RED DWARF Series III Episode
4, "Body Swap"
1 Int.
Somewhere in Red Dwarf.
Shot of
Scutter with wires in its "mouth" behaving erratically.
2 Int.
Lab.
KRYTEN
and RIMMER are hunched over a computer terminal displaying a
horrendously
complex circuit diagram. RIMMER is
giving instructions to
KRYTEN.
RIMMER:
Turn. There's another. Circuit board epsilon 14598, red
corridor 357.
KRYTEN:
Re-routed.
RIMMER:
Turn. And another. Circuit board theta 29555, rlue corridor
212.
LISTER
enters shuffling a deck of cards.
LISTER:
What's happening guys? It's half
ten. I thought we were playing
poker?
RIMMER:
Where have you been? Didn't you get the
message?
LISTER:
What message?
RIMMER:
One of the skutters has gone bananas.
He's completely rewired
the maintenance decks back to front and
upside down. We've got over
two thousand wiring faults. Don't breath. Don't touch anything.
(Looking at LISTER) The whole ship is a
gigantic booby trap.
LISTER:
No poker then? (Looks very
crestfallen.)
RIMMER
looks at LISTER as if to say, "You don't understand the gravity of
this
situation."
RIMMER:
We can't find the auto destruct system.
It's wired up to
something but we don't know what. Tell the CAT.
LISTER:
(Walking away) It's taken me ages to mark these cards.
3 Int.
Corridor.
LISTER
is leading CAT along a red-lit corridor.
CAT: So
we can't touch anything?
LISTER:
Nothing electrical. Not until we get
the all clear.
CAT:
How longs that going to take?
LISTER:
God knows.
LISTER
approaches the vending machine, lowers to so he can depress an
order.
LISTER:
Milk shake and a crispy bar. (Turning
back to CAT) We were just
playing poker tonight. That's gone for a burn.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: Auto destruct sequence initiated.
Initiated destruction
in 15 minutes. 14 minutes, 55 seconds and counting.
CAT and
LISTER look at each other stunned as warning noises sound.
CAT:
(Keeping his cool) That's a very dumb thing you just did then.
LISTER:
I Know. I wasn't thinking.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: Red Dwarf will self destruct in 14 minutes and 50 seconds.
CAT
puts on his scared face and leaves.
LISTER turns back to the vending
machine.
LISTER:
Cancel. Clear.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: Abandon ship. You have 13
minutes and 45 seconds to
detonation.
LISTER:
(Hitting buttons with his fist) Cancel!
AUTO
DESTRUCT: You have 12 minutes and 45 seconds to--
LISTER:
(Kicking machine) Cancel!
AUTO
DESTRUCT: You have 10 minutes and 45 seconds--
LISTER:
(Shaking the machine violently) Cancel!
AUTO
DESTRUCT: You have 9 minutes and 45 seconds--
4 Int.
Control Room.
First a
shot of CAT and then RIMMER strides into the shot, looking _very_
cross.
RIMMER:
I said, "Touch nothing." Didn't I say, "Touch nothing?"
LISTER:
Look, I just ordered a shake and a crispy bar.
(Very pleading
quality here as one would when one has just
initiated the end of an
entire space ship.)
CAT:
You're lucky you didn't order a double cheese burger!
AUTO
DESTRUCT: Eight minutes, 20 seconds and counting.
LISTER:
How do we switch it off?
HOLLY:
The only person who can override the autodestruct is the captain.
RIMMER:
Dead.
HOLLY:
Or one of the senior officers.
RIMMER:
Dead.
HOLLY:
In many ways I should have updated the system really.
LISTER:
Is there any that we can trick the machine into thinking one of
us is the captain?
HOLLY:
No. It checks his voice and brain scan
against its databanks.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: Auto destruct in 8 minutes, 10 seconds and counting.
RIMMER:
Think of something please. You are
supposed to have an IQ of
6000.
Think of something.
