unfair, call it what you will. I don’t like to grumble about it, obviously. But I have to say, I was screwed by fate.
HOLLY: Now THAT’s an achievement worthy of a mention in the 101 Amazing Feats listings.
RIMMER: And now it’s happening again! Two times! That’s twice! Most people don’t even have one major loss of life on their hands and I run into two... I think this time I’m not even going to bother worrying about it. Usually by now I’d be thinking of some ingenious way to weasel out of this and survive. But I’m just going to sit here and wait for it, take it like a man.
HOLLY: Like a man.

Rimmer sits down, There is silence for a few seconds

RIMMER: Holly...
HOLLY: Yes?
RIMMER: Just suppose... and this is hypothetical... that I wanted to survive this thing. How would I go about it?
HOLLY: I thought you didn’t want to know?
RIMMER: I don’t! Not in a real sense! Just in a hypothetical sense!
HOLLY: Hypothetical, eh?
RIMMER: Is there something wrong with that?
HOLLY: I bet you couldn’t even spell ‘hypothetical’
RIMMER: What? Of course I can! It’s H - I - P - O... and some other stuff....
HOLLY: You don’t even know what it means, do you? I bet there are five year old with a better vocabulary than you.
RIMMER: Is this your charming little way of saying that there’s no hope?
HOLLY: Technically.
RIMMER: Technically? Is that technically in a good sense or technically in a sense where I have to know something about technology?
HOLLY: Well, there’s a little trick you know that could help, Starbug’s front section can be detached because it has its own separate engines? So hypothetically, at least one person could get out of here.
RIMMER: Of course! I’ve used it myself! It’s top of my list of “Ways to be a Total Bastard to Lister”
HOLLY: This is only hypothetical, of course.
RIMMER: Did I say that? I tell you what, Holly. Just keep this one under your hat. After all, it’s only hypothetical. There’s no need to worry the rest of them, you know.

He turns to leave

HOLLY: There is something else you should know, hypothetically at least. Given our predicament, the resulting emissions from releasing the front section would blow the rest of the ship and kill the remaining crew...
RIMMER: Well, obviously.
HOLLY: ...But you don’t care about that much, do you?
RIMMER: Nope.
HOLLY: I didn’t think so.

Rimmer leaves

9. Int. Starbug. Front Cockpit Section.

Kryten is seated at his normal station when Lister walks in with a six pack of larger

LISTER: Hi, Krytie. Where’s everyone else?
KRYTEN: Miss Kochanski went to go get some old photos, so either she’s going to reflect on the past or use them as a sedative. The Cat said something about saying goodbye to his babies, so I’ll assume he’s in his wardrobe.... You’re going to drink that?
LISTER: Well that’s generally what I do with larger, Krytie. I’m going to make a night of it. Thirteen cans of this stuff and it won’t matter if there’s an explosion going up my backside. Heck, I’ll probably have one coming the other way first!
KRYTEN: I’ve always considered human bereavement customs to be a little odd. Some of your species seem to laugh death in the face whilst the others walk around as if there’s a permanent black cloud above them. Why is that?
LISTER: I dunno (Begins drinking) Maybe those other people come from Bolton, plenty of black clouds around there.
KRYTEN: So what about you, sir? Are you a chirpy bunny or a Bolton man?
LISTER: It’s funny but I’ve thought about this quite a bit recently, mainly after Rimmer started that second weekly organ recital night. And to be honest, I don’t think I give a smeg.
KRYTEN: I find that hard to believe, sir, even with my barely rudimentary grasp of human emotions. Doesn’t life itself fill you with a tingling sensation comparable interfacing with a deluxe tea making machine?
LISTER: Let me put it this way, Krytie. Three million years ago, or thereabouts, I was just a pile of smeg. And over the years that pile has grown a bit, got a bit smeggier, had the smeg beaten out of it a few times and just done not much else. And now I’m just going back to being a pile of smeg. I ain’t losing much. In fact this waistline will look better than ever....
KRYTEN: Ah, I think we are in the stage of bereavement commonly referred to as “denial.”
LISTER: I’m not in denial!
KRYTEN: That’s what they all say.
LISTER: Listen, Kryten, you’re a sanitation droid. The things you know about psychology aren’t even worth writing on a sweet wrapper.
KRYTEN: Sir, as a part of my initial programming I was instructed in rudimentary psychiatric principals. I have been implanted with the teachings of all the great philosophers, psychologists and thinkers of the human race. Plato, Socrates, Decartes, Freud and every man who has ever driven a taxi cab.
LISTER: Okay, Mr. Psyche, tell me why I don’t give a smeg about death.
KRYTEN: Sir, I can assure you that you DO give a smeg about death and the only reason you’re not trying to find some way out of this situation is because you have failed to accept the enormity of discovering you are on the verge of being split into more pieces than a jumbo sized Mecanno set. On the surface you seem cool and calculated but underneath you’re a complete gibbering wreck. Your spirit is shaking so violently that you could record it and put it as the backing track of a 20th century dance album. It won’t be long before that feeling escapes and you become a whimpering cry-baby incapable of even the most basic functions.

