Buy Red Dwarf: Series 1-8 [DVD] [1998]


  • Rimmer: “Step up to Red Alert!”
    Kryten: “Sir, are you absolutely sure? It does mean changing the bulb.”
  • This isn’t a meal. This is an autopsy!
  • Just let me check: thermos, sandwiches, corn plasters, telephone money, dandruff brush, animal footprint chart, and one triple thick condom… you never know!
  • Attention all lady cats! I am feeling very, very sexy! Can you hear me, lady cats?! My body is available!
  • Time is a great healer. Unless it’s a rash, then you’re better off with ointment.
  • I have a mind to fill your boots with runny porridge again. That’ll teach you a lesson about maturity.
  • The way the light catches all the angles in your head, it’s enchanting.
  • Lister: Who’s bra?Cat: A hundred and eighty-one? Probably your own!Lister: Come on, no. Taking a bra off with me teeth, aged one-hundred and eighty-one. That’s a hell of a sexy way to go!Kryten: So long as the teeth are in your mouth at the time, sir.
  • Rimmer: Oh ha, ha!Lister: Rimmer, people who say ‘ha, ha’ have no sense of humour, they can’t think of a witty retort.Rimmer: (pause) Oh ha, ha!
  • Kryten: I’m sorry about that sir. I neglected to engage the depth function. Lister: We’ll walk, Kryten. We’ll walk.
  • Lister: [singing] To Ganymede and Titan, yes sir, I’ve been around…
    Rimmer: Lister?
    Lister: Hmm?
    Rimmer: Have you ever been hit on the head with a welding mallet? No? Well, shut up, then.
  • Rimmer: [discussing his last exam] Last time I only failed by the narrowest of narrow margins.
    Lister: You what? You walked in there, wrote “I AM A fish” four hundred times, did a funny little dance and fainted!
    Rimmer: That’s a total lie.
    Lister: No, it’s not. Peterson told me.
    Rimmer: “No, it’s not. Peterson told me.” Lister, if you must know, I submitted a discourse on porous circuitry that was too… radical, too unconventional, too mould-breaking for the examiners to accept.
    Lister: Yeah. You said you were a fish!
  • Todhunter: There are 169 people on this ship. You, Rimmer, are over one man. Why can’t you two get on?
    Lister: You see, I try, sir. I’m not an insubordinate man by nature. I try and respect Rimmer and everything but it’s not easy, ‘cos he’s such a smeghead!
    Rimmer: Did you hear that, sir? Lister, do you have any conception of the penalty for describing a superior technician as a smeghead?
    Todhunter: [chuckling] Oh, Rimmer… You are a smeghead!
  • Captain Hollister: Just one more thing before we start the disco, Holly tells me he’s sensed a non-human life form on-board.
    Lister: Sir, it’s Rimmer!
  • Holly: They’re all dead. Everybody’s dead, Dave.
    Lister: Peterson isn’t, is he?
    Holly: Everybody’s dead, Dave!
    Lister: Not Chen!
    Holly: Gordon Bennett! Yes, Chen. Everyone. Everybody’s dead, Dave!
    Lister: Rimmer?
    Holly: He’s dead, Dave. Everybody is dead. Everybody is dead, Dave.
    Lister: Wait. Are you trying to tell me everybody’s dead?
    Holly: Should’ve never let him out in the first place….
  • Holly: I am Holly, the ship’s computer, with an IQ of 6000; the same IQ as 6000 PE teachers.
  • Holly: Look, I’m trying to navigate at faster than the speed of light, which means that before you see something, you’ve already passed through it. Even with an IQ of 6000, it’s still brown-trousers time.
  • Rimmer: [jogging] Morning, Lister! How’s life in hippie heaven, you pregnant baboon-bellied space beatnik? What’s the plan for the day, then? Slobbing in the morning, followed by slobbing in the afternoon, then a bit of a snooze before the main evening’s slob? God, you’re a disgrace to the species. [jogs away]
    Lister: Good morning, Rimmer.
  • Lister: You said yourself. I can’t stop it. Let’s get this over with. [grabs a pipe]
    Rimmer: Lister, what’s that for?
    Lister: I’m going out as I came in, screaming and kicking.
    Rimmer: You can’t just whack Death on the head!
    Lister: If he comes near me, I’m gonna rip his nipples off!
  • Holly: Jean-Paul Sartre said Hell was being locked forever in a room with your friends.
    Lister: Holly, all his mates were French!
  • Rimmer: What’s this? Learning drugs? They’re illegal, matey! I’m afraid you’re in very serious, grave, deep trouble, Lister. Where did you get them? I want names, I want places, I want dates.
    Lister: Arnold Rimmer, his locker, this morning.
  • Holly: David Lister, Technician, 3rd class. Captain’s remarks: “Has requested sick leave due to diarrhea on no less than 500 occasions. Left his previous job as a supermarket trolley attendant after ten years because he didn’t want to get tied down to a career. Promotion prospects: zero.”
  • Holly: Arnold Rimmer, Technician, 2nd Class. Captain’s remarks: “There’s a saying amongst the officers: If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well. If it’s not worth doing, give it to Rimmer. He aches for responsibility, yet constantly fails the Astro-navigation exam. Astoundingly zealous, possibly mad; probably has more teeth than brain cells. Promotion prospects: comical.”
  • Lister: [examining markings on the space pod] Hold on… Give me an R… Give me an E… Give me a D…. Give me a Red Dwarf…Garbage Pod! Holly, did Rimmer ever work in waste disposal?
    Holly: No, Dave.
    Lister: It’s one of our old Red Dwarf garbage pods with the writing burnt off in places. Why didn’t you tell him, Hol?
    Holly: Well, it’s a laugh, innit?
  • Lister: I mean, what kind of holy writ is this, Rimmer? ‘It is a sin to be cool.’
    Lister: “Quagars”?
    Rimmer: Quagaars, it’s a name I made up! Double-A, actually! I believe the Quagaars’ll have the technology to give me a new body!
    Lister: Never mind this tot, where’s the Cat?
    Rimmer: “Tot”?
    Lister: Tot.
    Rimmer: “Tot”?!
    Lister: Tot!
    Rimmer: “TOT”?!
    Lister: TOT!
  • Rimmer: (Credits roll but then stop) It’s a garbage pod. (Credits roll again, then stop again) IT’S A SMEGGING GARBAGE POD!!!
  • Cat: Hey, this has been a really good day. I’ve eaten five times, I’ve slept six times, and I’ve made a lot of things mine. Tomorrow, I’m gonna see if I can’t have sex with something.
  • Cat: [sings] S-E-X, you know I want it! S-E-X, I’m gonna get it! Yeah! [Cat finds Lister unconscious on the floor.] S-E-X, I think I found it!
  • Confidence: Ding-dong! Another great idea from the people who brought you beer milkshakes!
  • Lister: Hang on, hang on. Are you saying you never became an officer because you shared your quarters with someone who hummed?
    Rimmer: Obviously not just that, Lister. Everything! Everything you ever did was designed to hold me back and annoy me.
    Lister: Like what?
    Rimmer: Like using my mother’s photograph as an ashtray.
    Lister: I didn’t know! I thought it was a souvenir from Titan Zoo.
  • Lister: Yo, I didn’t know you had any medals. What are they for?
    Rimmer: Three years long service. Six years long service. Nine years long service… Twelve years long service.
  • Rimmer: Swapping my toothpaste for a tube of contraceptive jelly.
    Lister: C’mon, that was a joke!
    Rimmer: Yes Lister, the same kind of joke as putting my name on the waiting list for experimental pile surgery.
  • Cat: [through a megaphone while on roller skates] Hello, hello, testing, testing, one one one, me me me! Attention all lady cats! I am feeling very very sexy! Can you hear me, lady cats? My body is available!
  • Cat: [through his megaphone] SHUT UP!
    Lister: Will you stop doing that?
    Cat: I’m trying to watch the film!
    Lister: I’m only eatin’!
    Cat: No, eating’s when food goes in your mouth!
  • Lister: [revelling in having the room to himself] Ecstasy! We’re talking mega ecstasy bliss! I can hum as loud as I like, as long as I like! I’m a free man… And you see those socks? See ’em? They’re going right where they belong, all over the floor where any self-respecting bachelor would keep ’em! I’m gonna have the bottom bunk, the big bunk! I’m gonna leave the top off the shampoo. I’m gonna squeeze the toothpaste right from the middle! In fact I’m gonna do all the things that drove him bonkers! I’m gonna crack me knuckles, I’m gonna grind me teeth, I’m gonna live for a change! Hee-hee! (sniffs)….Aw, smeggin’ hell… (puts socks back in their basket)
  • Holly: We’re getting a signal. It’s probably nothing but I just thought I’d mention it.
    Rimmer: Aliens.
    Lister: Oh God, aliens… Your explanation for anything slightly peculiar is aliens, isn’t it? You lose your keys – it’s aliens. A picture falls off the wall – it’s aliens. That time we used up a whole bog roll in a day, you thought that was aliens as well!
    Rimmer: Well, we didn’t use it all, Lister. Who did?
    Lister: Rimmer, aliens used our bog roll?
    Rimmer: Just ‘cos they’re aliens, doesn’t mean they don’t have to visit the little boys’ room. Although they probably do something weird and alien-esque, like it comes out of the top of their heads or something.
    Lister: Well, I wouldn’t like to be stuck behind one in a cinema!
  • Holly: We’re a bit short on a few supplies.
    Lister: Like what?
    Holly: Cow’s milk. Ran out of that yonks ago. Fresh and dehydrated.
    Lister: What kind of milk are we using now?
    Holly: Emergency back-up supply. We’re on the dog’s milk.
    Lister: Dog’s milk?!
    Holly: Nothing wrong with dog’s milk. Full of goodness, full of vitamins, full of marrowbone jelly. Lasts longer than any other type of milk, dog’s milk.
    Lister: Why?
    Holly: No bugger’ll drink it. Plus, of course, the advantage of dog’s milk is that when it goes off, it tastes exactly the same as when it’s fresh.
    Lister: Why didn’t you tell me, Holly?
    Holly: What, and spoil your tea?
  • [Lister finds Kryten ironing in the sleeping quarters, now decorated like something from Pride & Prejudice]
    Lister: What the smeggin’ hell is going on?
    Kryten: Good afternoon, Mister David, sir.
    Lister: [Holds up a pair of boxer shorts] What are these?
    Kryten: Your boxer shorts, Mister David, sir.
    Lister: No way are these my boxer shorts, these bend! What have you done to the place?
    Kryten: I’ve done a spot of tidying up.
    Lister: But where is everything? Where’s me coffee cup with the mould in it?
    Kryten: I threw it away, sir.
    Lister: But I was breeding that mould! His name was Albert! I was trying to get him two foot high!
    Kryten: Why, sir?
    Lister: Because it drives Rimmer nuts! And driving Rimmer nuts is what keeps me going.
  • Cat: You’d never get a cat to be a servant. You ever see a cat return a stick? “Hey, man! You threw the stick, you go get it yourself! I’m busy! If you wanted the stick so bad, why’d you throw it away in the first place?”
  • Lister: ‘Mr Arnold’ isn’t his name. His name’s Rimmer, or ‘smeghead’, or ‘dinosaur-breath’, or ‘molecule-mind’, or on rare occasions when you wanna be really mega-polite to him, and we’re talking mega polite here, on those exceptional circumstances you can call him ‘arsehole.’
  • Lister: Rimmer, real dumplings, proper dumplings when they are properly cooked to perfection, proper dumplings should not bounce!
    Rimmer: True, but after the way I thought they were going to turn out they were quite (does a little kiss) superb! (French accent)
    Lister: So how’s the Cat?
    Rimmer: Oh, he’s just sleeping off the stomach pump…He’ll be alright, the lamb was a bit of a flop though.
    Lister: The Lamb!? Everyone thought the lamb was the cheese! And that Lemon Meringue Pie, man, what was in that?
    Rimmer: I thought you liked that! You bought some back.
    Lister: Yeah….I wanted to try some out on my Athlete’s Foot!
  • Cat: I’m so hungry. I just have to eat!
    Lister: Shh… Rimmer’s dad’s died.
    Cat: I’d prefer chicken.
  • Rimmer: [while Lister is sorting through the mail] You’ll send away for every bit of tat, just so you’ll have some mail to open.
    Lister: Me… Me… Me…
    Rimmer: “Please rush me my portable walrus polishing kit! Four super brushes for cleaning even the trickiest of sea-bound mammals! Yes, I am over 18, although my IQ isn’t.”
    Lister: Smeg! Outland Revenue!
    Rimmer: [sarcastically] Oh, oh, oh, oh! Outland Revenue!
    Lister: 8500!
    Rimmer: 8500? That’s a lot of tax, isn’t it, Listy? How on Titan are you going to pay for that?
    Lister: I’m not. It’s yours.
    Rimmer: What? This is wrong! This is dead wrong!
    Lister: Relax, it doesn’t matter now. Not gonna catch you now, are they?
    Rimmer: What? Just because we’re three million years into deep space and the human species is extinct? That means nothing to these people. They’ll find us.
  • Lister: What time is it?
    Rimmer: [blearily crawls over to the clock on the bedside table] ….Saturday.
    Lister: That the best you can do?
    Rimmer: There are some numbers beside it, but they could be anything.
  • Rimmer: I want a triple fried egg sandwich…
    Lister: With chili sauce and chutney!
    Holly: You what?
    Lister: It’s a state-of-the-art sarnie!
    Holly: It’s the state of the floor I’m worried about.
  • Rimmer: It’s like a cross between food and bowel surgery.
    Lister: It’s well naughty. The trick is to eat it before the bread dissolves.
    Rimmer: It’s amazing Where did you get the recipe?