HOLLY:
I'm thinking.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: Self destruct in 8 minutes and counting.
RIMMER:
Well??
HOLLY:
I bin' through the whole of my database, collated every single
option, and there are three realistic
alternatives. One: sit 'ere and
get blown up. Two: Stand 'ere and get
blown up. Three: Jump up and
down, shout at me for not being able to
think of anything, then get
blown up.
LISTER:
There must be something?
KRYTEN:
Perhaps we could try a mind swap?
5 Int.
Lab.
Shot an
arm strapped to a chair, pan out to LISTER tied down to a chair
looking
anything but happy to be there.
KRYTEN:
It's something we tried once on the Nova 5.
It uses exactly the
same science as generating a hologram. We wipe all your brain patterns
and put them on a storage disk. Then we transfer the captains mind
from his hologram personality disk into your
empty brain.
LISTER:
And you tried this on the Nova 5?
KRYTEN:
Oh Yes.
LISTER:
Did it work?
KRYTEN:
No. But I'm pretty sure I know what
went wrong.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: 4 minutes to self destruct and counting.
LISTER:
So the captain's mind will be in my body?
KRYTEN:
Yes. Then, hopefully, the self destruct
will think you're are
the captain, and you can activate the
override.
LISTER:
But where will my mind be?
KRYTEN:
(Holding up a very small cassette tape) On this.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: 3 minutes, 50 seconds and counting.
RIMMER
and CAT enter the room.
RIMMER:
We couldn't find the captains disk, but what about Brown? Brown
was executive officer.
HOLLY:
Yeah. Brown's got clearance.
LISTER:
(upon seeing a large needle that KRYTEN just removed the air
from) Kryten, what's that for?
KRYTEN:
It's a mental emetic.
LISTER:
A what?
KRYTEN:
A mind enema -- so we can flush out your brain.
LISTER:
Nobody's flush'n out my brain.
KRYTEN:
We'll transfer it back afterwards.
LISTER:
You are not sticking that think in my head.
The CAT
is drinking a cup of coffee in the background.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: one minute and 40 seconds and counting.
RIMMER:
We've got to. It's our only chance.
LISTER:
Smeg Off!
CAT:
Look man, I'm not asking you to do this just for me. I'm askin',
well pleading with you I'm beggin' ya -- do
it for the sake of my
suits.
Are you just gonna stand by and let my scarlet PVC morning suit
with the imitation king penguin fur collars
get blown to smithereens.
(LISTER nods.) Could you live with
yourself? (LISTER nods again.)
AUTO
DESTRUCT: I minute, 30 seconds and counting.
RIMMER:
Look, Lister. I agree, it's a stupid
idea. It almost certainly
wont work.
But the very worst that can happen -- the absolute bottom
line -- is that you'll have to spend the
rest of your life as a
mindless gibbering vegetable. But if the rest of your life is going to
be thirty seconds, what the hell!
LISTER:
Do it.
KRYTEN
swaps his right temple with a cotton ball and then inserts the
needle. As it sucks out LISTER's mind his face takes
on a more vacant
expression
until he is completely cross eyed and his tongue sits rather
stupidly
almost out of his mouth. KRYTEN presses
some keys on a
keyboard,
storing LISTER's mind onto a storage medium.
KRYTEN:
Keep that safe -- it's Lister's mind.
He
hands the small cassette to CAT. As
they are all looking at it CAT
drops
it into a mug of coffee. RIMMER recoils
very quickly. CAT,
looking
most apologetic, but not quite managing to hide an evil smirk,
removes
the cassette from his coffee and slinks off.
KRYTEN begins to
place
BROWN's mind into LISTER. Once complete
"LISTER" looks very
surprised.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: 55 seconds to detonation
BROWN:
What's happening? What the hell is
going on?
RIMMER:
(standing to attention) Ah, sir. There
is no time to explain,
but, by a bizarre series of accidents the
ship auto destruct system has
got switched on and we need you to
deactivate it.