Silence

LISTER: So how is that so different from every other night I get drunk?
KRYTEN: Well the whole explosion thing makes it slightly unusual.
LISTER: Actually, it’s a big plus seeing as I don’t have to worry waking up with a hangover or being in bed with Rimmer or something at the end of it.
KRYTEN: Trust me, sir. I may have a head like an amusing side drum but I know what I’m talking about.

Rimmer enters

RIMMER: Good morning, gentlemen. Just running a few checks...
LISTER: Well, Rimmer, all systems, engines, displays and vending machines are totalled. The controls are limper than school cabbage and we’re all going to die. Does that tally with your list?
RIMMER: I’m just trying to work out exactly what isn’t working. For example, and I’m just picking one at random here, just suppose I wanted to jettison the front section of Starbug, is that system operational from this side?
KRYTEN: I’d imagine so, sir. That system runs from its own engines, not the ones in the hull. Maybe a few connections would need to be relinked but otherwise it should be in operational condition.
RIMMER: Excellent, that’s the systems check completed.
LISTER: Good, can we die now?
RIMMER: By all means. Carry on!

He leaves

LISTER: He’s up to something. He’s never this cheerful, not even when he thinks I’m going to die.
KRYTEN: I wouldn’t worry about it too much, sir. It can’t be long before the realisation of the situation finally breaks and he goes cowering under the scanner table. Just sit back, relax, and wait for the moment of your death.
LISTER: Maybe...

He swigs again

LISTER: Nah, it’s no good. I can’t relax until I’m absolutely certain he’s going to be blown to smeg along with me. I’m going to check it out.

10. Int. Starbug. Mid Section.

Rimmer is examining some computer displays. Kochanski is sitting at the table going through a photo album. Lister walks in from the cockpit. He eyes Rimmer suspiciously as he goes over to her

LISTER: Hi, Kriss. What’s that?
KOCHANSKI: Oh, just a few old photos of my family, friends, people on Red Dwarf. I was just... going through them.
LISTER: Anything good?
KOCHANSKI: There’s a couple of you in here, somewhere.

She shows him a shot. He looks confused, he turns it upside down but is still confused

LISTER: Which person am I? The lumpy one under the sheets or the guy with a lampshade over his head?
KOCHANSKI: Sheets, that bulge from your beer belly is unmistakable.
LISTER: Who took these? My gran could take better pictures than these, and she had two glass eyes!
KOCHANSKI: My roommate took them during that party we had when the Dwarf was passing around Saturn.
LISTER: Your roommate? Oh yeah, I remember her. Tight skirt, tight blouse, nice ti....

Kochanski glares at him

LISTER: (Firmly) Tie. Very nice tie, she always had it buttoned up well.
KOCHANSKI: Uh huh... well, she was drunk when she had the camera. I would have done them myself but I was busy trying to make love to you in time with that old rock anthems album. Do you remember? We got half way through “Ace of Spades” before we had to stop because I slipped a disk.
LISTER: Oh yeah, I remember. I woke up the day after in your bed with a plastic flamingo and two cracked ribs... Those were great days. Not sure why, though.
KOCHANSKI: Because we were having sex three times a night?
LISTER: That’s a good reason... Those early days were the happiest days of my life. Even better than the day when I invented the shami kebab and vindaloo sandwich. We seemed so perfect for each other, I thought it would never end.... well, until two weeks later when you dumped me.
KOCHANSKI: Dave, we both knew it could never last. We had nothing in common! I was a successful career woman with my life ahead of me and you were a space bum who loved me only for my body and the fact I had extra credits in the bar.
LISTER: Your point being?
KOCHANSKI: We were suited for as long as the chemistry was there. And once that was gone, there was nothing holding us together. Don’t get me wrong, it was great for me too. The way I see it, sex can only hide deeper problems. It can’t make you happy. It can’t make you a spiritually fulfilled person.