    Lister: I’m not sure…. I think it was a book on bacteriological warfare.
  • [the crew are puzzled by the apparantly missing days on board the ship, the fact the Lister’s jigsaw has been completed and both he and the cat have a broken foot/leg. Rimmer suspects aliens]
    Lister: So, aliens came on board
    Rimmer: without question!
    Lister: They broke my leg
    Rimmer: For some reason
    Cat: They broke my leg
    Rimmer: Yes
    Holly: And then they did a jigsaw…well that’s cleared that up…
  • Lister: OK professor what does it mean?
    Rimmer: Right, breaking your leg ‘hurts like hell’. HEL OK? They do it beLOw the knee, ‘HEL-LO’ get it? They do it twice, twice ‘TOO’. HELLO TO. And jigsaw must mean YOU. HELLO TO YOU!
    Cat:……..I’d hate to be around when one of these suckers is making a speech!
  • [the crew search for the Black Box to try and piece together what happened]
    Lister: This is hopeless, it’s like trying to find a fart in a Jacuzzi.
  • Stasis Leak
  • Rimmer: I loved that little lemming. I built him a little wall he could hurl himself off of.
  • Rimmer: Now kindly cluck off before I extract your giblets and shove a large seasoned onion between the lips you never kiss with.
  • Cat: Wow! I’ve never been this close to women before. It makes me want to do something. But I don’t know what it is. Whatever it is, I want to do a lot of it.
  • Cat [to Rimmer]: What is it?
    Rimmer: It’s a rent in the space-time continuum.
    Cat [to Lister]: What is it?
    Lister: The stasis room freezes time, you know, makes time stand still. So whenever you have a leak, it must preserve whatever it’s leaked into, and it’s leaked into this room.
    Cat [to Rimmer]: What is it?
    Rimmer: It’s singularity, a point in the universe where the normal laws of space and time don’t apply.
    Cat [to Lister]: What is it?
    Lister: It’s a hole back into the past.
    Cat: Oh, a magic door! Well, why didn’t you say?
  • Rimmer: On the morning of Febuary the 26th, at 0800 hrs, did engage in conversation with second technician Rimmer, Arnold J…
    Captain Hollister: For crying out loud, Rimmer!
    Rimmer: – the outcome of which was a proposal by the aforementioned Lister to the aforementioned Rimmer to cook him breakfast.
    Captain Hollister: Okay, I’m getting the picture.
    Rimmer: Breakfast comprised of two eggs, three rashers of bacon, a grilled tomato, two sausages, a small portion of fried potatoes… and a large quantity of mushrooms. Having consumed this repast, second technician Rimmer, Arnold J. experienced what can only be described as a “voyage to trip-out city”. To wit, a major hallucinogenic fit.
    Captain Hollister: Lister, is this true?
    Lister: No, sir. I’m sure it was only one egg.
    Rimmer: The aforementioned Rimmer, to wit, me, then attended inspection parade. He was totally naked except for a pair of mock-leather driving gloves and some blue swimming goggles. Under the influence of this psychadelic breakfast he went on to attack two senior officers, believing them to be giraffes who were armed and dangerous
  • Rimmer: Look… In three million years, you’ll be dead.
    Past Rimmer: [mock surprise]: Oh, will I really?
    Rimmer: Yes, unless you do something about it now.
    Past Rimmer: Oh, and what do you suggest I do, then? Eat less white bread? More roughage?
  • Lister: Why do women always leave me for total smegheads? Why do they dump me for men who wear turtle neck sweaters and smoke a pipe? I mean natural yoghurt eaters. “Reliable”, “sensible”, “dependable”, and lots of others words that end in “-ible”. They’re obsessed with house prices and spends half his life at antique fairs looking for bargains and drinking wine. It’s never beer is it, it’s always wine. ‘What do you want on your cornflakes darling’, ‘oh I’ll ‘ave some wine please’.
  • Holly: I was in love once. A Sinclair ZX81. People said, no, Holly, she’s not for you. She’s cheap, she’s stupid and she wouldn’t load, well, not for me anyway.
    Lister: What are you trying to say, Hol?
    Holly: What I’m saying, Dave is, it’s better to have loved and lost than to listen to an album by Olivia Newton-John.
    Cat: Why’s that?
    Holly: Anything’s better than to listen to an album by Olivia Newton-John.
  • [After an incident in the hologram control room, Rimmer appears to have no legs]
    Holly: Probably not serious, don’t panic
    Rimmer Well if it’s not serious when your genitals can wander off on their own, i’d like to know what is!
  • Holly [after being insulted about his temporarily reduced IQ]: 6? Do me a lemon! That’s a poor IQ for a glass of water!
  • Holly, That’s a load of Tottenham, that is. Yeah, a steaming pile of Hotspur.
  • Rimmer, He’s out to lunch, breakfast, dinner, tea, supper, the lot. He’s not in for a single meal, if you ask me.
  • [Holly has challenged Queeg to a game of chess for control of Red Dwarf]
    Holly: Queen to rook eight, checkmate.
    Queeg: That’s an illegal move
    Holly: Oh, yea. Queens don’t move like that. I was thinking of Poker
  • Queeg Bishop to knight five, double check and mate sucker!
    Holly Oh yea, didn’t see that.
  • Holly We are talking jape of the decade. We are talking April, May, June, July & August fool.
  • Holly, And the moral of the story; appreciate what you’ve got, because basically, I’m fantastic!
  • [from the song “Tongue-Tied,” sung by Cat, Rimmer and Lister]
    When I saw you for the first time (first time)
    My knees began to quiver (quiver)
    And I got a funny feeling (feeling)
    In my kidneys and my liver (digestive system baby)
    My hands they started shakin’ (shakin’)
    My heart began a-thumpin’ (boom, boom, boom)
    My breakfast left my body (huey, huey, huey)
    Now darling tell me somethin.’
  • Rimmer: [trying to demonstrate his flirtation technique] Would you like a worm-do?
    Lister: What’s that then?
    Rimmer: Lister, that’s not how it works. I ask if you want to join me for a cocktail, you say yes, I ask if you want a worm-do, you say ‘what’s a worm-do?’ and then I say-
    Lister: ‘Oh, it wriggles along the ground like this.’
  • Holly: I just don’t know where we are. There’s no two ways about it: I flamingoed up!
    Rimmer: What do you mean?
    Holly: It’s like a cock-up, only much much bigger.
  • Holly: Hang on I’m linking up with their on-board computer.
    Hilly: Hello, I’m Hilly.
    Holly: Hello, I’m Holly.
    Hilly: Hello Holly.
    Holly: Hello Hilly.
    Hilly: Wow this is a turn up innit. You’d better boogie on over and we can sort it out.
    Holly: Right on sis.
    Hilly: See you Hol.
    Holly: See you Hil.
    [The Crew Stares at him]
    Holly: I’m in there!
  • Rimmer: What colour is it supposed to turn?
    Lister: Blue for not pregnant, which is the colour it’s gonna turn.
    Rimmer: And red for pregnant?
    Lister: Yeah.
    Rimmer: [chants]Come on, you re-eds!
  • Rimmer: It’s changing colour!
    Lister: What colour?
    Rimmer: It is! It’s changing colour!
    Lister: What colour!?
    Rimmer: I’s blue for not pregnant, right?
    Lister: Yes!
    Rimmer: Good news Listy, excellent news!
    Lister: Oh, thank god!
    Rimmer: I’m going to be an uncle!
  • Lister: Cat.
    Cat: Mm?
    Lister: Did you ever see the Flintstones?
    Cat: Of course.
    Lister: Do you think Wilma’s sexy?
    Cat: Wilma Flintstone?
    Lister: Maybe we’ve been alone in deep space for too long but every time I see that show, her body drives me crazy. Is it just me?
    Cat: I think in all probability, Wilma Flintstone is the most desirable woman who ever lived.
    Lister: That’s good, I thought I was goin’ strange.
    Cat: She’s incredible!
    Lister: What do you think of Betty?
    Cat: Betty Rubble? Well, I would go with Betty…but I’d be thinkin’ of Wilma.
    Lister: This is stupid. Why are we talking about going to bed with Wilma Flintstone?
    Cat: You’re right. We’re nuts. This is an insane conversation.
    Lister: She’ll never leave Fred and we know it.
  • Cat: We ain’t gonna find ’em. They’re gone, buddy. But look on the bright side — they’re gone, buddy!
  • Cat: Is that what I think it is?
    Lister: What do you think it is?
    Cat: An orange whirly thing in space!
    Lister: It’s a time hole. That’s where they are. We’re going in.
    Cat: Are you crazy We can’t go in there!
    Lister: Why not?
    Cat: Orange, with this suit?
  • Rimmer: [in response to a woman speaking to him backwards] Flob-a-dob blib blob bleeb!
  • Lister: [on not everything being right in the backwards universe] What about St. Francis of Assisi? In this universe, he’s the petty-minded little sadist who goes around maiming small animals! Or Santa Claus? What a bastard!
    Rimmer: Eh?
    Lister: He’s the big fat git who sneaks down chimneys and steals all the kids’ favourite toys!
  • [the hidden message in the club owner’s rant]
  • Club owner: You are a stupid square-headed bald git, aren’t you, eh?! I’m not pointing at you, I’m pointing at you. But I’m not actually addressing you, I’m addressing the one prat in the country who’s bothered to get hold of this recording, turn it round and work out the rubbish that I’m saying! What a poor, sad life he’s got! Frankly, your act’s crap anyway, anybody could have done it! I hate the lot of you, bollocks to you!
  • Holly: Abandon ship! Abandon ship! Black hole approaching! This is not a drill. This is a drill! [pneumatic drill sound] Abandon shi- Oh God, now the siren’s bust…. Awooga! Awooga! Abandon ship!
  • Holly: Well, the thing about a black hole – its main distinguishing feature – is it’s black. And the thing about space, the colour of space, your basic space colour, is black. So how are you supposed to see them?
    Rimmer: But five of them? . How can you manage to miss five black holes?
    Holly: It’s always the way, innit? You hang around for three million years in deep space and there hasn’t been one, then all of a sudden five turn up at once.
  • Rimmer: [While Lister is examining his 19th century toy soldiers] Please be careful with those, they’re antiques! How’s General Dumuoriez going to look with goat vindaloo all over his tunic?
    Lister: It’ll make him look more realistic, it’ll look like he’s got dysentery.
  • Rimmer: He told me that in a previous incarnation I was Alexander the Great’s chief eunuch.
    Lister: You know what? I believe you.
    Rimmer: To have lived a life alongside one of the greatest commanders of all time! No wonder the military’s in my blood!
    Lister: No wonder you’re such a good singer!
  • Rimmer: Mayday, Mayday! I wonder why they call it “Mayday” ? It’s only a bank holiday. Why not “Shrove Tuesday”, or “Ascension Sunday” ? Ascension Sunday, Ascension Sunday! 2nd Wednesday after Pentecost, 2nd Wednesday after Pentecost!
  • Lister: [on losing his virginity] Michelle Fisher. The eighth hole of Bootle Municipal Golf Course. Par 4, dogleg to the right, in the bunker behind the green.
    Rimmer: You lost your virginity on a golf course? How’d you have the nerve?
    Lister: It wasn’t in the middle of the Ryder Cup or anythin’! It was midnight.
  • Lister: She took all her clothes off and stood there in front of me, completely naked. I was so excited I nearly dropped me skateboard!
    Rimmer: Skateboard? How old were you?
    Lister: Twelve.
    Rimmer: Twelve?! Twelve years old? Twelve?! (pause) You can’t have been a full member of the golf club, then.
    Lister: Of course I wasn’t! It was just a place to go!
    Rimmer: You did it on a golf course and you weren’t a member?
    Lister: ‘Course I wasn’t!
    Rimmer: I used to play golf! I hope you raked the sand back nicely after you’d finished. Imagine getting your ball stuck in Lister’s buttock crevice. You’d need more than a niblick to get that out.
    Lister: Are you saying I’ve got a big bum?
    Rimmer: Big? It’s like two badly parked Volkswagens.
  • [Rimmer walks in to find Kryten, vacuum attached to his groin, trying to remove ‘polymorph’ boxershorts from a writhing Lister.]
    Rimmer: Well, I can’t say i’m totally shocked. You’d bonk anything wouldn’t you Lister!
  • [the boxershorts turn into a snake]
    Lister: I HATE snakes, they freak me out TOTALLY, snakes. They are my all time second worst fear, guy.
    Rimmer: What’s your first?
    Lister: [opens the bin to reveal an enormous salivating alien monster] This.
  • Lister: Well, I say let’s get out there and twat it!
  • Kryten: What about the Space Corps Directive, which states, “It is our primary overriding duty to contact other life-forms, exchange information and, whenever possible, bring them home”?
    Rimmer: What about the Rimmer Directive, which states “Never tangle with anything that’s got more teeth than the entire Osmond family”?
  • Rimmer: [fuming] Lister and mother. It’s a dream come true.
    Polymorph: [disguised as Rimmer’s mother] He’s so energetic! I honestly thought my false teeth were going to fall out!
    Rimmer: How lovely.
    Polymorph: The positions he bent me into…!
    Rimmer: Terrific. That sounds enchanting. Well done.
    Polymorph: And the things this boy can do with Alphabetti Spaghetti…!
    Holly: Cool it, Arnie!
    Rimmer: ALPHABETTI SPAGHETTI?!?! [the Polymorph drains his anger]
  • Rimmer: Erm, I think we’re losing sight of the real issue here, which is: what are we gonna call ourselves? Erm, and I think it comes down to a choice between “The League Against Salivating Monsters” or my own personal preference, which is “The Committee for the Liberation and Integration of Terrifying Organisms and their Rehabilitation Into Society.” Erm, one drawback with that: the abbreviation is “CLITORIS.”