BROWN:
Something's wrong. Something feels
different. Wait a minute, I
never use to be a man!
RIMMER:
Look, you stupid women, we'll explain later.
BROWN:
Why have I got male sexual organs!
RIMMER:
If we don't override the autodestruct system within the next 20
seconds those male sexual organs will be in
orbit around the nearest
planet.
Along with every one else's organs sexual or otherwise.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: 15 seconds to detonation.
BROWN:
Abort sequence X1X.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: Identify.
BROWN:
Carol Brown, executive officer, security clearance 010101.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: Pause for verification.
(Pause) Verification rejected.
Abort denied. Auto destruct sequence continued. Detonation in 5
seconds.
Shot of
KRYTEN looking pretty upset. RIMMER
and CAT are speaking to
KRYTEN.
RIMMER:
Sen-smegging-sational
AUTO
DESTRUCT: 4.
CAT:
Well done, sphinx face.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: 3.
RIMMER:
What a brilliant, brilliant plan.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: 2.
CAT:
Just great.
BROWN
is struggling in the seat.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: 1. Initiate self destruct.
A
dramatic pause as they brace for death.
Shot of
dispensing machine as it shoots out a milk shake and a crispy
bar.
AUTO
DESTRUCT: Thank you for using the auto serve dispensing machines.
Number one in quality. Number one in taste.
CAT:
What happened?
KRYTEN:
It must have been wired up to the warning system but not the
bomb.
RIMMER:
So where's the bomb?
HOLLY:
We haven't got a bomb.
RIMMER:
What!
HOLLY:
I got rid of it ages ago.
CAT:
Why didn't you say?
HOLLY:
You never asked.
CAT:
Fine, terrific. (To KRYTEN) But
remember this: you're getting my
underwear bill, buddy.
6 Ext.
Red Dwarf. Establishing.
7 Int.
Sleeping quarters.
RIMMER
and LISTER are lying on their beds.
RIMMER:
You awake?
LISTER:
Yeah -- can't sleep.
RIMMER:
Probably those kippers you had for supper.
LISTER:
Nothin' wrong with kippers for supper.
RIMMER:
But kippers vindaloo? Can't be good for
you. I mean, a curry
every night? That cannot be good for you.
Certainly no good for me.
I'm thinking of getting a canary in a cage.
LISTER:
Why?
RIMMER:
To check out the room, see if it is safe to use.
LISTER:
C'mon, it's not that bad!
RIMMER:
Not that bad? You don't sweat sweat,
you sweat madras sauce.
LISTER:
Why all the sudden interest in my diet?
RIMMER:
It's not just your diet, Lister. It's
your health in general.
Face facts:
you eat crap, you don't exercise, you smoke, you drink,
and frankly, it's beginning to show.
LISTER:
I'm OK.
RIMMER:
You're getting porky.
LISTER:
Porky!
RIMMER:
Last week when there was that lights failure in the engine room,
your silhouette was caste onto the
wall. I got the fright of my life.
I thought it was Alfred Hitchcock.
LISTER:
Are you sayin' I've got a gut?
RIMMER:
You have got more gut that a Turkish butchers shop window.
LISTER:
(sounding worried) Hang on, no really.
Do you think I've put on
weight?
RIMMER:
You've reached that age, Listy. When
you're younger you can eat
what you like, drink what you like and still
climb into your 26 inch
waist trousers and zip them closed. Then you reach that age -- 24, 25
-- your muscles give up they wave a little
white flag and then without
any warning at all, you're suddenly a fat
bastard.
LISTER:
I'm not fat -- I'm porky!
RIMMER:
Have you ever in dissection class held up a frog by its head?
(Demonstrating to Lister with hand
movements.) You know the way its
belly sort of sticks out above its spindly
little legs? Well, that's
the picture I see when you get down from the
bunk in the morning.
(Lies back down.)
LISTER:
Yeah, maybe you're right. (Examining
his belly from his reclined
position) Yeah, I'm gonna start working out
in the gym.