Silence

LISTER: You’re right, Kriss. We do have nothing in common.

The camera shifts to Rimmer who we notices is writing things down from computer displays

LISTER: I think he’s up to something.
KOCHANSKI: Dave, you ALWAYS think he’s up to something. You couldn’t stay alone with me in my room unless we ran a check for bugs because you were certain he would be secretly filming us. You’d never go to any bar on the main habitation deck because you were sure he’d purposely come in an request Reggie Wilson at the jukebox. Why should he be plotting some weasely act now?
LISTER: Kriss, we’re probably all going to die. And all it takes is for there to be one glimmer of possible survival and he’ll go into weasel overdrive. I trust him less than an Albanian bank manager.

Lister goes over to Rimmer

LISTER: So, what’s up Rimmer?

Rimmer hurriedly turns around and replies in high pitched squeaky voice

RIMMER: Nothing.
LISTER: Oh, really?
RIMMER: (Normal voice) Oh yes, absolutely nothing. Nothing whatsoever. Nothing at all. Nope, nada, zip.... nowt.

Silence

LISTER: So you’re saying there’s nothing going on?
RIMMER: Listy, it’s 4 PM. Isn’t it time for ‘Slob Hour’ now? I’m sure there’s a crummy Australian soap opera in the video room just waiting for you to get drunk in front of.
LISTER: I’m watching you, Rimmer. I just want you to know that.
RIMMER: Rightio.
LISTER: I mean it, Rimmer. You’ve double crossed us before and I want you to know that if you start running anywhere, I’ll rip your legs off.
RIMMER: Gotcha.
LISTER: Good.
RIMMER: Marvellous.
LISTER: OK?
RIMMER: Fan-daby-dozi.

Lister leaves the room. Rimmer removes a hand form behind his back, his fingers are crossed

RIMMER: Ah ha ha!! Nobody beats Arnie J!

He notices Kochanski looking at him strangely. He turns back to what he’s doing. Kochanski gets up and heads for the galley

11. Int. Starbug. Cat’s Sleeping Quarters.

The Cat is removing items from his wardrobe. there are tears in his eyes. He holds up a purple suit

CAT: Aww, man. I remember you. I was wearing you that day last month when we were getting eaten by that giant sludge beast. We were in its mouth and the monkeys were screaming and shouting but I felt at peace for being co-ordinated with its tonsils. Those were great times, I’m going to miss you.

He puts it down and picks up another suit, a frilly red one

CAT: Aww man, I’ll never forget you (Grimaces) How could I forget you? Geez, what WAS I thinking when I made you?!

(He slings it down and picks up another suit, a lime green one)

CAT: Aww man... I’m sure you’ll look fashionable in heaven. But right now you’re an ugly son of a bitch! I guess I’ve emptied this wardrobe of all the good things it has to offer. The rest of you will just have to spend your last hours together. So long, guys.

He sadly closes the wardrobe. Lister walks in

LISTER: Hi, Cat.
CAT: Don’t talk to me, man. I’ve just said goodbye to my babies. I’m all emotional. (He blows his nose on the green suit) It’s like losing your whole family in one go.
LISTER: God, I must be feeling bad if I came in here for support... Look, Cat, there comes a time when you have to stand back and think about the important things in life. The things which really matter.
CAT: You’re right. I mean, here you are standing around thinking about your own miserable death and meanwhile all these suits are going to get vaporised! You haven’t even given them a second thought, have you?
LISTER: To be honest, I don’t give a smeg.
CAT: (Hugging Suits) Don’t listen to him, babies. He’s going to die, he ain’t thinking straight. All he cares about is himself.
LISTER: You value your own life over your suits?
CAT: My life? Are you crazy?

Cat turns around and catches his reflection in the mirror

CAT: Holy fish! Now that’s a pretty site! Heck, today the universe is going to lose the most beautiful member of it’s existence. (Looks at Lister) And come to think of it, its ugliest as well. that has to be some sort of landmark.