  • Lister: It needs killing! If that means I have to sacrifice my life in some stupid pointless way, then all the better!
  • Rimmer: Have you ever been in dissection class held up a frog by its head? 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.
  • [Cat and Lister are playing Scrabble.]
    Cat: Hey hey hey, I’ve got you now, buddy! J, O, Z, X, Y, Q, K!
    Lister: That’s not a word.
    Cat: It’s a Cat word.
    Lister: Jozxyqk?
    Cat: That’s not how you pronounce it!
    Lister: What does it mean?
    Cat: It’s the sound you make when you get your sexual organs trapped in something.
    Lister: Is it in the dictionary?
    Cat: Well it could be, if you’re reading in the nude and close the book too quick. Jozxyqk!!!
  • Rimmer: When you’re younger you can eat what you like, drink what you like, and still climb into your 26″ waist trousers and zip them closed. Then you reach that age, 24-25, your muscles give up, they wave a little white flag, and without any warning at all you’re suddenly a fat bastard
  • Kryten: “Pub.” Ah, yes: a meeting place where people attempt to achieve advanced states of mental incompetence by the repeated consumption of fermented vegetable drinks.
  • Kryten: [reading Hitler’s diary] Things to remember: Stop milk, pay papers, invade Czechoslovakia!
  • Rimmer: Kryten! Unpack Rachel and get out the puncture repair kit!
  • Lister: [having jumped into a slide showing Hitler at Nuremburg] Ignore him, he’s a complete and total nutter, and he’s only got one testicle
    Rimmer: What is he doing? He’s scuffling with Adolf Hitler. You can’t just stick one on the leader of the Third Reich!
    Lister: [comes back out] I nicked his briefcase!
  • Rimmer: I used to be in the Samaritans.
    Lister: I know. For one morning.
    Rimmer: I couldn’t take any more.
    Lister: I don’t blame you. You spoke to five people and they all committed suicide. I wouldn’t mind, but one was a wrong number! He only phoned up for the cricket scores!
    Rimmer: Well, it’s not my fault everyone chose that day to jump out of buildings! It made the papers, you know. “Lemming Sunday,” they called it.
  • Rimmer: At least he gets 24 hours notice, that’s more than most of us get. Most of us get “Mind that bus!” “What bus?” “Splat!”
  • Kryten: Is it me or is that cockroach shuffling too loudly?
    Rimmer: Kryten, it’s called a hangover, don’t panic…
    Lister: We’re on a mining ship, 3 million years into deep space. Can someone please tell me where the smeg I got this traffic cone?!
    Cat: Hey, it’s not a good night unless you get a traffic cone! It’s the policewoman’s helmet and the suspenders I don’t understand!
  • Kryten: Is this the human value you call…friendship?
    Lister: Don’t give me that Star Trek crap, it’s too early in the morning.
  • Kryten: It’s alright sir, he’s bluffing he’s programed not to harm humans.
    Rimmer: Ah, ‘scuse me. Alright miladdo the party’s over. I had about as much of this as I’m goona take. It’s no good standing there with your chest and silly oiled nipples; doesn’t impress me one bit. Now I don’t know were you came from, and frankly I don’t much care, but if you don’t skidaddle pronto, you’re going to see a side of me you won’t much like.
    Lister: Whats he gonna do, drop his trousers?
  • Kryten: He’s an android. His brain couldn’t handle the concept of there being no silicon heaven.
    Lister: So how come yours can?
    Kryten: Because I knew something he didn’t.
    Lister: What?
    Kryten: I knew I was lying. No silicon heaven? Preposterous! Where would all the calculators go?
  • Kryten: Has anyone ever told you that the configuration and juxtaposition of your features is extraordinarily apposite?
    Camille: Wow, you really know all the lines, don’t you?
  • Kryten: Oh, spin my nipple nuts and send me to Alaska!
  • Cat: What was it like being a hamster?
    Lister: It was better than being a chicken. Have you seen the size of an egg? Seen the size of a chicken’s bum? That’s what all the clucking was about. I was trying to say in chicken-talk “for God’s sake, give me an epidural!”
  • Kryten: [upon showing Lister a photo of his penis] Well?
    Lister: Well what?
    Kryten: Well, what do you think?
    Lister: I’m not quite with you here, Kryten, what am I supposed to say?
    Kryten: I want to know, is that normal?
    Lister: What, taking photographs of it and showing it to your mates? No, it’s not!
    Kryten: Well, i-it’s supposed to look like that?
    Lister:….well yeah.
    Kryten: But it’s hideous! That’s the best design they could come up with!? Are you seriously telling me there were choices and someone said “Ah. There. That’s it. That’s the shape we’re looking for; the ‘last-chicken-in-the-shop’ look.” Shakespeare had one. Einstein. Perry Como sang ‘Memories Are Made of This’ with one of those stashed in his slacks!?’
    Lister: Well yeah.
    Kryten: No wonder humans don’t have a zoom mode!
  • Lister: No vacuum cleaner should give a human being a double polaroid!
  • Kryten: I’ve been a complete and total polaroid-head.
    Lister: Yeah, you’ve had your head right up your recharge socket.
  • Lister: Of course, lager! The only thing that can kill a vindaloo!
  • [Lister looks at the stasis pod, while suffering from Space Mumps]
    Lister: So who is she, Holly?
    Holly: Says on the pod, Barbara Bellini
    Lister: Barbara Bellini, what a beautiful name. There’s no justice, how can this happen to me? Maybe I can wear a turban and pretend I’m from India.
    Cat: Maybe you can stick a spike in your head and pretend you’re the Taj Mahal!
  • [After sitting through 3 hours of a slideshow of Rimmer’s holiday on the diesel decks]
    Kryten: Sir, can we take a break? It appears that my intelligence circuits have melted.
  • [Lister takes the witness stand]
    Kryten: Name?
    Lister: Dave Lister.
    Kryten: Occupation?
    Lister: [looks bewildered for a moment, then answers] Uh, bum.
    Kryten: Sir, would you describe the accused [Rimmer] as a friend?
    Cat: Take the Fifth!
    Kryten: Sir, please answer the question. Remember you are under polygraphic surveillance: Would you describe the accused as a friend?
    Lister: No, I’d describe the accused as a git.
  • [The crew are talking about how to go back to the bridge through closed doors.]
    Cat: I’ve got it. We laser our way through.
    Kryten: An excellent plan, with just two drawbacks: One, we don’t have a power source for lasers; and Two, we don’t have any lasers.
  • [after using Kryten’s flat head for the job]
    Lister: You alright man?
    Kryten: I’m fine thank you Susan
  • Cat: Come on, man, you gotta sacrifice your life. I’m not asking you to do anything I wouldn’t do.
    Rimmer: You? You’d sacrifice your life for the good of the crew?
    Cat: No! I’d sacrifice your life for the good of the crew.
  • Lister: Computer Senility. It’s such a weird condition.
    Kryten: I know. I had a mechanoid friend once who suffered from the same affliction. His name was Gilbert, but he preferred it if people called him “Rameses Niblick the Third, Kerplunk Kerplunk, Whoops, Where’s My Thribble?”. A sad case.
    Rimmer: Well, if you ask me the eskimos had the right idea. They knew how to handle the elderly and the permanently baffled: middle of the night, they’d take them out into the blizzard, remove their pyjamas, and just leave them to it.
    Kryten: That’s how eskimos cared for their old people?
    Rimmer: Absolutely. That’s why there’s no eskimo word for ‘Eastbourne’.
  • Cat: Great(!) Where does this leave us?!
    Kryten: It leaves us floating aimlessly in space with no navigation and a rapidly diminishing emergency power supply. It leaves us galloping up diarrhea drive without a saddle.
  • Lister: I’m not going to get blasted Rimmer, just nicely drunk
    Rimmer: Define ‘nicely drunk’ as ‘nicely drunk’ horizontal or perpendicular.
  • Rimmer: If you miss, we’re going to get a planet in the face
    Lister: I’m not going to mish
    Rimmer: Mish?
    Lister: What?
    Rimmer: Mish, ‘I’m not going to mish’ you said. You’ve only had 4 cans and your steaming!
    Lister: Rimmer, will you relax. I know what i’m doing, I am not pished!
    [walks into something off camera with a loud clatter]
  • Kryten: You are the most obnoxious, trumped-up, farty little smeghead it has ever been my misfortune to encounter!
  • Ace: Smoke me a kipper, I’ll be back for breakfast.
  • Rimmer: You don’t like Reggie Wilson? What? Not even “Pop Goes Delius” or “Funking Up Wagner”?
    Lister: I prefer something slightly more melodious, like the long, drawn-out death rattle of a man suffering from terminal flatulence.
  • Rimmer: [in a scathing tone] I recognize you two. Weren’t you two the double action centrefold in July’s edition of “Big Boys in Boots”?
  • Rimmer: Skipper?
    Ace: Thought he deserved a nickname, Skipper sounded good.
    Rimmer: Ace and Skipper? You sound like a kids TV series about a boy and his bush kangaroo.
  • Caligula: Very well. Rasputin, bring in the bucket of soapy frogs and remove his trousers.
  • Cat: What’s it made of?
    Lister: Wood. IT’s kind of an inverted L shape made of wood.
    Cat: Does it have a kind of rope motif?
    LIster: There is a kind of noosey theem to it, yeah!
    Cat: It’s gallows! Look if it’s gallows then say it’s gallows! I can take it!
    Lister: Ok! It’s gallows!
    Cat: Aah! They’re building the gallows to hang us!
    LISTER: Look man, don’t panic. We’re gonna escape.
    ‘CAT: How?
    LISTER: Just…hijack the guards when they come in, nick their uniforms and stroll out.
    CAT: Are you insane? Do you seriously expect me to wear grey out of season? I’d rather hang.
    LISTER: Hang on, hang on. Something’s happening. Some kind of parade or drill but…
    CAT: But what?
    LISTER: Hang on. These guys aren’t Nazis…they’re all wearing different period costumes. There’s one looks like Al Capone, there’s another like Mussolini, Richard III, Napoleon. Smeg, it’s like all the worst people in history have been brought together in one place. Oh my God, there’s James Last! I recognize him from Rimmer’s record collection.
    CAT: What are they doing?.
    LISTER: Well, just lining up in … in some kind of firing squad. Woah, Woah! Hang on, hang on. Someone’s being brought out, they’re tying him to a stake. It’s Winnie the Pooh.
    CAT: What?
    LISTER: Winnie the Pooh, I swear! He’s refusing the blindfold.
    CAT: They’re tying Winnie the Pooh to a stake?
    LISTER: That’s something no one should ever have to see.
  • [Rimmer tells Lister of his great “victory” leading the good droids against the fascist droids.]
    Lister: How many survived?
    Rimmer: Well, we haven’t had time to make a full official estimate. But at a rough guess, and obviously this is subject to alteration pending information updates, roundabout: none of them.
    Lister: So you wiped out the entire population of this planet?
    Rimmer: You make it sound so negative, Lister. Don’t you see? The deranged menace that once threatened this world is vanquished.
    Lister: No it isn’t, pal. You’re still here!
  • Cat: He’s a transvestite?
    Lister: Yeah!
    Cat: With those hips?!
  • Cat: What, am I the only sane one here? Why don’t we drop the defensive shields?
    Kryten: A superlative suggestion, sir, with just two minor flaws. One: we don’t have any defensive shields. And two: we don’t have any defensive shields. Now I realise that, technically speaking, that’s only one flaw; but I thought it was such a big one, it was worth mentioning twice.
  • Lister: Lister to Red Dwarf. We have in our midst a complete smeg pot. Brains in the anal region. Chin absent, presumed missing. Genitalia small and inoffensive. Of no value or interest.
  • Kryten: They’ve taken Mr. Rimmer! Sir, they’ve taken Mr. Rimmer!
    Cat: Quick — let’s get out of here before they bring him back!
  • [Rimmer and the holgram Nivana Crane have just finished having casual sex.]
    Rimmer: That was just unbelievable!
    Nivana: It’s never been like that before
    Rimmer: Was it OK?
    Nivana: It was, different.
    Rimmer: Different?
    Nivana: You make love like a Japanese meal; small potions but so many courses
    Rimmer: Look Nivana, I hope you didn’t get me wrong just now, that meant nothing to me, truly less than nothing, really.
    Nivana: Good
    Rimmer: We may as well have been playing Tennis
    Nivana: As is should be
    Rimmer: I don’t suppose you fancy a tie break?
  • Nivana: You know, we usually talk
    Rimmer: What do you talk about?
    Nivana: Research, new theories, mission profiles.
    Rimmer: I’m sorry, I must have seemed very ignorant. I hardly said anything apart from ‘Geronimo!’
  • Rimmer: So, Kryten, you’ve heard of this “Inquisitor”?
    Kryten: Only as a myth; a dark fable; a horror tale, told across the flickering embers of a midnight fire, wherever hardened space dogs gather to drink fermented vegetable products and compete in tales of blood-chilling terror!
    Rimmer: A simple “yes” would have sufficed.
  • Kryten: That is the Inquisitor; he prunes away the wasters, expunges the wretched and deletes the worthless
    Rimmer: We’re in big trouble!
  • Kryten: Sir! Sir, you don’t have to be a great philanthropist, or a missionary worker, you simply have to seize the gift of life!
    Rimmer: Oh, God.
    Kryten: Make a contribution.
    Rimmer: Oh, God.
    Kryten: No matter how small.
    Rimmer: Oh, God.
    Kryten: You simply have to have lead a life that wasn’t totally egocentric, vain and self-serving.
    Rimmer: You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?
    Kryten: I’m just trying to make you feel better, sir.
    Rimmer: Well, shut up then!
  • Inquisitor Rimmer: Now then: justify yourself.