Thinking
the conversation is over, he returns to his comic.
RIMMER:
Of course, you could always ... no you'd never a agree to it.
LISTER:
(Leaning down to RIMMER's bunk) What?
RIMMER:
We could do a swap: my mind in your
body, yours in mine.
(LISTER lies back down shaking his head and
smiling thinking what a
ludicrous idea this is.) You saw how easy it
was with Brown. Lend me
your body for a few weeks and I'll get it
fit for you. Plenty of
exercise, sensible diet, no more booze, no
more ciggies. It'll be like
a 12 thousand mile service for your body.
LISTER:
What, and in the meantime I'm a hologram?
RIMMER:
It won't be too bad if it's only for a couple of weeks.
LISTER:
You're talking as if it were a pare of hedge trimmers or a lawn
mower or somethin'.
RIMMER:
I'd give it you back, I'd return it intact.
More than intact,
it'd be fitter.
LISTER:
Look, Rimmer, you are not having possession of _my_ body.
RIMMER:
What are you worried about? How can a
treat it any worse than
you do?
You admit you don't look after it, don't exercise it, don't
feed it properly. I would. What do you say?
8 Ext.
Red Dwarf.
We hear
sounds of mind-swapping type activity.
9 Int.
Lab corridor.
LISTER
and RIMMER emerging from the Lab.
LISTER:
(Lister's voice, but sounding very odd as it emerges from
RIMMER's larynx) No welchin'.
RIMMER:
Of course not.
LISTER:
A fortnight.
RIMMER:
14 days.
LISTER:
(Holding up two of RIMMER's fingers) Two weeks.
RIMMER:
Absolutely doodley. (He opens LISTER's
jacket and indicates with
hand gestures that it doesn't smell very
nice.)
10 Int.
Shower room.
RIMMER,
in LISTER's body, is standing at what turns out to be a urinal,
and is
putting some very thick red plastic gloves on, he removes the hat
with
distain, and dons a pare of eye covers.
He is humming The Grand Old
Duke of
York to himself. Removing a pare of
tongs from his back pocket
he then
unzips his fly and using the tongs proceeds in alleviating
himself. Suddenly he stops, removes his eye covers
and looks down. He
looks
up with a face that looks very shocked at what it has just seen.
11 Int.
Corridor.
LISTER
in RIMMER's body passes a mirror and catches a glimse of himself.
LISTER:
This hat is smeggin' stupid. I look
like Captain Emerald.
Holly, do somethin' about it, mate.
HOLLY:
OK, Dave.
Now
RIMMER's body is decked in the black leather gear we normally
associate
with LISTER.
LISTER:
Brutal!
12 Int.
Shower room.
Cut
back to a silhouette of RIMMER showering LISTER's body.
RIMMER:
What's this under his nails? Oh my god!
He
places a bottle of AJAX scouring detergent on a recess in the wall and
grabs a
bottle of what appears to be Domestos.
RIMMER:
I'm going to have this dirt carbon-dated.
13 Int.
Sleeping quarters.
KRYTEN
is pouring some red wine into a glass that is sitting in what
appears
to be a very large and sumptuous feast.
Dressed in a bath robe,
RIMMER
enters the room "hmmmming" to himself.
KRYTEN:
Luncheon, sir.
Grabbing
LISTER's locks RIMMER removes most of them with an electric
carving
knife.
RIMMER:
Ahhh! Food. Real food. To eat,
perchance to taste.
KRYTEN:
It's exactly as you ordered, sir: the
lightly poached mimmion
bladder fish, the 4 dozen oysters, the ducks
feet in abalone sauce...
RIMMER:
I can touch; I can taste; I can smell!
(Getting very excited and
grabbing some food.)
KRYTEN:
Roast suckling pig stuffed with chestnuts and truffles.
RIMMER:
mmmmmmm.