Lister doesn’t respond

CAT: Hey! Monkey face! I’m insulting you and you aren’t trying to rearrange my face! What’s up?
LISTER: Well, I didn’t think about it before but after talking to Krytie and Kriss but I guess I’ve suddenly started to realise how big a deal this whole thing is. I mean, me dying and all.
CAT: Yeah, a row of beautiful suits can do that to a man.
LISTER: But nobody else seems to care! Kryten has so little real emotion he could write greetings cards for a living. Kriss is in some sort of trance and worse, I can’t take advantage of it. And Rimmer is just, well, weird.
CAT: I know. Goalpost Head was here acting weird just now.
LISTER: Doing what?
CAT: Looking at the walls, the floor, and stuff. He was messing about with that control panel by the door.
LISTER: Control panel?...

Lister goes over and examines the panel

LISTER: I’ve seen one like this before... somewhere else on the ship, maybe... But why is Rimmer suddenly so interested in ship schematics? Maybe he knows something.
CAT: Don’t ask me, bud. You know I only have an attention span of six seconds.
LISTER: I’m going to check this out.

Lister leaves

CAT: He is definitely losing it. (To suits) Now aren’t you glad at least ONE person on this ship is sane?

12. Int. Starbug. Mid Section.

Lister walks downstairs and finds Rimmer sitting at the scanner table talking to himself

RIMMER: Ah, Arnie. You’ve outdone yourself this time... now what to take? Obviously just the bare essentials. A few pairs of boots, the golf clubs and of course a couple of those magazines of Lister’s... That reminds me, I’ll need Rachel as well.

Laughs and turns round. He sees Lister and yelps

RIMMER: (Girlie scream) Eeek!

Quickly he hides his list

LISTER: What are you doing, Rimmer?
RIMMER: Just checking...uh... my possessions for my little trip into the unknown.
LISTER: You’re too happy about all this. You haven’t been this chirpy since that time I dislocated my arm and Kryten had to slot it back into place with no anaesthetic or copies of your fishing magazines available for sedative.
RIMMER: You’re going to die, Listy. That’s what I’m happy about. Finally you’ll see the pain I’ve suffered.
LISTER: If you’re talking about your Morris dancing tapes then I’ll remind you that we’ve all suffered hearing it as well.
RIMMER: Laugh, Listy. Laugh like water gurgling down a clogged plughole. Soon you will laugh no more.
LISTER: Rimmer, you’re a total twonk. You’re going to snuff it as well, this explosion will blow your power source.
RIMMER: I’m a survivor, Listy.
LISTER: And so am I. I’ll get through this somehow. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen now?
RIMMER: (Smiling) Well, the explosion could only partially blow the habitation decks so whilst the ship burns you could be running around like a headless chicken with each explosion getting closer to the inevitable.
LISTER: Oh, right.
RIMMER: And that’s only the positive side of things. That’s not accounting for the whole hull breaching/decompression thingy.
LISTER: (Angrily) Just shut up, Rimmer. I don’t care what you say. I’ll get out of this and you’ll be the only one with breathing problems!
RIMMER: Well, if you’ll excuse me I have some things to attend to. Bye bye, Listy. Have fun. (Mutters to himself) Git.

Lister watches him go

LISTER: Git.

Kochanski and Kryten walk in from the cockpit

LISTER: Listen up, guys. Rimmer is really getting on my nerves now and I don’t care how we do it but we’ve got to find out what he’s up to and mess it up for him.
KRYTEN: Ah, I think we’ve entered the stage of bereavement called ‘Anger.’
LISTER: Just shut up.
KOCHASNKI: Calm down, Dave! You’re no help to anyone when you’re all hot and bothered!
KRYTEN: (Mutters in jealous droid voice) Oh, and I’d bet you know all about him being hot and bothered...
KOCHANSKI: What did you say?
KRYTEN: (Normal) Oh, I was just thinking that maybe we could consult with someone on this craft who might know Mr. Rimmer’s plans.
LISTER: Who?
KRYTEN: Well, although we don’t like to admit it much there is at least one computer on this ship with the intelligence to work these things out.
LISTER: Who? The toilet on B-Deck?
KOCHASNKI: I think he means Holly. Let’s go.