    Rimmer: Well…first, I’ve –
    Inquisitor Rimmer: Liar!
  • Inquisitor Cat: Justify your existence. What contribution have you made?
    Cat: I have given pleasure to the world because I have such a beautiful ass!
    Inquisitor Cat: Well, that’s true.
    Cat: Can I go now?
    Inquisitor Cat: …That’s your case?
    Cat: You need more?
    Inquisitor Cat: Some might say that’s a pretty shallow argument.
    Cat: Some might say I’m a pretty shallow guy, but a shallow guy with a great ass!
  • Inquisitor Kryten: Well, Kryten? Justify yourself.
    Kryten: I’m not sure I can.
    Inquisitor Kryten: But surely your life is replete with good works? There can be few individuals who have lived a more selfless life.
    Kryten: But I am programmed to live unselfishly. And therefore, any good works I do come not out of fine motives, but as a result of a series of binary commands I am compelled to obey.
    Inquisitor Kryten: Well, then, how can any mechanical justify himself?
    Kryten: Perhaps only if he attempted to break his programming and conduct his life according to a set of values he arrived at independently.
    Inquisitor Kryten: Your argument invites deletion.
    Kryten: The rules are yours, not mine.
    Inquisitor Kryten: Do you wish to be erased?
    Kryten: I am programmed not to wish for anything. I serve.
    Inquisitor Kryten: In a human, this type of behaviour could be considered “stubborn”.
    Kryten: But I am not human. And neither are you. And it is not our place to judge them. I wonder why you do.
  • Inquisitor Lister: well, get out of this one smeg head
    Lister: What are you talking about?
    Inquisitor Lister: You know what you could have made of your life if you’d tried, what you could’ve become.
    Lister: So?
    Inquisitor Lister: You’ve got brains man, brains you’ve never used.
    Lister: so?
    Inquisitor Lister: So then justify yourself.
    Lister: Spin on it!
  • Lister: Listen, Kryten, I’ve been thinkin’ about this, I’ve come up with something.
    Kryten: Yes, sir?
    Lister: I’m gonna use my brains for the first time in my life.
    Kryten: Considering the circumstances, sir, do you really believe that’s wise?
  • Kryten: Sir, a couple of brief points: firstly, you’re not a qualified service engineer, and, consequently, sawing me in two will invalidate my guarantee; secondly, I wouldn’t trust you to open a can of sardines that was already open.
  • Cat: Okay. I say let’s get into the jet-powered rocket pants and junior birdman the hell out of here!
    Kryten: An excellent and inventive suggestion, sir, with just two tiny drawbacks: a) We don’t have any jet-powered rocket pants; and b) there’s no such thing as jet-powered rocket pants outside the fictional serial “Robbie Rocket Pants.”
    Cat: Well, that’s put a crimp on an otherwise damn fine plan.
  • Lister: We’re a real Mickey Mouse operation, aren’t we?
    Cat: Mickey Mouse? We ain’t even Betty Boop!
  • Dr. Hildegarde Lanstrom: Schopenhauer was right, wouldn’t you say? Life without pain has no meaning. Gentlemen! I wish to give your lives meaning…
  • Dr. Hildegarde Lanstrom: (over radio) Hello, my name is Doctor Hildegarde Lanstrom and I’m quite quite mad
    Rimmer: (jokingly) Are you really, how absolutely splendid
    Dr. Hildegarde Lanstrom: I have a riddle for you. What’s dead, and dead, and dead all over?
    Rimmer: Give in Doctor fruit-loop, do tell me.
    Dr. Hildegarde Lanstrom: yoooooooooooooooooooou.
  • [discussing the looming 3 months in quarantine] Kryten: Sir, it’s a scientific fact that the human male needs to spend time by himself
    Lister: Is it?
    Kryten: Hm, the most popular pass times have always been ones that males can enjoy alone. Angling, golf and of course the all time number 1
    Cat: I’s not just humans, look what happens when two male tigers are locked up together. One of them winds up on the others toothpick
    Kryten: Lions, tigers, scorpions, rats. Even vultures when they’re in captivity.
    Lister: What are you saying to me? ‘Vultures need personal space’? They need time alone to put their feet up and read ‘What Carcass?’ magazine?
  • [after a few days] Lister: I’m just saying, there’s 79 more days to go.
    Kryten: I suggest then if you want to still be alive when there are only 78 more days, then you do not blow your nose.
    Lister: Do you mind if I ask why?
    Kryten: Well, lets forget the noise and the revolting burbling sound and get straight to the really gross part when you always, and I do mean ALWAYS, having blown your nose, you have to open up the handkerchief and take a look at the contents. I mean, why? What do expect to see in there? A Turner seascape perhaps? The face of the Madonna? An undiscovered Shakespearean sonnet?
  • Rimmer: Gentlemen… your conversation makes interesting listening.
    Lister: Rimmer, is that you?
    Rimmer: Oh Yes…
    Lister: How long have you been listenin’?
    Rimmer: Two, maybe three hours…
    Lister: Well nobody’s got any disease, man.
    Cat: We’re clean.
    Kryten: You have to re-screen us, sir, as per directive 699.
    Lister: No-one’s got any virus, and no-one’s smeggin’ nuts!
    Rimmer: Well that’s good.
    [The lights come up, and Rimmer is shown sitting wearing a red and white gingham dress and army boots]
    Rimmer: Is something amiss?
    Lister: Hell no! What could possibly be amiss?
    Rimmer: Really? I’m wearing a red and white gingham dress… and army boots… and you think nothing is amiss?
  • Rimmer: No I can’t let you out
    Lister: Why Not?
    Rimmer: Because the King of the Potato People wont let me. I begged him, I got down on my knees, and wept. He wants to keep you here…Keep you here for ten years.
    Cat: Can we see him?
    Rimmer: See who?
    Cat: The King.
    Rimmer: Do you have a magic carpet?
    Lister: Yeh…a little three seater!
    Rimmer: So let me get this straight: you want to fly on a magic carpet, to see the king of the potato people, and plead with him for your freedom… and you’re telling me you’re completely sane? I think that calls for two hours of W-O-O.
    Lister: [panicked] What’s W-O-O?
    Cat: You had to ask…
    Rimmer: With… Out.. Oxygen! Two hours without oxygen. That’ll teach you to be breadbaskets!
  • Rimmer: They’ve been naughty boys, haven’t they, Mr Flibble?
    “Mr Flibble”: Yes.
    Rimmer: What happens to naughty boys who’ve been naughty, Mr Flibble?
    “Mr Flibble”: Uncle Arnie fries them alive with his hex vison.
  • Lister: Kryten man! Are you okay?
    Kryten: I have a medium-sized fire axe buried in my spinal column. That sort of thing can really put a crimp on your day.
  • Rimmer: Mr Flibble is very cross, you shouldn’t have run away from him. What are we going to do with them Mr Flibble?
    [Rimmer raises his arm to his ear and Mr Flibble ‘whispers’ into Rimmer’s ear. Rimmer makes a shocked face]
    Rimmer: We can’t possibly do that! Who’d clear up the mess?
  • Holly: Rude alert! Rude alert! An electrical fire has knocked out my voice recognition unicycle! Many Wurlitzers are missing from my database. Abandon shop! This is not a daffodil. Repeat: This is not a daffodil.
    Rimmer: Well, thankfully Holly’s unaffected.
  • Lister: I’ll tell you one thing. I’ve been to a parallel universe, I’ve seen time running backwards, I’ve played pool with planets and I’ve given birth to twins, but I never thought in my entire life I’d taste an edible Pot Noodle.
  • Higher Cat: We find clothes to be a distraction from the pursuit of spiritual and intellectual fulfillment.
    Cat: Really? I find spiritual and intellectual fulfillment to be a distraction from the pursuit of clothes.
  • Kryten: These are our higher selves. They are who we could have become if all the negative aspects of our characters were removed.
    Rimmer: You mean hippies.
    Kryten: With respect sir, you think Jesus was a hippie.
    Rimmer: Well, he was. He had long hair and he didn’t have a job. What more do you want?
  • [After Dave, Higher Cat, and Rimmer have all passed by a junction of two corridors Higher Kryten stops and yells down it]
    Higher Kryten: Welcome brothers we bring food and medical supplies.
    [Higher Kryten is shot once in the left shoulder by an unseen person. Lister pulls him away from the junction.]
    Higher Kryten: Poor devil, his gun must have gone off accidentally.
    [Higher Kryten steps back out into the junction.]
    Higher Kryten: Welcome my children we bring you balms and tinctures.
    [Higher Kryten is shot two more times, once in the left shoulder, and once in the abdomen.]
    Higher Kryten: We would be pleased to sing you healing hymns!
    [Higher Kryten is shot two more times and falls. Lister steps out into the junction.]
    Lister: Is he dead?
    Rimmer: We can only hope.
  • Low Rimmer: I’m going to lash you to within an inch of your life, and then, i’m going to have you.
  • Kryten: Question which occurs: if this ocean is supposed to be teeming with new lifeforms, where are they all?
    Lister: What are you implying?
    Kryten: No implication intended, sir.
    Lister: Yes, there is. You’re saying there’s some huge damn fish out there, aren’t yer? Some kinda gigantic weird pre-historic leviathan who’s porked his way through this entire ocean.
    Kryten: That’s one option.
    Lister: Any alternatives?
    Kryten: None that occur.
  • Cat: Don’t fish swim south for the winter?
    Kryten: No, sir. That’s birds.
    Cat: Birds swim south? How can they breathe?
  • Lister: Why would a haddock kill itself? …Why am I even asking that question?
  • Rimmer: I know that, emotionally speaking, this isn’t the news you want to hear right now. But there’s a blob on the sonar scope the size of New Mexico and it’s heading your way.
    Holly: I think our friend the Suicide Squid is about to put in an appearance.
    Kryten: Where is it, precisely?
    Rimmer: Directly above you. 2,000 fathoms and diving.
    Lister: Oh, thanks a lot, Rimmer. You know the state we’re in and you have to go and give us news like that. You couldn’t have *lied*?
    Rimmer: I *was* lying. It’s only 1,000 fathoms.
  • Rimmer: This venom — are we safe in here?
    Lister: It penetrated the hull of a class D space corps seeding ship. In comparison, we’re a sardine tin.
    Rimmer: It’s coming straight for us.
    Lister: There’s only three alternatives: it thinks we’re either a threat, food or a mate…. It’s either gonna kill us, eat us or hump us. Either we persuade him we’re not that kinda oceanic salvage vessel, or we scarper pronto.
    Cat: To get diddled by a giant squid on a first date? Think how I’d feel in the morning!
  • Rimmer: Kryten, open the next one.
    Kryten: Listen, whoever you are, don’t push your luck by ordering whoever I am around, because almost certainly, whoever I am, I’m not the kind of guy who’s gonna take any crap from whoever you are. So before you start ordering me around, let’s establish if I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t mind being ordered around or if I’m the kind of guy who gets all uptight about being ordered around by whatever the kind of guy you are.
    Rimmer: All I said was open the next one.
  • Rimmer: This is a nightmare! I’m on the run from the Fascist Police with a murderer, a mass murderer and a man in a Bri-Nylon shirt!
  • Cat: What the hell happened to my teeth? I could open beer bottles with my overbite!
  • Cat: No, no! I don’t want to be Duane Dibbley!
  • Duane Dibbley: So this is really me? A no-style gimbo with teeth the Druids could use as a place of worship?
  • [Lister-Sebastian and Kryten-Jake see two propaganda posters]Sebastian Doyle: [reading] “Vote Fascist for a Third Glorious Decade of Total Law Enforcement”?
    Jake Bullet: [reading] “Be a Government Informer. Betray Your Family & Friends. Fabulous Prizes to be Won”?
  • Cop: [to Sebastian-Lister] Come out of the shadows, Voter.
    Sebastian Doyle: What’s the beef? Did she steal your lunch box?
    Cop: M… mm… many apologies, Voter Colonel.
    Sebastian Doyle: You know me?
    Cop: Of course, Voter Colonel.
    Sebastian Doyle: Who am I?
    Cop: You are Colonel Sebastian Doyle, Section Chief of CGI, Head of the Ministry of Alteration.
    Sebastian Doyle: Remind me a little: what do we do at the Ministry of Alteration?
    Cop: You… change people, Sir.
    Sebastian Doyle: In what way?
    Cop: You change them from being alive people, to being dead people. To purify Democracy.
    Billy Doyle: Purify?
    Cop: [proudly] No one has done more to purge the ballot boxes than the Voter Colonel.
    Duane Dibbley: So why has he been away for 4 years then?
    Cop: Excuse me, Voter Colonel, but is this some sort of test?
    Sebastian Doyle: Answer him.
    Cop: The rumour was that you had grown weary of your glorious duties and had gone away in secret to renew yourself.
  • Rimmer: There, on the floor… P-S-I-R-E-N-S… “Psirens?”
    Kryten: The poor sucker must have written it using a combination of his own blood, and even his own intestines.
    Rimmer: But who would do that?
    Lister: Someone who BADLY needed a pen.
    Cat: What I wanna know is why he went to the trouble of using his own kidney as a full-stop.
    Rimmer: I don’t think he meant to do that. I think it just… plopped out.
  • [Starbug is threatened by a giant rogue asteroid that could be a mere illusion.]
    Kryten: Suggest we maintain course. That asteroid does not exist.
    Rimmer: Suppose you’re wrong?
    Kryten: Sir, I’ll stake my reputation on it.
    Rimmer: Kryten, you haven’t got a reputation.
    Kryten: No, sir, but I’m hoping to acquire one from this escapade.
  • (after being proved correct) Kryten: Well, I can’t stand around saving your necks all day, I guess i’ll make a start on that ironing
  • Cat: There’s an old cat saying, “It’s better to live one hour as a tiger than a whole lifetime as a worm.”