KRYTEN:
(Placing a _very_ large silver platter of mashed potato in front
of RIMMER) Mashed potato.
RIMMER:
With cream and butter?
KRYTEN:
A pint of cream and a full pound of butter, sir.
RIMMER:
Let the orgy commence.
He
starts stuffing food and drink into ha mouth and then slumps his head
forward
into the potato. He then pours gravy
over his head. LISTER
enters
and looks stunned with this turn of events.
LISTER:
Hows the diet goin'?
RIMMER
does a thumbs up sign with his head still buried in the potato.
14 Int.
Sleeping quarters. Night.
RIMMER
is still in a bath robe and is smoking a cigar.
RIMMER:
Do you know something I think I went temporarily insane. It was
just too much. I haven't tasted food in 3 million and 2 years. All
that food.
I was like an animal.
LISTER:
I want my body back. Now!
LISTER
is lying in his right side supporting his head with his bent arm
and in
contrast to RIMMER, does not look relaxed.
RIMMER:
Oh Look it won't happen again. It was
just something I had to
get out of my system.
LISTER:
_My_ system. Why ya smokin'?
RIMMER:
One cigar!
LISTER:
You are supposed to be getting me fit.
RIMMER:
I'll start tomorrow.
LISTER:
You better bleedin' had do.
15 Int.
Corridor. Day.
We see
LISTER dressed in RIMMER's green suit and hat carrying a brief
case. CAT walks past him and then does a double
take.
CAT:
Hey! what are you doin' dressed like
that? Why do you want to look
like Goalpost Head? Have you flipped? You want to model yourself on a
man who has ears so large that they can pick
up satellite TV? Why do
you want to look like the smeg-head Rimmer
for?!
RIMMER:
Because... (poking CAT in the eye) ...I am that smeg head Rimmer.
With a
smug look on his face RIMMER departs.
16 Int.
Large spa bath.
RIMMER
sits reading a MUSCLE magazine.
RIMMER:
Please. These are meant to be
women? (Turning over magazine and
we get to see the picture that has just
engrossed RIMMER) Ahhh. This
is what I call training.
17 Int.
Sleeping quarters.
CAT has
his back to us and his hair is untied.
They are playing
scrabble.
LISTER:
(Pointing to letters in his rack) That letter, that letter, and
that letter. (Pointing to the middle of the board) There.
We see
that he is having the first go and we see his rack which has the
letters
D-A-T-E left on it.
CAT:
Hey! I've got you now! (Holding out his letters up for LISTER to
see.) Jozxyqk.
LISTER:
That's not a word.
CAT:
It's a cat word.
LISTER
attempts to pronounces the cat "word."
CAT:
That's not how you pronounce it!
LISTER:
What's it mean?
CAT:
It's the sound you get when you get your sexual organs trapped in
something
CAT
demonstrates with his hands a book shutting and pronounces the word
again.
LISTER:
Is it in the dictionary?
CAT:
Well, it could be. If you were reading
in the nude and you closed
the book too quickly.
CAT
mines this action and says the word again.
RIMMER:
(Striding into the room looking like he has been working out and
feels great) Ahhhh! What a session! What a work out! No pain,
no
gain, Listy.
LISTER:
(Jumping up) On the scales! I want to
weigh you.
RIMMER:
There's no need. Look at that
stomach. (Rubbing LISTER's
stomach.) Flat as a pancake. Hasn't been like that in years!
LISTER:
Scales, please.
RIMMER:
There's really no need.
LISTER:
(Firmly) On the scales.
RIMMER
steps on the scales
LISTER:
You've put on two stone!
RIMMER:
Of course I've put on two stone. I've
been taking yeast extract,
building up your body.
LISTER:
Take the robe off.
RIMMER:
What for?
LISTER:
Take it off.
RIMMER:
I don't want you looking at my naked body.
LISTER:
It's not _your_ naked body, it's mine!
CAT:
What's he hidin'?
LISTER:
Off with the robe.