13. Int. Starbug. Galley.

Kochanski and Lister watch as Kryten switches Holly on

HOLLY: What’s up, dudes? Do you need some potatoes baked, or are you just here for the conversation.
KRYTEN: We need some information from you, Holly.
HOLLY: Information, eh? You’ll have to bear with me, I always have trouble with this sort of thing.
LISTER: We want to know what Rimmer’s up to. He’s prowling this ship like a cartoon cat who’s just realised where the mousehole is and is off to get a large lump of cheese and a mousetrap.
KRYTEN: Nice analogy, sir.
LISTER: Really? But I didn’t think that androids got allergies?
KOCHANSKI: Let’s just stay to the point. Rimmer’s acting weird and we want to know why.
HOLLY: Do you mean generally or just today?
KRYTEN: Excuse me for saying so, Holly, but I think you’re purposely dodging the point.
HOLLY: I am not! Oh, by the way, I can heat up some croissants if anyone is interested.
LISTER: Cut the innocent routine, Hol.
HOLLY: Look, I did tell Rimmer something that he wanted to hear but I can’t divulge it. It’s a matter of trust. I don’t care what you offer me, I am a computer with an IQ of 6000 and therefore totally incorruptible. I can’t be bribed emotionally in the same way as humans do so you might as well give up...
LISTER: If you do then I’ll hook you up to the All-Female Mud Wrestling AR simulation. And if you don’t then I’ll hook you up to the All-American Greased Pig AR simulation.

Silence

HOLLY: Well, when you put it like that I suddenly can’t refuse. I told Rimmer that there may be a way to survive the explosion.
KOCHANSKI: How?
HOLLY: The front section of Starbug can be detached. Theoretically, someone could escape. In fact, all of you could probably fit. However, the chances are better if it’s only one person. Especially one who doesn’t need all that food and oxygen stuff that you living things do.
LISTER: Are you telling us that you knew a way to escape all along and didn’t tell us?!
HOLLY: Well, I didn’t want you to think you were taking advantage of my incredible brains.
KOCHANSKI: Believe us, Holly, we’d never think of ourselves as taking advantage of your brains.
KRYTEN: How long do we have before the ship blows, Holly?
HOLLY: Less than an hour.
LISTER: An hour! That’s not long!
HOLLY: No, less than an hour.
KRYTEN: Well, how long?
HOLLY: About five minutes.
ALL: WHAT?!
HOLLY: Well, it’s nearer four but don’t quote me on that, Rimmer just started initiating the detachment process. In four minutes the front section will blast off and ignite the rest of the ship.
LISTER: Smegging hell!!!

All exit

HOLLY: So, what about my mud wrestling?

14. Int. Starbug. Front Cockpit Section.

Rimmer is sitting in his usual place running the controls when Kryten, Kochasnki and Lister run in

LISTER: You scum sucking, lying, conniving, measly piece of worthless monotonous smeg for brains twat!
RIMMER: Morning, Listy.
LISTER: You’re trying to escape!
RIMMER: I told you I would. Why does it surprise you? You know me, Listy. Anything to save my own life.
KRYTEN: But you’re already dead, sir.
RIMMER: Look, do you have to bring that up all the time?
KOCHANSKI: But we could all be saved! Why didn’t you tell us?!
RIMMER: Holly thinks that with more of us, there is less chance of survival.
LISTER: Well that’s funny, because if you don’t let us come then your chances of survival will decrease dramatically.
KRYTEN: Besides which, how do you plan to power your hardlight remote belt when Starbug’s main power source is destroyed?
RIMMER: Well, uh....

Silence

RIMMER: I forgot about that.
LISTER: You’re a complete gimp, Rimmer.
KOCHANSKI: So what do we do now?
RIMMER: (Worriedly) Errm... Well seeing as I’ve started the detachment process I guess we should all start panicking a bit.

Silence

KRYTEN: I think I speak for everyone here when I say: Oh smeg.
LISTER: Kryten, get the Cat and some power packs! Kriss, run to the galley and get Holly. Rimmer and I will start the ship! Hurry!!

Kochanski and Kryten leave

RIMMER: You’re going to help me?
LISTER: You’re not the only one who wants to save your neck, Rimmer. I’m the last man alive and on this ship is the last woman. It’s been generations since I made first contact and we’ve still got to go further than any couple have been before, to the undiscovered county. Believe me, Rimmer, I ain’t popping my clogs until I’ve seen the final frontier!
RIMMER: You want to save your life for purely selfish reasons? (Silence) You’re as bad as me! I can’t believe it! Weaselling is the only thing I’m good at and you’re better at it than me!
LISTER: Stop your winging and get check the systems. We’ve got under a minute!