    Rimmer: There’s an old human saying, “Who’s ever heard of a worm skin rug?”
  • Kryten: Sir, is it possible you could have made a mis-smelling?
    Cat: Listen, butter-pat head! My nostril-hairs are vibrating faster than the springs on a Spaniard’s honeymoon bed! I’m telling you, there’s something out there!
  • Rimmer: May I remind you of Space Corps Directive 34124?
    Kryten: 34124? “No officer with false teeth should attempt oral sex in zero-gravity”?
  • Kryten: Whatever it is, they clearly have a technology way in advance of our own!
    Lister: So do the Albanian State Washing Machine Company.
  • Rimmer: Step up to Red Alert!
    Kryten: Sir, are you absolutely sure? It does mean changing the bulb.
    Rimmer: There’s always some excuse, isn’t there?!
  • Rimmer: Lister, she’s a computer sprite. She’s just a load of pixels.
    Lister: Yeah, but what pixels.
  • Cat: You’re going to go with one of my plans? Are you nuts? What happens if we all get killed? I’ll never hear the last of it.
  • Death: Well, Sheriff, looks like it’s just little old you.
    Kryten: I’m not afraid, Mr Death, sir. My friends have bought enough time for me to complete the antidote program. So, if you’ll forgive the confrontational imperative, go for your guns you scum-sucking molluscs!
  • Death: We’re gonna cut you up so small, the worms won’t even have to chew!
    Rimmer: You can’t scare me, I’m a coward! I’m always scared!
  • [First lines of the episode; Rimmer is trying to get the sleeping Lister and Cat to take part in an emergency drill]
    (Lister and the Cat are still asleep)
    Rimmer: Er, perhaps you didn’t quite catch that – I said SCRAMBLE!
    Lister: [sleepily] Yeah, that’ll be great with bacon and beans, man.
  • Cat: Look what it did to me! It’s turned me into Duane Dibbley — the Duke of Dork.
  • [While looking for the Emohawk]
    Kryten: According to the psi-scan, it’s somewhere in this location.
    Lister: It’s the barrel! [shoots at the barrel] Sorry. False alarm. That chain, it’s moving! [shoots chain] Sorry. Sorry.
    Kryten: Sir, try and remain calm. You’re experiencing a classic knee-jerk, paranoid reaction to a terror situation. It’s essential at this time that we – IT’S THE WALL! [shoots the wall] Shame overload. I… I… I sorry.
  • Rimmer: Kryten, kindly get to the point before I jam your nose between your cheeks and make it the filling of a buttock sandwich.
  • Rimmer: So let me get this straight. If we board that ship and we get captured, we’re finished. However, if we board that ship, don’t get captured but the superstructure disintegrates around us, we are finished. On the other hand, if we board that ship, don’t get captured, and the superstructure doesn’t disintegrate around us, but we can’t find any fuel, we are in fact finished.
  • Rimmer: [on facing imminent destruction of Starbug] There’s less choice than a Welsh fish and chip shop.
  • Rimmer: In which case we can remove him from duty as per Space Corps Directive 196156.
    Kryten: 196156? Any officer caught sniffing the saddle of the exercise bicycle in the women’s gym will be discharged without trial? Hmm. I’m sorry, sir, that doesn’t quite get to the nub of the matter for me.
  • Rimmer: I’m a competitive man, Kryten. Always have been. That’s what makes me what I am.
    Kryten: We’re all perfectly well aware of what you are, sir.
  • Kryten: Rogue Simulants always carry large stocks of food supply in order to prolong the torment of their torture victims. In some cases, they’ve kept subjects alive for 40 years in a state of perpetual agony.
    Rimmer: If we wanted to live in a state of perpetual agony, we’d let Lister play his guitar.
  • Cat: There’s an old cat saying: “If you’re gonna eat tuna, expect bones.”
    Rimmer: There’s an old human saying: “If you’re gonna talk garbage, expect pain.”
  • Lister: [deciding on whether or not to go into an abandoned Rogue Simulant ship and get food] Kryten, what’s for dinner?
    Kryten: Tonight, sir, Asteroid and Lichen Stew followed by Dandelion Sorbet.
    Lister: We’re going in.
  • Kryten: [to Lister] Sir, are you really saying you would rather have a psychopathic mechanical killer rip off your skull and play your frontal lobes like a xylophone than have another bowl of my nourishing space nettle soup?
    Cat: Buddy, I’d hand him the sticks and hold up the sheet music!
  • Cat: [to a Rogue Simulant] There’s one thing you should know. Last time we met I was wearing a cute little black number with peach trim and gold spangles, and although it looks like I’m wearing the same outfit today, it is in fact an entirely different cute little black number, with completely different gold spangles!
    Kryten: That was an important speech, sir, and it needed to be made. Might I suggest, however, that the rest of this discourse is continued by those with brains larger than a grape?
  • Cat: All in all, a 100% successful trip!
    Kryten: But, sir, we lost Mr. Rimmer.
    Cat: All in all, a 100% successful trip!
  • [Rimmer’s in deep trouble] Cat: You know, there’s an old cat saying. But you don’t wanna hear it right now.
  • [Kryten has given Rimmer a set of Chinese worry balls to help him cope with his stress-related nerve disorder] Kryten: Please, sir, don’t panic.
    Rimmer: It’s not panic, it’s a full blown hysterical fit.
    Kryten: Grind those balls, sir. Grind them!
    Rimmer: So let me get this straight. If we board that ship and get captured, we’re finished. However, if we board that ship, don’t get captured, but the superstructure disintegrates around us, we’re finished. On the other hand, if we board that ship, don’t get captured and the superstructure doesn’t disintegrate around us, but we can’t find any fuel. We are in fact finished?
    Lister: That’s about the shape of it, yea.
    Kryten: After you with the balls sir…
  • [Lister, Kryten and the Cat are surrounded by a group of bad Rimmers in “Rimmerworld”]
  • Lister: This might sound like a bit of a corny line, but… I can’t bring myself round to say it.
    Rimmer: Say what?
    Lister: Take us to your leader.
    Kryten: Sir, how could you?
  • Rimmer: Dear lord, what has created such foulness? Is it the product of a marriage twixt woman and gerbil?
  • Rimmer: Enough of this heresy. At the stroke of dawn take them out and kill them. And when you’ve killed them burn the bodies, then bring me the cold ashes on a silver plate with a glass of chilled sancerre.
    Cat: This guy’s an animal. Doesn’t he know it’s red wine with cold ashes.
  • Lister: There’s got to be a way out. There hasn’t been a prison built that could hold Derek Custer. Why don’t we scrape away this mortar here, slide one of these bricks out, then using a rope weaved from strands of this hessian, rig up a kind of a pulley system so that when a guard comes in, using it as a trip wire, gets laid out, and we put Rimmer in the guard’s uniform, he leads us out, we steal some swords, and fight our way back to the ‘bug?
    Kryten: Or we could use the teleporter.
    Lister: Or in a pinch, we could use the teleporter.
  • Rimmer: It can’t have gone unnoticed that morale is at an all-time low. We’ve lost all trace of Red Dwarf and supplies are low. So I have decided to appoint myself morale officer and set myself the task of raising morale all round. Now I thought it would productive if we all met once a week and had a coffee or a beer — whatever’s your poison — and get any troubles we may have off our chests. Any objections? [the others mutter agreement.] Well, as it’s week one, why don’t I start? You know what it is about Lister that really makes me want to puke? That really makes me want to stab him in both eyes with an icepick? Everything, that’s what. Especially his godawful chirpy gerbil-faced optimism. And as for the Cat — what an unbelievable git. And Kryten — if he doesn’t change pronto, I swear I’ll attach jump leads to his nipple nuts and fry him like a Cajun catfish. Well, that’s cleared the air. I don’t know about you, but I certainly feel better. Thank for your contributions gentlemen. See you at next week’s morale meeting. Marvellous. [exits]
    Lister: Good meeting.
  • [The Dwarfers acquire a time travel device, testing it out by sending the ship to the year 1421]
    Rimmer: Give us visual. Let’s see what it’s like out there.
    Lister: Okay, punching it up.
    [They see nothing but empty space]
    Lister: Hey, I don’t get it! We’re still where we were!
    Kryten: Of course. We’re still in deep space, sir, only now we’re in deep space in the 15th century. Isn’t it wonderful?
    Rimmer: So we’re still three million years away from Earth?
    Kryten: Well, yes.
    Lister: [Sighs] Taking her back to the present.
    Kryten: Keyed in. Engage.
    [They go forward in time]
    Rimmer: So forgive me if I’m being thicker than the offspring of a village idiot and a TV weather girl, but what was the point of that little exercise? Fun though it was drinking in the heady medieval atmosphere of Pre-Renaissance deep space, the drive is next to useless, yes?
  • after discovering Lister is now just a brain in a jar
    Rimmer: Ohhhhhh dear!
    Cat: What? Is he fat?
    Rimmer: Far from it, he’s lost a bit of weight actually. In fact he’s lost quite a bit of everything.
  • [From the last scene not shown in the final cut]
    Lister: They aren’t margaritas, that’s urine recyc!
  • Rimmer: Do you think it’s because the subspace conduits have locked with the transponder calibrations and caused a major tachyon surge that has overloaded the time matrix?
    Kryten: Ah, no, sir. I’ve just been jabbing it too hard.
  • Cat: How come you need more memory? Over the years you’ve had more RAM than a field of sheep!
  • Kryten: (after his guilt chip is removed) Just call me badass!
  • Ace: You can’t judge a book by its cover.
    Lister: And you can’t confuse Rimmer with a book. For a start, a book’s got a spine.
  • Ace: Princess Bonjella? Ace Rimmer. There’ll be time for explanations later and, hopefully, some sex.
  • Lister: Are you my faithful man servant or what?
    Kryten: I’m ashamed to be with you sir. I haven’t been this embarrassed since I was loosening my adjustment screws, and my entire groinal box dropped into Mr Rimmer’s soup.
  • AR medieval King: Good Knight, bring me this knaves head on a silver platter
    Lister (of Smeg): hey, steady!
    AR medieval King: Then disembowel him and feed his innards to the crows
  • Lister (of Smeg): This is worse than playing away at Leeds.
  • (New)Ace: Stoke me a clipper, I’ll be back for Christmas.
  • Kochanski: Rimmer?
    Rimmer: Yes, ma’am?
    Kochanski: Have sex with someone, and that’s an order.
    Rimmer: Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.
    Lister: [Hands him a card] Here, phone this number. Say I sent ya. Tell her it’s an emergency.
  • [Lister’s old girlfriend has turned up from a parallel dimension]
  • Kryten: [to Lister] We’ve lost sight of Miss Kochanski’s ship, sir. And we’re fast running out of time.
    Lister: Yeah, it’s good, isn’t it?
    Kryten: No sir, I don’t believe it is.
    Lister: Why? Don’t you like her?
    Kryten: I’m a mere mechanoid, sir. It’s hardly my place to point out what a bossy old trollop she is.
  • Kryten: I’m going to end up on my own again, just like I did on the Nova 5.
    Lister: You killed the crew, Kryten! No wonder you were left on your own! All right, it was an accident, but nonetheless!
    Kryten: But what about before that? It was the same on the SS Augustus!
    Lister: Well, they died of old age!
    Kryten: You see?
  • Kryten: You’re not good enough for him. That’s all. OK, he may walk around smelling like a Balti House laundry basket, but he doesn’t need the likes of you swapping dimensions like there’s no tomorrow and bewitching him with your… in and out bits. Pointy and unnecessary.
    Kochanski: You’ve got big problems, you know that?
  • (after Lister impales Kochanski with a harpoon in attempting to rescue her from ‘non-space’.)
  • Kryten: It’s an obscene phone call, sir. I think it’s for you.
  • Lister: To pee or not to pee, that is the question.
  • Kochanski: How did I end up like this, on a ship where the fourth most popular pastime is going down to the laundry room and watching my knickers spin dry?
  • Kryten: They always say the hardest part about leaving Cyberspace is realizing that the whole universe does not revolve around you.
    Cat: Sure doesn’t. It revolves around me!
    Kochanski: Absolutely…
    Cat: No. I’m serious! Look at the evidence!
    Lister: What evidence?
    Cat: Take food: until I bite into it, it has no taste. Even when I know what I’m gonna say, it never bores me!
    Lister: You, and you alone.
    Cat: And here’s the kicker, all the interesting things that ever happen to me happened when I was in the room! Coincidence? Get outta here…
  • [Lyrics to the The Rimmer Song in The Rimmer Experience:]
    He’s Arnold, Arnold, Arnold Rimmer,
    More reliable than a garden strimmer,
    He’s never been mistaken for Yul Brynner;
    He’s not bald, and his head doesn’t glimmer.
  • Master of the wit and the repartee,
    His command of space directives is uncanny.
    How come he’s such a genius? Don’t ask me!
    Ask Arnold, Arnold, Arnold Rimmer.
    He’s also a fantastic swimmer,
    And if you play your cards right,
    Then he just might come round for dinner.
  • Kryten: [about Kochanski] And another thing is that she keeps her pants in her sock drawer! Do you know how time-consuming that can be to put it all back?
    Cat: You mean you’ve seen her pants?
  • Kochanski: Do you think I like living in this big skip with thrusters? And to top it all off, I am faced with a neurotic droid who is completely obsessed with my pants drawer!
    Kryten: You mean I’m not alone? Oh, I see. You mean me.
  • Lister: I’m losing it, man, otherwise I’d never be thinking stuff like that. Kissing Rimmer? I’d rather be bobbing for apples at the Reading festival!