RIMMER:
Let me just say this--
LISTER:
Off!
RIMMER:
(Removes the bathrobe to reveal a pretty pink girdle) Ohhhh this.
This is a hernia prevention belt. I must have forgotten to take it
off.
LISTER:
It's a girdle.
RIMMER:
Course it isn't.
LISTER:
Then why has it got little dangly things for holding up
stockings?
RIMMER:
There for attaching extra weights to you so you can get fit just
as you walk around. (He fumbles, demonstrating the attachment of
weights and walking with them attached.)
Oh! Errrr ow!
LISTER:
I want me body back now.
RIMMER:
Look, OK. I went a bit bananas the
first few days, but I promise
you that's all over now. Don't you see? It's in my interest to get
you into shape. This could become a regular thing: fourteen days a
year I could have your body. In fact next year, if it's convenient, I
would like to book the last two weeks of
July.
LISTER:
I want it back.
RIMMER:
One last chance?
LISTER:
No more troffin'.
RIMMER:
I promise.
LISTER:
And take that girdle off. It doesn't
suit me. (He saunters off
happily.)
18 Int.
Sleeping quarters. Night.
We hear
pigging-out noises.
LISTER:
Holly, lights.
LISTER
jumps off bed and finds RIMMER sitting up in bed with a blanket
over
his head.
LISTER:
Right, that's it! I'm completely sick
of it.
RIMMER:
MM-mph? Mph mmph mph?
LISTER:
That is it!
RIMMER:
(Removing the blanket and wiping his hands) What is it? (He has
food all over his chin and mouth.)
LISTER:
You've been porkin' again, haven't ya?
RIMMER:
I have not!
LISTER:
I want my body back, now.
RIMMER:
But I've only had it a week!
LISTER:
This was not the deal. You've welched
on it. (He walks away and
glances into the rubbish bin.) And what's
this in the bin? Me locks!
My locks are in the bin. I thought you said you pinned 'em up?
RIMMER:
I did but they ... fell off.
LISTER:
Fell off? Science lab, now!
RIMMER:
But it's the middle of the night.
Kryten is on down time.
LISTER:
Now!
19 Int.
Sleeping Quarters. Later.
The
guys enter their room as themselves again.
LISTER:
(Rubbing his chest) How many cigars did you get through, Rimmer?
Me lungs feel as if they have been through a
cheese grater.
RIMMER:
You've got your body back. Leave me
alone.
LISTER:
(Coughing) I only have a couple of rolly's a day. It feels as if
you've smoked an entire Cuban tobacco
harvest.
RIMMER:
I had the odd one.
LISTER:
You've no respect, that's what. You've
shown my body no respect
whatsoever.
You've treated it like smeg.
Look you've given me
breasts.
There's a distinct cleavage there.
I give you my body and
you've given me a bosom.
LISTER
he walks over to the scales and RIMMER looks to be the unhappy one
now.
LISTER:
These scales are wrong. These scales
have to be wrong.
RIMMER:
It's average for your height.
LISTER:
Rimmer, it would be average for my height if I happened to be a
pregnant hippo.
RIMMER:
Well you weren't exactly Charles Atlas to start with, were you?
LISTER:
And you haven't been treating my athletes foot, have you?
RIMMER:
Well, quite frankly I was afraid of touching it.
LISTER:
I told you, you have to wash and powder my feet three times a
day.
Plus a good buffing with a pumice stone.
RIMMER:
I wasn't prepared to touch those _things_ three time a day. To
tell you the truth I was only brave enough
to take your socks off once.
LISTER:
Look at my stomach. Look at it! Pink gudgeon' stripes down me
sides and you could float me over the super
bowl.
RIMMER:
Look I refuse to take the rap for that body.
All right I added a
few pounds to its already ample frame but it
was, lets face it, a wreck
before I got any where near it.
LISTER:
A wreck?
RIMMER:
If it was a car you would be an insurance write off. Nothing
works.