Kryten and the Cat run in. The Cat is carrying piles of suits. He drops a few in a panic. Suddenly Kochanski runs in holding the microwave and slips on one of the suits, she drops it

CAT: Hey!! You crazy woman!! Look what you’ve done!!
KOCHANSKI: Whoops.
CAT: It’s totally irreparable!!
LISTER: What!? You mean she’s totalled Holly?!
CAT: Holly? (He holds up the suit she tripped over) Look at that! The sleeve has come away AND you’ve trodden mud into it!! What the hell are you talking about Holly for?
LISTER: (Sigh) Is Holly OK?

Holly appears in the microwave

HOLLY: Don’t worry about me. I’m fine... So, does anyone want any toast?
RIMMER: Closing the hatch!
KRYTEN: The engines will fire in ten seconds!
LISTER: Wait!
KOCHANSKI: What’s wrong?
LISTER: My cap! I can’t find my cap!
KRYTEN: Oh God, sir. If you want to fix it you can do your own damn dental adhesive this time.
LISTER: No! My head cap!
CAT: Maybe it finally woke up and decided to try and find some of its own species?

Lister sees it back inside the mid-section

LISTER: There it is!

He runs to get it

KOCHANSKI: Dave, the hatch is closing!

Lister reaches through the rapidly closing hatch and grabs the cap as the gap closes. (think Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom) Calmly he puts it on his head. The crew watch open mouthed as he walks back to his seat.

RIMMER: What the hell did you do that for?!
LISTER: Look, I know what I’m doing. In the movies the guy with the hat always survives, finds the treasure and gets the girl to snog him at the end.
KOCHANSKI: The guys in the movies obviously don’t have your bad stubble, then.
KRYTEN: Sir, unless you want to become a permanent fixture on that back wall, I suggest you sit down before the engines fire!

Lister runs to his seat. We hear the engines start up. We watch Starbug’s front section detach and fly away, seconds later the back section ignites and explodes, propelling the front section out into space

15. Int. Starbug. Front Cockpit Section.

Starbug is spinning out of control, the crew are seated in normal positions with various looks of panic on their faces

KOCHANSKI: We’ve lost control! I think the blast has blown off our stabilisers!
CAT: Our whatalisers?!?!
LISTER: Basically we’re spinning round and round through space with no sense of speed or direction!!
CAT: So everything’s back to normal? Great!
RIMMER: I think we can get some control back if we just let off a little excess exhaust material...

He pushes a switch and a massive explosion occurs, spinning the ship faster and faster

RIMMER: Oh wait, that was the fuel dump.
LISTER: Rimmer, you groin head!!
KRYTEN: Please sir, insults may be fun but they’re not constructive!
RIMMER: And what the hell would you know, fish tank head?
KOCHANSKI: Dave! Deactivate the engines! I reckon that’ll give us some control!
KRYTEN: If we stop the engines then there’s no way of knowing whether we’ll be able to start them again.
CAT: Well if you don’t stop this thing from spinning then I’m going to feel real queasy! And I’m tellin’ you now, if I start then there’s no way of knowing whether you’ll be able stop me vomiting all over the cockpit!
RIMMER: Powering down!

The lights go out and are replaced by a small green bulb

RIMMER: Why the hell have we got a green bulb in the emergency lighting socket?!
KRYTEN: Well sir, we ran out of red and clear but we always have plenty of spare green ones.
CAT: Why’s that?
LISTER: They’re the only ones Kriss doesn’t nick for her DIY sunbed.
KOCHANSKI: Well, it’s practical! Could you imagine what would happen if you got tanned in green light?

Lister pulls the control stick, gradually Starbug stops spinning

LISTER: OK, we have at least as much control as usual.
KRYTEN: In that case I’ll leave the red alert sign on.
KOCHANSKI: How’s the ship looking?
CAT: Well, seeing as we’re only in the front section it kinda looks like a giant garden pea with a windshield and little stumpy bits...
KOCHANSKI: I meant in general.
RIMMER: As a result of both the initial crash and ejection, we’ve lost all food, medical equipment, supplies, technology, engines, retros, brakes, sleeping quarters, medi-bay, fuel and we have around two hours of oxygen remaining.