  • Lister: [about Rimmer] I never wanna see or hear from that scum sucking, lying, weasel minded smeghead in my entire life.
    Kryten: Sigmund Freud, eat your heart out.
  • [Kryten has invaded Kochanski’s “Pride and Prejudice” VR game with a tank]
  • Kryten: Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I said supper is ready.
  • Kochanski: Let’s at least ask someone who’s at least going to give us a slightly more intelligent opinion. Hello, wall! What do you think?
  • Cat: “Cat do this!” “Cat do that!” What am I? A dog?
  • Cat: [about Kryten, whose head had just blown up] Life without a head. That’s gonna seriously put a real crimp on his lifestyle. What can he do without a head?
    Lister: Apart from being you, hardly anything
  • [The crew discusses a plan to remove Lister’s arm to save his life.]
    Lister: Can you explain it to me? Something a bit more confidence-stirring than “Can I hack off your limb?”
    Kryten: The plan is to inject antivirals in a precise pattern through your body, forcing epideme into your arm.
    Lister: And then you cut it off. Great plan. What choice have I got?… Okay, but make it my left arm, okay. ‘Cause my right arm does all my favourite things.
  • Kryten: I take it we’re speaking with the Epideme virus?
    Epideme: Give that man an eyebrow! Hey, I’m feeling generous — give him two!
  • Lister: You absorb knowledge from every person you kill?
    Epideme: So you can appreciate killing you ain’t exactly a career highlight. No offence, but when you’re a virus, there ain’t much call for knowing how to open a lager bottle with your anus.
  • Lister wakes up afer the crew cut off his arm to discover that is right arm has been cut off
  • Kochanski: Hi. I’m so sorry.
    Lister: My left arm I said. Thats my right. What kind of Navigation Officer can’t tell left from right?
  • Kryten and Cat enter
  • Kryten: Sir, you’re awake!
    Cat: Buddy, you look great! (Puts out hand to shake Lister’s before realising he put his right hand out)
  • Kochanski: (Disgusted by all the corpses on the Leviathan) I’ve never seen anything like this!
    Lister: You weren’t around for my last party, were ya?
  • Lister: But does it change anything?
    Kochanski: Listen, having only one arm will make no difference to any woman that cares about you.
    Lister: What about sex?
    Kochanski: Not here, it’s too sandy.
  • Cat: Forget Red — let’s go all the way up to Brown Alert!
    Kryten: There’s no such thing as a Brown Alert, sir.
    Cat: You won’t be saying that in a minute! And don’t say I didn’t alert you!
  • [after Starbug lodges itself in the back end of a super enlarged rat on the nanobot rebuilt Red Dwarf]
    Holly: Hope we don’t get stopped by the cops, they don’t like it when you’re rat arsed.
  • Lister: Hey guys, look at me body.
    Cat: Now there is an invitation that will NOT cause a stampede.
  • Captain Hollister: Rimmer, is this salute ever going to end? Do I have time to go for a cup of coffee? Maybe go on vacation?
    Rimmer: Nearly finished, sir. This is my very special extra long salute I reserve for the especially important, sir.
  • Rimmer: One day in this lousy, stinking penal colony and I’m cracking up. Everyone’s so deranged and brutal, it’s frightening. This afternoon I was so depressed I went to see the social worker.
    Lister: Was he any help?
    Rimmer: Not really; he beat me up. He said I was a whining nancy-boy with girlie white legs, then pummelled me repeatedly with his book, Showing Compassion to Inmates.
    Lister: I thought social workers were supposed to be nice?
    Rimmer: In the end I was so shell-shocked I went to see the priest and explained everything.
    Lister: What did he say?
    Rimmer: He said I was a whining baby who was missing his mum. Then he beat me up, too. You can still see the crucifix marks in the back of my head.
  • Captain Hollister: I also suspect that someone, possibly Lister, has given Rimmer access to the crew’s confidential files, and he’s using this information to blackmail his way up the chain of command. It’s sickening. It’s unforgivable. But it’s a technique that can work. I should know; I used the same method myself to become captain. If the crew discover I’m really just Dennis the Doughnut Boy, I’m finished.
  • Lister: Have you figured a way to get us out of here, Hol?
    Holly: I have actually, Dave. I’ve devoted all my run-time to looking for a loop-hole in the prison regs. I think I’ve come up with something that means you can serve your entire two-year sentence in just fourteen weeks.
    Lister: Ah, Brilliant! What have I got to do?
    Holly: Become a dog.
  • Lister [about their two-year prison sentence]: It’s only two years; what, with good behaviour, it’ll probably only be eighteen months. Remember when you were first born, then you were eighteen months? The time just flashed past!
    Rimmer: It flashed past because you had two breasts big as your head at your beck and call day and night! Give me that now and I wouldn’t be whinging.
  • [Lister has signed up for the Canaries]
    Lister: What have I signed up for?
    Rimmer: In the 19th century, when miners went down a pit: they’d lower a canary down first, in a little cage. […] And if the atmosphere was noxious, as it frequently was, guess what the canary did?
    Lister: Complained to the Foreman?
    Rimmer: It died, Listy! The canary’s job was to go into the most dangerous, unpleasant and most smeggy situations and see if it could stay alive. Then they’d know if it was safe to send in the important people. […] How come you’ve never heard of the canaries? They’ve got recruitment posters all over the men’s bogs! How come you’ve not seen them?
    Lister: When I’m in the men’s toilets in prison, Rimmer, I tend not to look around; d’yknow what I’m saying? It’s like playing Golf; I concentrate on my grip, keep my eye on the ball and try not to veer off to the side!
  • Rimmer: The Canaries! You know what they say it’s supposed to stand for? Convict Army, Nearly All Retarded Inbred Evil Sheepshaggers! They haven’t got an X chromasone to share between them!
    Lister: Smeg. It gets worse as well.
    Rimmer: (Laughing) Worse! Go on!
    Lister: I’ve signed you up too.
  • Captain Hollster: [Breifing the Canaries] We’ve located a ship, the SS Silverberg, buried at the bottom of an ocean moon. A remote probe has come back with no signs of a crew; no bodily remains, no skeletons, zip. we want you guys to go on board and find out why. […] It’s inconcievable a ship like this could be sent out without a crew. So whatever devoured the crew, bones and all, might still be there so… be careful.
  • Cassandra: All the Canaries will be dead within one hour, except for Rimmer —
    Rimmer: YES! [punches the air]
    Cassandra: — who will be dead in twenty minutes.
  • Lister: If the future is all worked out, horoscopes all that stuff . . . It means we’re not responsible for any thing we do. It means we’re just actors sayings lines in a script written by somebody else. I don’t want to believe that. I want to believe I’m in charge of me own life. Me own destiny.
  • [Rimmer is reading a letter to Lister from Peterson]]
    Rimmer: My God that is tragic.
    Lister: Why, what’s happened to him? Has he died?
    Rimmer: Died?? You’d think he’d write and tell you?
    Lister: No, your right man, i’m not thinking straight. He’d be to busy organising his funeral wouldn’t he.
    Rimmer: he’s found you’re guitar in Starbug’s wreakage and is sending it over.
    Lister: Brilliant!
    [Rimmer is looking stressed]
    Lister: You OK?
    Rimmer: Of cause i’m not OK. I hate your guitar. If I wanted to share a cell with an irritating lump of wood, i’d have moved in with an Australian soap star
  • [Lister and Rimmer plan to leave after seeing Krytie TV’s “Ladies Shower Night,” fearing it could damage their appeal]
    Rimmer: I want no part of this.
    Lister: Me neither.
    Rimmer: We’ve gotta go.
    Lister: Right now.
    Rimmer: Not a minute to lose.
    Lister: I’m dust.
    Rimmer: Me too. After two. One, two, go!
    [They still sit there, moving their heads sideways, while watching the feature.]
  • Kryten: First, we sabotage the date.
    Lister: What, “we”? You mean you’re gonna help me?
    Kryten: Step on board the “love express,” sir! Now, we get to his quarters through the air vents; I’ve paid off the guards. Then you make him look like the nerdiest slob in the entire universe. This is what you leave in his quarters. A half-eaten onion sandwich. That’s always a passion-killer.
    Lister: Is it? I like those.
    Kryten: Then there’s this: “Morris Dancer Monthly.” What a total dweebo nerdmeister he’ll look with those!
    Rimmer: They’re mine!
    Kryten: And then there’s these: tragically unfashionable underpants.
    Rimmer: [exasperated] They’re mine!
    Kryten: And finally: Christian rock music. It that doesn’t scare her off, nothing will.
    Rimmer: Have you been going through my things?
  • Lister: I was trying to get a sick note, but the doc thought I was faking and didn’t accept it was possible to get athlete’s hand.
  • Lister: Hol: need some advice, mate. We’ve been cornered by a T-Rex that was formerly a sparrow, and the only thing that can turn it back into Woody Woodpecker is in its stomach. What’s your take on the situation?
    Holly: What do you want — the long or the short version?
    Lister: Oh. Long.
    Holly: You’re finished.
    Cat: What’s the short version?
    Holly: Bye.
  • Both Birdman and Pete have been restored to their former selves
    Rimmer: Now, destroy the time wand.
    Lister: This machine’s priceless!
    Rimmer: Destroy it.
    [Lister destroys the time wand. Moments later, a giant dinosaur egg is discovered behind a corner.]
    Lister: Wh-what do we do now??
    Rimmer: Now…rebuild…the time wand! It’s absolutely priceless!
  • Death: Arnold Judas Rimmer, your life is over. Come with me. You will travel to the River Styx, where you will place a coin and —
    Rimmer: Not today, matey. [knees Death in the groin] Remember, only the good die young.
    Death: [gasping] That’s never happened to me before.
  • Rimmer: Why don’t you smegging well smeg off, you annoying little smeggy smegging smegger?
  • Rimmer is trying to identify a chemical in the mirror universe
  • Rimmer: Can you tell me what this is?
    Mirror Cat: (smells it) It’s an alkali.
    Rimmer: Oh yes, what’s it called?
    Mirror Cat: Cesiumfrancolithicmyxialobidiumrixidixidoxidexidroxhide. You look surprised?
    Rimmer: I never thought I’d ever hear you say that. Can you write it down for me?
    Mirror Cat: Certainly. (To Mirror Kochanski) Could I have an extremely long piece of paper, my dear?
  • Cat: I’m walking through the cargo deck, right? Minding my own damn business. When all of a sudden, you know that big tank on G deck?
    Lister: He means the water tank.
    Cat: Suddenly there is a disturbance on the surface of the tank and this massive testicle shoots out of the water and grabs me by the throat.
    Lister: He means tentacle.
    Rimmer: I hope so.
  • Lister: You were supposed to be manning the sonar, Rimmer! You could have gotten us all killed!
    Rimmer: Is this about you again? It is, isn’t it? Can’t you see right now I need some me time? My heart is still hammering. I don’t know how I got through that.
    Lister: You wasn’t even there!
    Rimmer: I was nearly there. That’s close enough for me.
  • Katerina: Something is not right! It’s saying we don’t exist! How can this be possible? “Taking to nearest valid reality”. Makes no sense at all.
  • Katerina: You think you outsmart me, yes? But you don’t, I here. Cut a second hole.
    Rimmer: Science officer, excellent. So pleased you’ve caught up with us.
    Katerina: You gave me slip, I know. You not want to be erased. But you won’t defeat me, I too smart.
    Rimmer: Erase me? I thought it was murder to kill a hologram.
    Katerina: No, hologram already dead. Morally, ethically, hologram killing fine!
    Rimmer: Fair enough. [Rimmer suddenly pushes her into oncoming traffic, and her image shorts out] Come on, we haven’t got all day.
    Kryten: She didn’t see that coming, did she? I did.
  • Lister: (About Craig Charles, his actor) I’m so glad I’m not him. The guy’s a wreck. And pretending to be someone else all day, that’s no way to make a living. Smeghead.
  • Cat: Whats going to happen to everybody in the reality we left? The guys all watching us on T.V?
    Kryten: Well, they will continue to exist as a consequence of us creating them in our hallucination, sir. Its quantum mechanics, every decision that is made creates a new universe, as do all dreams and hallucinations, its multi-verse 1.0.1.
    Rimmer: But those sad suckers will live out the rest of their lives convinced they’re the real ones and we are characters from a T.V show.
    Lister: And you know if you tell them the truth, you know what they would probably do?
    Rimmer: Laugh.
    Lister: Yeah. [They all snigger] They probably would.
  • Lister: No the moose aren’t in the cars, antlers out the sun roof! They’re in the roads, mooseing about, crossing roads, causing accidents!
    Cat: You mean they’re not looking left and right?
    Lister: Exactly.
    Cat: Not using the pedestrian crossings?
    Lister: Exactly!
    Cat: Not paying attention as to whether it’s a little green man or a little red man? Of course they’re not, they’re mooses!! Jeez… Swedes: they expect too much!
  • Rimmer: Kryten, you have a real gift. You make things that are really, really complicated sound really, really complicated.
  • Rimmer: Are you saying I am a resentful person? I really resent that!
  • Howard: And you rebuilt him – gave him something to live for.
    Rimmer: No, we just hosed him down and gave him a hat.
  • Rimmer: [upon reading the results of his latest Astro Navigation exam and fully expecting to fail] CAN YOU NEVER EVER SUCCEED AT ANYTHING, YOU USELESS RANCID CANCEROUS SACK OF SICK?!
  • Rimmer: [explaining a lateral thinking question.] ‘It’s 1971, a Swedish man crashes into a tree, what causes the accident?’ There’s nothing medical, nothing wrong with the car.
    Lister: [deadpan.] Riiiight, so, um, this Swedish guy drives into a tree, what caused the accident…. Answer’s in the back, right?
    Rimmer: Right.