Your taste buds are totally clapped out you've killed them
stone dead with 25 years of non stop
curries. and what about all the
aches and pains you never mention twinges in
your back crimps in your
neck mention? Oh, and I'll give you a little tip: urine should only
be green if you're mister spock.
LISTER:
That's the last time you borrow it that's for goddam sure.
(Getting up and leaving the table.)
RIMMER:
What about next year? We had and
agreement -- the last two weeks
in July and the weekend before Christmas.
LISTER:
What for, Rimmer? It's a wreck.
RIMMER:
Unfortunately it's the best that's available.
You can't get two
weeks in the carribean then grimsby is
better than nothing. You can't
back out now, you said I could have it.
LISTER:
I only said that to get it back. Do you
think I am raving mad?
You are never, ever, _ever_ borrowing my
body again. Never.
RIMMER:
Get some sleep. You'll feel different
in the morning.
20 Int.
Corridor.
KRYTEN
is pushing a trolley with an unconsious LISTER on it.
KRYTEN:
I am really not sure about this.
RIMMER:
Look, you're programmed to obey -- get on with it.
KRYTEN:
But surely we should ask him first?
RIMMER:
I told you, he's agreed. He's perfectly
happy about the
situation.
KRYTEN:
Well then, why did you make me chloroform him and why did he
struggle so?
RIMMER:
Look, I'm in charge Kryten. I'll take
full responsibility.
KRYTEN:
Oh! But sir--
RIMMER:
Science lab, pronto!
KRYTEN:
Oh!
RIMMER:
If he comes around give him another whack.
21 Int.
Sleeping quarters. Morning.
It
looks like RIMMER is waking up in bed, but we soon see that he is
again
dressed in LISTER's clothes.
LISTER:
Are you awake man? Rimmer? (Jumps off bed and notices his
arms.) No please. No! (Noticing the message
that has been left) Play
message.
It is
RIMMER, dressed in LISTER's body once again.
RIMMER:
Hi! It's me. I told you you'd feel different in the morning.
Thing is, this week has been absolute heaven
for me and I couldn't just
stand by and let you take your body
back. That's why I've taken
Starbug and done a runner. Don't worry, in a month or so I'll come
back and return it. Just a month, maybe six weeks but don't try
and
follow me, otherwise... (Placing a gun
against his right temple) the
body gets it.
LISTER:
Cat. Cat! (He runs out of the room.)
22 Int.
Some other part of the ship.
CAT:
You want my _what_?
LISTER:
It'll only take a couple of hours.
CAT:
You want to take _my_ body?
LISTER:
I need your body to get _my_ body back.
CAT:
You've already lost one body. Come on,
in all seriousness, you
really expect me to lend you mine?
LISTER:
I'm a hologram. How else am I suppose
to chase him? I need your
body.
CAT:
Let me ask you one question. Would you
let a garbage truck driver
use your Rolls Royce?
LISTER:
How else can I pilot White Midget?
CAT:
I'll do it!
23 Ext.
Model Shot.
We see
White Midget leave Red dwarf.
24 Ext.
Model Shot.
Cut to
Starbug as it "wheels" through space to the sound of the ???
symphony.
25 Int.
Starbug cockpit.
RIMMER
is trumpeting along with hand movements, the gun is in the right
hand. He opens a trunk load filled donuts. As the music ends he places
one in
his mouth. LISTER appears on the
monitor behind him.
LISTER:
Rimmer. Rimmer! It's no use runnin', man, we've got you in
visual range. Turn around and head back to the ship.
RIMMER:
I told you not to follow me. (Pointing
the gun at LISTER's
image.
He goes over to his console and allows them to see him.) Leave
me alone or you-know-what happens. (Placing gun at his right temple
again.)
CAT:
He's bluffin'.
RIMMER:
I'm not bluffing.
LISTER:
I think he means it man. He's flipped
-- it must be cream cake
poisonin'.