Silence

KRYTEN: (Cheerfully) But on a lighter note, I’m sure you’ll all be please to hear the kareoke machine still works!
LISTER: Good, I can slam my head into it if I get bored hanging around here.
RIMMER: (Gloomily) I can’t believe it. I risked everything to sneak away and now it turns out I’m still finished, except this time in a smaller room with three people being asphyxiated around me.
KRYTEN: Yes sir, and you’ll have to sit hear and watch them die slowly and painfully.
RIMMER: Will I? (His face brightens) Well why didn’t you say so! I was beginning to think this was a complete waste of a trip. Spin your seat round, Listy, I want to see this in widescreen...
KOCHANSKI: We’ve got this far, I can’t believe it’s over yet. Is Holly still operational?
KRYTEN: Let’s find out.

He adjusts the microwave, Holly’s image appears

CAT: Hol man! Good to see you, bud! How’s it hanging?
HOLLY: Not bad. I think I’m losing my sense of perspective, though. Rimmer’s face is all out of proportion and the nose is huge. (Waits) Oh no, my mistake. I was thrown for a minute, that’s how his face does look.
LISTER: We’re in a bit of a fix, Hol. We need any advise you have.
HOLLY: Let me channel my runtime.

Cue some whirring and buzzing

HOLLY: I’ve done it.
KOCHANSKI: And?

The kareoke machine starts up, The BeeGees “Stayin’ Alive” starts playing

RIMMER: AGH! NOISE WARFARE!!!

He ducks down

HOLLY: Well, dudes? What do you think?
LISTER: I think your taste in music has been really screwed up.
KOCHANSKI: How is this supposed to help us?
HOLLY: It’s encouragement. Morale boosting. I read about it in one of my files. Although on the surface it sounds like a load of constipated hamsters clearing their throats, on a subconscious level it is inspiring you to find a way out of this dire situation.

The Cat suddenly picks up a nearby piece of debris and hurls it at the kareoke machine. Everyone stares at him

CAT: Y’know, I think he has a point.
KRYTEN: But how does that help our dire situation?
CAT: It stopped the lousy music. That was the most dire situation we were in, believe me.
KOCHANSKI: Rimmer, you can stop cowering now.

Rimmer slowly gets up

RIMMER: I’m all right now, really I am... (checks monitor) No I’m not.
LISTER: What’s up, now?
RIMMER: Well either somebody has spilt cake crumbs over the scanner again, or I’m picking up a large battlecruiser homing in on us.
HOLLY: It’s the GELFs, it seems as if they were sitting behind that moon waiting to see if we’d survive so they could finish us off... That’s quite clever, when you think about it.
LISTER: I don’t want to think about it. Thinking was that got us into this mess!
KRYTEN: Less than a minute until intercept. Suggestions?
RIMMER: How about we maintain radio silence and pretend we’re a mirage?

Silence

RIMMER: Actually, that was a bit crap now I think about it.
KOCHANSKI: How about we try and make peace?

Sounds of groaning and “Oh, how girlie...”

KOCHANSKI: So you’d rather be killed than make conversation?
CAT: That’s the wimp’s way out Officer Bud Babe. Real men don’t talk.
RIMMER: So would you all think less of me if I seconded Miss Kochanski’s motion?
KOCHANSKI: Thank you for the vote of confidence, Rimmer.
LISTER: Oh yeah, that’s the sort of backing every campaign needs, the man whose claim to fame is having nostrils which are a bigger size than his shoes.
KRYTEN: Any other ideas?
HOLLY: Hold on folks, I’ve got an idea.
CAT: Oh, crap.
HOLLY: I’ve had time to study their technology and there is a weakness.
KRYTEN: He’s right. The ship appears to be entirely organic, in fact, it appears to be made entirely from hair.
KOCHANSKI: Hair?
KRYTEN: Yes, billions of thin strands molecularly bonded into a superstrong polymer. It’s immune to almost everything.
CAT: Almost?
KRYTEN: Well, with the right weapons we could disintegrate the material holding the hair together.
KOCHANSKI: What material?
KRYTEN: Grease.
LISTER: Wait a sec! Are you telling us that the entire ship is held together by hair grease? That’s disgusting!
RIMMER: This from a man who never bought a bottle of shampoo in his life because the chemist was next to the off-licence....
HOLLY: As I was saying, I think there is a weakness. From my encyclopaedia of toupees I have found a weapon which can disintegrate even the best developed hair formation.... disco music.
LISTER: Music? Now we’re talking my language!
RIMMER: No, we’re not talking your language unless we start walking around on all fours, scratching our backsides and grunting.
KRYTEN: I think I see where Holly is going with this idea. Prepare to open com channels!