    Lister: [milking it.] Well… That’s a really hard one, that. I mean, probably gotta be pretty damn smart to get a question like that right. You know what, I’m gonna go for a moose.
    Rimmer: A moose?! [scoffs.]
    Lister: Yeah, it was in the road, he swerved to avoid the moose.
    Rimmer: [checking.] Are you insane? That’s never gonna be – it’s a moose.
    Lister: [wandering out.] Sometimes life is good.
    Kryten: Ah, sir, you asked me to remind you, it’s ten minutes til your exam-
    Rimmer: Kryten, lateral thinking question, just got it myself. It’s 1971, a Swedish man drives into a tree, what causes the accident?
    Kryten: Well, it’s a moose, sir, he swerves and hits a tree.
    Rimmer: Is it me? How did you get that?
    Cat: Get what?
    Rimmmer: I’ve got something for you. A lateral thinking question.
    Cat: A lottery what?
    Rimmer: Ahhh, I knew I could rely on you. What caused this accident?
    Cat: [alert.] What accident?
    Rimmer: No, no. It’s a question, alright? Are you ready? It’s 1971, a man-
    Cat: Was he Swedish?
    Rimmer: … Yes?
    Cat: A moose! [Rimmer sags in resignation.] It was a moose! He swerved to avoid it, and hit a tree! Oh, and the moose is on the road, by the way – not in the car driving. Oww! Yea-ah! [dances out of the room.] Oww! Yea-ah!
  • Lister: Who needs a denti-bot anyway, man? Half a bottle of GELF hooch, can’t feel a thing now… anywhere, starting to get worried actually.
  • Rimmer: So now we don’t have that conversation and move straight onto the next conversation?
    Pree: Your next conversation is a conversation about not having the previous conversation, saying you were looking forward to the previous conversation, and now feel a bit lost not having had that conversation. You conclude that you will probably get used to hearing the results of your conversations and no longer having the conversations yourselves.
  • Lister Jr: What the smeg?
    Lister Sr: Don’t swear!
  • Pree: I watched them all yesterday and you did not enjoy them.
  • Rimmer You knew that I was going to cock this up, so you cocked it up for me?
  • Rimmer: That’s not a man, that’s Lister!
  • Pree: Mindful of the Space Pollution Act, JMC policy dictates the ship should dispose of itself by flying straight into the nearest sun.
    Cat: What?!
    Kryten: What about us?
    Rimmer: Never mind “us”, what about ME?
  • Rimmer: He’s got a skullet.
    Lister: A skull what?
    Rimmer: A bald mullet. A skullet. Bald at the front, mullet at the back. You wouldn’t want to go out in public with this guy.
  • Cat: With just an Allen key and a Phillips screwdriver, assembly should take less than three hours.
    Rimmer: That’s Swedish for a week.
  • Erin: Ha-ha! I lived in the land of Albion for ten full cycles of the moon, but I fled after my family were dragged screaming from my home to a mighty wicker tower, where they were sacrificed to the three gods: Toutatis, Esus and Taranis. First they were garrotted to death, then they were burnt to death, then they were drowned to death. Three deaths to appease the three gods. Then the druids drank their blood and ate their meat and said the harvest would be bountiful.
    Lister: Right. Have you got any lemons?
  • Lister: We’ve walked 4,000 miles.
    Erin: How many do you want?
    Rimmer: Eight.
    Erin: Eight?! You walked across half the known world for eight lemons?
    Rimmer: You’re right, that’s absolutely insane. Make it ten.
  • Rimmer: You’re him off the Bible, aren’t you?
  • Jesus: The only escape from our enemies is to turn and love them!
    Rimmer: Or run. Running’s good too!
  • Jesus: It’s as if I’ve smoked some bark from an acacia tree. Bad bark! Well bad bark!
  • Kryten: Mr. Jesus? He hath risen!
  • Jesus: I’m looking for my uncle. Hast thou seen him?
    Erin: No.
    Jesus: If thou seest him, tell him that I will be in the tavern, drinking wine in great plenty until my legs do the dance of a newly-born camel! And then my mind will turn to dark, vile thoughts and I’ll start coveting my neighbour’s oxen!!
    Erin: That’s breaking the Tenth Commandment, that is.
    Jesus: [giggles] And if there’s time, I might even covet his donkey! And when I’ve finished coveting things, I might make a small statue out of wood and- and- and idolise it a bit!
    Erin: You’ve got to watch yourself. God is a jealous God. You do that and he won’t just get you, you know. According to the Second Commandment, he’ll wipe out all your descendants.
    Jesus: Isn’t that breaking the Sixth Commandment? ‘Thou shalt not kill?’
    Erin: It’s not killing, it’s genocide. I think that’s okay.
  • Lister: What about Christmas? We’ve killed Wallace and Gromit!
  • Lister: Look, so some stupid people did some stupid things in your name. It’s not your fault. You make a lot of people happy. I mean, look at me: I presumed that throughout history, all famous people were amazing. And then I met you! And I realised they’re not. In fact you’re a bit of a knob. Just like me. Which means that I’m okay.
    Jesus: Yeah, I don’t wanna be me. I don’t wanna walk down the street and have people say ‘ooh, look there’s the Jesus of Caesarea, the guy who caused all the wars!’
    Rimmer: Jesus of Caesarea? You mean Jesus of Nazareth.
    Jesus: [incredulous] Jesus of Caesarea? Son of Rachel the Fornicator, Samuel the Chicken Stealer.
    Lister: Samuel the Chicken Stealer?
    Jesus: He stole them, not me. Take it up with him. I’m always having to leg it because of him.
    Rimmer: Erm, is Jesus quite a popular name around here?
    Jesus: Yeah, there’s a few of us. There’s Jesus, son of John with a funny nose…. Jesus, son of Luke, he wraps plant leaves around the feet of horses, about 70 of us at the last census.
    [The Dwarfers look utterly defeated]
    Jesus: Does this mean I’m not the son of God?
    [Lister nods]
    Jesus: Oh, bugger.
  • Rimmer: What’s that smell? Has there been a fire in here?
    Lister: Just a small one. I put it out with me beer.
    Rimmer: For goodness sake, Lister, that’s terrible!
    Lister: Don’t panic, I’ve got another one.
  • Rimmer: Lister, we have health and safety protocols for a reason: to safeguard the crew.
    Lister: What crew? The original crew? They all got wiped out remember?
    Rimmer: Exactly.
    Lister: By you.
    Rimmer: …Exactly!
    Lister: When you didn’t fix that drive plate properly, and that radiation leak fried them to a crisp.
    Rimmer: ……Exactly!
  • Kryten: You’re up late, sir.
    Cat: Been hunting. Trying to swat this damned space weevil. Little sucker keeps outsmarting me.
    Kryten: Well they do have an IQ of two, sir.
  • Cat: I’m not here to help. Read my CV. “Does not help. Does not clean. Will have sex with anything.”
  • Kryten: He’s speaking “choking to death”, sir. It is very hard to translate if you are not being strangled.
  • Lister: (After cutting off Cat’s ponytail) Stage one achieved. What do we do now?
  • Kryten: (Discussing the Erroneous Reasoning Research Academy) The staff were handpicked for their ability to be mistaken; for their gifts in fallacious analysis and defective reasoning.
    Cat: (To Rimmer) You could’ve excelled here.
    Kryten: They were all outstandingly good at being consistently incorrect. There were a lot of referees, TV critics, weathermen, who were then re-educated in the sciences, to develop extraordinary new, erroneous theories, that would combine together to produce works of great genius.
    Cat: Did it work?
    Kryten: No. The whole idea turned out to be wrong. The man behind the idea was so depressed he attempted suicide. Naturally he failed, and he went on to live into his nineties
  • Kryren: They say, due to the number of these letters of recommendation, they have absolutely no option but to request you stop writing them.
  • Rimmer: Women have moved on from that move.
    Lister: Moves don’t move on.
    Rimmer: Moves move on!
    Lister: What, moves move?
  • Rimmer (after Lister wheels away his chair into the rear wall): Right, abusing the furniture. It’s all going down [into his report book].
  • Lister: So, let me get this right. We’re being attacked by something but we don’t know what, and there’s no way of finding out what’s out there?
    Kryten: I have a suggestion, sirs.
    Rimmer: What?
    Kryten: How about we look out of the window?
  • Lister: I’d hardly call yelling “Mummy, mummy,” dignified.
    Rimmer: Lister, I didn’t yell “mummy, mummy”.
    Lister: No you didn’t have time, you just yelled “Mu…”.
    Kryten’ Please sirs, this is very bad for morale. I can’t believe you’re arguing about who’s going to have the best death!
  • Rimmer Sr: Arnold, I’m not your father.
    Rimmer: But that’s impossible. It’s not true.
    Rimmer Sr: Look inside yourself and you will know I speak the truth. Your father wasn’t me, it’s Dungo, our gardener.
    Rimmer: But he’s a babbling imbecile.
    Lister: A billion-piece jigsaw suddenly falls into beautiful place.
  • Rimmer: We have nothing to fear but fear itself. Apart from pain. And maybe humiliation and obviously death. And failure. But apart from fear, pain and humiliation, failure and the unknown and death we have nothing to fear but fear itself. Who’s with me?
  • Dominator Zlurth: It is the way of all things. You live, you die.
    Rimmer: But sometimes you live, you die, and then you live again. I know, I’ve done it myself.
  • Hogey the Roguey: (Repeated line in a cheesy Italian accent) You kills my brother!
  • “Don’t give me any of that ‘Star Trek’ crap. It’s too early in the morning.”
  • “Boarding this vessel is an act of war. Ergo we surrender.”
  • “All in all, 100% successful trip.”
    “But sir, we lost Mr Rimmer.”
    “All in all, 100% successful trip.”
  • “Come on bud, you’re not doing anything I wouldn’t do!”
  • “What? You’d sacrifice your life for the sake of the crew?”
    “No, I’d sacrifice your life for the sake of the crew.”
  • “I owe Mr.Lister everything sir, if it wasn’t for him, I’d be normal.”
  • “Frankenstein was the creator, not the monster. It’s a common misconception, held by all truly stupid people.”
  • “Love is what separates us from animals ” “No, Lister. What separates us from animals is that we don’t use our tongues to clean our own genitals.”
  • “Last time I only failed by the narrowest of narrow margins.”
    “You what? You walked in there, wrote, “I am a fish,” four hundred times, did a funny little dance, and fainted.”
  • “The water is only 3 feet deep. They can wade. That’s why the animals are gonna have to be quite tall.”
    “Nice plan, Lister. Excellent plan! Brilliant plan, Lister! What about the sheep? What are you going to do, buy them water-wings? Fit them with stilts? Better still, you could cross-breed them with dolphins and have leaping mutton. Baa, splash, baa, splash.”
  • “What’s it feel like?” “Death? It’s like being on holiday with a group of Germans.”
  • “My answer in answering the question: “What does the red spectrum tell us about quasars?” Write bigger. There are various words that need to be defined: what is a spectrum, what is a red one, why is it red, and why is it so frequently linked with quasars? What the hell is a quasar?”
  • I’m not a god, I was misquoted.
  • “After intensive investigation (comma) of the markings on the alien pod (comma) it has become clear (comma) to me (comma) that we are dealing (comma) with a species of awesome intellect (colon).”
    “Good. Perhaps they might be able to give you a hand with your punctuation.”
  • “Emergency. Emergency. There’s an emergency going on. It’s still going on. It’s still an emergency. This is an emergency announcement.”
  • “Stranger things have happened.”
    “Only two come to mind: the spontaneous combustion of the mayor of Warsaw in 1687, and that time in 16th century Bordeaux when it rained herring.”
  • “Busy, Dave?”
    “Well, yeah. I am, actually.”
    “Oh, then you won’t want to know about the two super-light-speed fighters that are tracking us.”
    “I’ll leave you to your bubble blowing, mate.”
    “No, Hol, come on, come on.”
    “They’re from Earth.”
    “Three million years away?”
    “They’re from the NorWEB federation.”
    “What’s that?”
    “The North Western Electricity Board. They want you, Dave.”
    “Me? Why? What for?”
    “For your crimes against humanity.”
    “You what!”
    “It seems when you left Earth three million years ago, you left two half-eaten German sausages on a plate in your kitchen.”
    “Did I?”
    “You know what happens to sausages left unattended for three million years?”
    “Yeah. They go all mouldy.”
    “Your sausages, Dave, now cover seven-eighths of the Earth’s surface. Also you left seventeen pounds, fifty pence in a bank account. Thanks to compound interest you now own ninety-eight percent of all the world’s wealth, but since you’ve hoarded it for three million years nobody’s got any money except for you and NorWEB.”
    “Why NorWEB? “
    “You left a light on in the bathroom. I’ve got a final demand here for one hundred and eighty billion pounds.”
    “A hundred and eighty billion pounds! You’re kidding!”
    “April fool.”
    “But it’s not April.”
    “Yeah, I know, but I could hardly wait six months with a red-hot jape like that under my belt.”
  • “Come on, what are you, a man or a munchkin?”
    “I’m off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz.”
  • “As the days go by, we face the increasing inevitability that we are alone in a godless, uninhabited, hostile and meaningless universe. Still, you’ve got to laugh, haven’t you?”
  • So great is the appeal of “Better Than Life” when one store in New Tokyo ran out of stocks rubber nuclear weapons had to be deployed to disperse the crowd.
  • Philistines. I mean how can you re-make Cassablanca? The one starring Myra Dinglebat and Peter Beardsley was definitive.
  • It happens, you know, Rimmer. You meet people, then you move on, man. When I was ten, I had a friend called Duncan. Me best mate ever. He taught me everything. He was the one who showed me how to put mirrors on me toecaps so I could look up girl’s skirts. Then his father had to move to Spain because of a job. It was a bank job he pulled in Purley. Never saw him again. I still think of him, though… every time I look at me shoes.