CAT:
He's bluffin. I'm goin' in after him.
KRYTEN:
He must be bluffing.
LISTER:
Say he isn't, man?
CAT:
It's gastronomic terrorism! We can't
stand by and let it happen.
RIMMER:
Go ahead punks. Make my day.
LISTER:
You're right. He's bluffin'.
RIMMER:
Smeg!
CAT:
Lets get him. (Puts his feet to the
floor and the ship really start
to move.)
RIMMER
goes back to the controls. He drives
badly and hits some rocks.
LISTER:
This is getting stupid. Back off -- let
him go.
CAT:
We're almost on him.
LISTER:
It's too dangerous. Let him go.
The
white midget backs off and RIMMER turns around to gloat, oblivious to
the nasty-looking
outcrop of rocks looming up ahead.
RIMMER:
Ha! Ha! Ha! Chickens. Ha ... (He turns back to look where he
is going.)
26 Ext.
Model shot.
We see
Starbug hit the rocky outcrop and the slam into the ground on the
other
side. We return to White Midget and
view LISTER's totally shocked
face.
LISTER:
Oh smeg! What the smeggin' smeg's he
smeggin' done? He's
smeggin' killed me!
27 Int.
Starbug rear section.
Hanging
live wires are everywhere in the crashed interior. LISTER, CAT
and
KRYTEN enter. The sliding door between
the cockpit and galley area
opens.
RIMMER:
(Peering around the corner) Whoops!
LISTER:
Are you all right?
RIMMER:
You're going to go spare.
LISTER:
What? What is it?
RIMMER:
You're going to go absolutely spare.
RIMMER's
steps out into the doorway his top is torn bellow the shoulder.
LISTER:
You've lost me arm.
RIMMER:
I've lost your watch too.
LISTER:
You Bastard!
RIMMER:
No, you're right. It's my fault. My hands are up ... well, my
hand
is up. (He starts to laugh.)
LISTER:
You think this is funny? (Looking as
upset as any body who has
just lost an arm would.)
RIMMER:
No. But _this_ is.
RIMMER
brings the missing arm from behind his back and sticking two
fingers
up on both hands, makes gestures to LISTER.
He starts laughing
and
slips over. As LISTER looks down at him
CAT and KRYTEN look at each
other
and start laughing.
28 Int.
White Midget.
Brief
view of the return flight.
29 Int.
Sleeping quarters.
LISTER is
sitting on his bunk with a white blood splattered bandage
around
his head. He has just attached his
locks to some elastic and he
places
these around his head over the bandage.
LISTER:
Oh, Hello. It's captain chloroform.
KRYTEN:
Oh please, mister David sir. My guilt
chips is already in
overdrive.
I, I feel terrible! (He paws at
Lister's leg.)
LISTER:
_You_ feel terrible? How about my
smeggin' head?
KRYTEN:
I _had_ to obey him. It's in my
programming to obey all humans.
No matter how insane.
He
removes the white cover from trolley he was pushing to show a small
portion
of food on a plate.
KRYTEN:
Dinner is served, sir.
LISTER:
Lettuce and a grated carrot. I'm on
this for six months.
RIMMER's
body enters the room looking very stiff.
LISTER:
What's wrong with you? You look like
you've seen a ghost.
CAT: I
was asleep, OK? Next thing I know
plastic Percy here puts a
sponge on my face and out go the lights.
CAT/RIMMER
moves stiffly to the table and sits down rather grumpily.
KRYTEN:
It was an order.
RIMMER/CAT
enters the room carrying a plate of what appears to be mashed
potatoes
with other food stuffs stuck in it and sits at the table.
RIMMER:
Just one night, I promise. I'll give it
back first thing
tomorrow.
Maybe Thursday.
He
slumps his head forward into the potato and starts to thrash it about
like a
pig again.
The End
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
David K
Fraser | I don't have e-mail.
Student | Don't e-mail me, and I won't
e-mail you.
Glasgow
University |