16. Int. Battlecruiser. Cockpit.

Once again we see the inside of the spaceship. Bob, Dave and the Boss are seated in their normal positions. All dialogue is translated in subtitles

BOSS: Well done, Bob! This is the best idea you’ve had since that time you used hair gel for fuel. There’s an extra perm waiting for you tonight! Now the humans are trapped.
DAVE: We’ve got them in range, sir.
BOSS: Excellent. Fire when ready.
BOB: Sir! they’re communicating with us! They say they’ve reviewed the International Law on Space Battle and their collection of 20th century Sci-Fi movies and that they’re entitled to a last request!
BOSS: Are they? Damn! Curse Flash Gordon and all of his kin! All right, put them on the screen.

We see the inside of Starbug. The crew are smiling to the camera in a fake way. Lister has his guitar

LISTER: Uh, hi monster killing machines. This is Dave Lister of the JMC ship Starbug, and this is the rest of the crew.

They wave

LISTER: We have a last request, we’d like to play you a little musical number dedicated to your good selves.
BOB: What’s music?
BOSS: From what we know about these lifeforms, probably a primitive form of mating. However much my good taste dictates otherwise, I suppose we must grant the request.
LISTER: Hit it, gang!

Kryten begins playing the computer keyboard in front of him like a piano, Kochanski and Rimmer hit the scanner screens like drums and the Cat pulls out a tambourine. They begin playing a backing track

DAVE: Sir, our sensors are becoming erratic. I think this ritual is messing with their calibration.
BOB: What are they doing?...

Now Lister joins in on his guitar

DAVE: Sir! We’re losing power!
BOSS: This is no ritual! It’s some form of weapon! Power up the missiles!
BOB: They’re not responding! This sound is interfering with the delicate balance of nutrients which hold this ship together!
BOSS: We’ll have to retreat before things get any worse!

Suddenly, Lister starts singing

LISTER: (To the tune of Peter Andre’s “Mysterious Girl” completely out of tone and pitch) Ohhhhh, hairy dudes, we want to get close to you! We want to caress your hair and pick your fleas, we want to swallow your hairballs like a.... uh.....
CAT: Tasty garden pea!

An explosion rips through the Battlecrusier

DAVE: I think things just got worse.
BOSS: Quickly! Retreat!!
BOB: Forget it, sir. We’re deader than hairclips.

With a final roar, the Battlecruiser explodes. Starbug is sent spinning backwards the way it came

17. Int. Starbug. Front Cockpit Section.

Fires have started up everywhere

LISTER: Geez... I didn’t expect that to happen!
CAT: You obviously don’t listen to yourself in the shower.
KRYTEN: Sirs, mamn, hold on tight! We’re going to crash!!
KOCHANSKI: Crash? Where?!

18. Ext. Moon. Surface.

We watch as Starbug comes crashing down the same hillside as before, tumbling into the wreckage of its back section. Finally, it rolls to a halt in exactly the same spot it was in the first time.

HOLLY (VO): I think there’s a moral to this story.
RIMMER (VO): Shut up.

19. Int. Starbug. Front Cockpit Section.

The crew are still seated

KRYTEN: Well, the good news is that we sustained less damage this time.
KOCHANSKI: That’s because there’s nothing left to damage. Between the first crash, re-ignition and Lister’s singing we’ve lost everything worth breaking!
CAT: So what happens now?
LISTER: I guess we sit here for the next couple of hours and wait for our air to run out.
RIMMER: I second that. Now where’s the popcorn?...
HOLLY: Or we could look in the wreckage from Starbug for something to help us.
RIMMER: Like what?
HOLLY: Well, those nanobots for a start. Now we have more time they might be of some use to us.
KOCHANSKI: Oh great, another afternoon wandering around trying to catch micro-organisms... I’ll get the jam jar.

Kryten, Cat and Kochanski leave

LISTER: Well, you survived Rimmer.
RIMMER: And so did you.

Silence

BOTH: Git.