  • Don’t try and explain it, Lister. I don’t know why I’m even surprised. Everyone always leaves me in the end. Girls, parents… I had a pet lemming once. I loved that little lemming. I built him a little wall so he could hurl himself over it. He didn’t want for anything. I’ll never forget one Christmas I put my finger in his cage to give him some mince pie. He bit me! He sunk his teeth right into my fingers and wouldn’t let go. In the end I had to smash his brains out against the wall. That little lemming broke my heart. The little git completely ruined my helicopter wallpaper.
  • Welcome to Xpress Lifts, descent to floor sixteen. You will be going down two thousand, five hundred and sixty-seven floors and, for a small extra charge, you can enjoy the in-lift movie “Gone With the Wind”. If you look to your right and to your left, you will notice there are no exits. In the highly unlikely event of the lift having to make a crash-landing, death is certain. Under your seats you will find a cassette for recording your last-minute testament, and from above your head a bag will drop containing sedatives and cyanide capsules.
  • Well, when it’s not serious when your genitals can go wandering off on their own, I wonder what is?
  • I had this Geography teacher, Miss Foster. She took us on a school summer camp trip to Deganwy. I had the tent next to hers, right. And in the middle of the night I was woken up by this really weird noise. She didn’t think men were better than machines.
  • Our biggest enemy is going space crazy through loneliness. The only thing that helps me maintain my slender grip on reality is the friendship I share with my collection of singing potatoes.
  • “Look at what he’s given me for dinner: a pea on toast. One pea. I tell you, I’m that far from cracking. [goes to squish the pea; it snaps away] I’ve lost my pea! Oh, that’s it! I’ve cracked.”
    “He’s just doing this to destroy your morale.””Is he? Well, I want my pea back. It’s my pea. I earned that pea. Where is it? I don’t care if it’s on the floor all covered in fluff, if it’s under the bed with my toenail clippings, I don’t care where it is — it’s my pea, I earned it, and I’m going to eat it no matter what!
  • “It flew off into your dirty-sock basket.”
  • “I’ll just have the toast”
  •  “Lister? How did you know about Inflatable Ingrid?””I’ve been seeing her behind your back.”
  • “This is crazy! Why are we talking about going to bed with Wilma Flintstone….she’ll never leave Fred and we know it. “
  • R: “But that was a barroom brawl, that was a common pub fight,a shambolic drunken set-to.”
    L: “…which you started. “
    R: “I just made an innocuous comment. I merely voiced the rumour that McWilliams was sexually tilted in favour of sleeping with the dead. I didn’t start the rumour; I merely voiced it.”
    L: “…to his face — right to his face…when he was with his four biggest mates. And then you do your roadrunner act and leave *ME* to face the music.
    R: “Well, I could have got hurt!”
    L: “You’d have made a brilliant general, wouldn’t you?”
  • As far as I can see it, we have two options: One, we take it on and kill it; or Two, run away. Who’s for Two?
  • You either got it or you ain’t. Boys, you ain’t even close.
  • Look, just because it’s an armour-plated alien killing machine that salivates unspeakable slobber, doesn’t mean it’s a bad person. What we’ve got to do is get it round a table, and put together a solution package : perhaps over tea and biscuits.
  • Why don’t we go down to the ammunition stores, get the nuclear warheads and then strap one to my head? I’ll nut the smegger to oblivion!
  • I think we’re all beginning to lose sight of the real issue here, which is: what are we going to call ourselves? I think it comes down to a choice between “The League Against Salivating Monsters” or, my own personal preference, which is “The Committee for the Liberation and Integration of Terrifying Organisms and their Rehabilitation Into Society.” One drawback with that–the abbreviation is CLITORIS.
  • “I just got sick and tired of using plastic knives and forks, man, so I went to the medical unit and nicked some gear.”
    “This is a scalpel! I’m supposed to cut *my* food with a scalpel? Something that has been inside someone’s guts?
  • “It’s all been cleaned; it’s all been washed; it’s clean.”
  • “Something that, long ago in history, may well have performed a certain popular Jewish operation? *I’m* supposed to eat with *this* ?”
  • “So now Lister’s got no sense of fear…”
    “What are we going to do?”
    “Well, I say let’s get out there and twat it!”
    “Lister, you’re ill. Just relax and leave this to us.”
    “I could have had it in the sleeping quarters, but you saw it : you saw it — it took me by surprise.”
    “Lister, it turned into an eight-foot-tall, armour-plated alien killing machine.”
    “If it wants a barney, we’ll give it one! One swift knee in the happy sacks; it’ll drop like anyone else!”
    “Fine, well, we’ll bear that in mind when we’re planning our strategy.”
    “I’m gonna rip out its windpipe and beat it death with the tonsil end.”
    “Yes, yes, very good…”
  • “I am really not sure about this. [as he pushes a trolley with Lister on it down a corridor]””Look, you’re programmed to obey – get on with it.”
    “But surely we should ask him first?”
    “I told you, he’s agreed. He’s perfectly happy about the situation.”
    “Well then why did you make me chloroform him and why did he struggle so?”
    “Look, I’m in charge Kryten, I’ll take full responsibility.”
    “Oh! But sir…”
    “Science lab, pronto. And If he comes around give him another whack. “
  • “We could go to Dallas in November, 1963, stand on the grassy knoll and shout “Duck!” … I’m sorry; I must have bypassed my Good Taste Chip.”
  • Pub: ah, yes, a meeting place where people attempt to reach advanced states of mental incompetence by the repeated consumption of fermented vegetable drinks.
  • “You know, I stand here now and I look at the two of us, and I ask one simple question: Who is the rich man? You, with your fifty-eight houses, your private island in the Bahamas, your multi-billion pound business empire; or me, with . . . with . . . with what, I’ve got . . . it’s you isn’t it?”
  • It’s my duty, as a total and utter bastard
  • Kryten, unpack Rachel and get out the puncture repair kit. I’m ALIVE!!!!
  • “There’s nothing wrong with boxing. It’s one of the great working class escapes, is boxing. It’s just sport, like any other. Two highly trained athletes at the peak of physical perfection, trying to outwit each other in a ring of combat. In fact, at its best, it’s not a sport, it’s an artform.”
    “Female topless boxing?”
  • “Just out of interest: Is Silicon Heaven the same place as human Heaven?”
    “Human heaven? Goodness me, humans don’t go to Heaven! No, someone made that up to prevent you all from going nuts!”
  • “I used to be in the Samaritans.”
    “I know. For one morning.”
    “I couldn’t take any more.”
    “I don’t blame you. You spoke to five people, and they all committed suicide. I wouldn’t mind, but one was a wrong number! He only phoned up for the cricket scores!”
    “Well, it’s hardly my fault that everyone chose that morning to throw themselves off buildings! Made the papers, you know. ‘Lemming Sunday’, they called it.”
  • If we’re talking about famous firsts – my first French kiss. It’s gotta be a killer story. Fourteen years old. We went on holiday with my Uncle Frank and his daughters. Sixteen. Twins. Blonde. Now I knew that Sarah fancied me, but I wasn’t too sure about Alice. Anyway, middle of the night, I wake up with this tongue stuck down my throat. Wide awake now — I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Uncle Frank! He’d got the wrong room – he thought I was my mum!
  • “Why didn’t you have a mum?”
    “I was abandoned.”
    “Six weeks old. A cardboad box underneath the pool table. I was just abandoned in this pub.”
    “How could anybody do that?”
    “I don’t know. I never found out.”
    “Well, I’d have thought it was obvious. Two people, unable to contain their desires, had an illicit liason. A liaison that an unforgiving society would not accept. And you were the fruit of their forbidden passion. You’re forbidden passion fruit.”
    “What are you saying?”
    “I’m saying, Lister, that there’s a very real possibility that your parents were brother and sister.”
    “Hey, I’m baring my innermost here! What kind of remark is that?”
    “How many toes have you got?”
  • “Is it just me, or is that cockroach shuffling too loudly?”
    “Kryten, it’s called a hangover. Don’t panic.”
    “On a mining ship, 3 million years into deep space, can someone explain to me where the smeg I got this traffic cone?”
  • “Oh, I think you’re perfectly charming.” “(Astounded) Do you? Well, thank you. No-one’s ever said I was charming before. They’ve said, “Rimmer, you’re a total git.” But never charming, no.”
  • “Hey. The prospect of making love to a complete and total stranger is just as galling to me, y’know? We gotta be completely professional about this. Totally clinical and unemotional. So just lie back, relax and I’ll go and slip into my Spiderman costume.”
    “And they say romance is dead. “
    – Lister & Camille
    It’s the old, old story: Droid meets Droid, Droid becomes Chameleon, Droid loses Chameleon, Chameleon turns into Blob, Droid gets Blob back again, Blob meets Blob, Blob goes off with Blob, and Droid loses Blob, Chameleon, and Droid. How many times have we seen that story?
  • ( Kryten has been changed from a mechanoid to a human, and is discussing it with Lister )
    L: Any problems?
    K: Well, just one or two. In fact I’ve compiled a little list if you’ll indulge me. Now then, uh, my optical system doesn’t appear to have a zoom function.
    L: No, human eyes don’t have a zoom.
    K: Well then, how do you bring a small object into sharp focus?
    L: Well, you just move your head closer to the object.
    K: I see. Move your head … closer, hmm, to the object. All right, okay. Well, what about other optical effects, like split screen, slow motion ?
    L: No. We don’t have them.
    K: You don’t have them — just the zoom? Hmm. Well, no, that’s fine, that’s great, no, no, that’s really great, that’s great. Now then, my nipples don’t work.
    L: Er, in what way `don’t work’?
    K: Well, uh, when I was a mechanoid, the right nipple-nut was used to, uh, regulate body temperature, while the left nipple-nut was used mainly to, uh, pick up shortwave radio transmissions. Now, what I’m saying is, no matter how hard I twiddle it, I can’t seem to pick up Jazz FM.
    L: Human nipples don’t do that, Kryten.
    K: I see. Fine. Ah: recharging. Now, I presume that, uh, when a human wants to recharge they do it much the same way mechanoids do. Indeed, I have located what I presume to be the recharging socket, but for some strange reason it doesn’t appear to have the standard three-pin adaptor. Now, do I have to use some kind of special adaptor? because, no matter what do, the lead just keeps falling out.
    L: Kryten, we eat and sleep: that’s our way of recharging.
    K: Hmm. Ah yes, now, I wanted to talk to you about something. Something about, um, well, something I know we humans get a little embarrassed about. It’s a bit of a taboo subject – not the sort of thing we like to sit around and chat about in polite conversation.
    L: Kryten, I’m an enlightened twenty-third century guy. Spit it out, man.
    K: Well, I want to talk to you about my penis. I knew it, you’ve gone straight into smirk mode. Aren’t we both two human adults? Can’t we discuss our reproductive system without adolescent sniggering?
    L: Yeah, of course we can.
    K: Thank you. [hands Lister polaroid] Well?
    L: `Well’ what?
    K: Well, what do you think?
    L: I’m not quite with you here, Kryten. What am I supposed to say?
    K: I want to know: is that normal?
    L: What? Taking photographs of it and showing it to your mates? No, it’s not!
    K: Well, but is it supposed to look like that?
    L: Well, yeah.
    K: It’s hideous! That’s the best design they could come up with? Are you seriously telling me there were choices, and someone said “Ah, there, that’s it. That’s the shape we’re looking for: The last-chicken-in-the-shop look”? Shakespeare had one? Einstein? Perry Como sang `Memories are Made of This’ with one of those stashed in his slacks?
    L: Well, yeah.
    K: No wonder humans don’t have a zoom mode! Ugh. Now, take a look at this [hands Lister polaroid. Lister rotates it several times, perplexed] and this. [hands Lister second polaroid. Lister holds them side-by-side, then top to bottom. Sudden shock] Now why do you suppose that happened?
    L: Wwwwwhat were you thinking of at the time?
    K: Well, nothing in particular, sir. I was just idly flicking through an electrical-appliance catalogue. I came across the section on super-deluxe vacuum cleaners and suddenly my underpants elastic was catapulted across the medical bay.
    L: You see, man, you’re neither one thing or the other. You shouldn’t be getting erotic thoughts about electrical appliances.
    K: It *was* a triple-bag easy-glide vac with turbo-suction and a self-emptying dustbag.
    L: Kryten, I don’t care what model it was. No vacuum cleaner should give a human being a double polaroid. Do yourself a favour, man, change back.I just don’t trust that machine, man. Look, I know it’s old- fashioned, but I’m from the school that believes, “If God intended us to fly, he wouldn’t have invented Spanish air traffic control”.
  • “Oh, lots of people take towels from hotels. “
    “I took the bed. Winched it out of the window to my mate outside. I was renting this flat. It was unfurnished.”
    “So you went to a hotel and stole the bed? “
    “I stole the entire room, actually. Armchair, dressing-table, carpet. Even the fitted wardrobe. The only thing I didn’t take were the towels. “
  • “The question is: Can we turn him back again?”
    “The question is: Do we want to?”
  • This man is not guilty of manslaughter. He’s only guilty of being Arnold J. Rimmer. That is his crime. It is also his punishment.
  • Convict: No weapons?
    Lister: No weapons. [they advance on the gangway]
    Convict: (pulling out a knife) I lied.
    Lister: So did I. (Smiles as he whips out a steel pipe)
    Convict: (pulls out a gun) I lied twice.
    Lister: (getting worried) I hadn’t thought of that…
  • “Well, Space Corps Directive 195 clearly states that in an emergency power situation, a holo-grammatic crew member must lay down his life in order that the living crew members might survive.”
    “Yes, but Rimmer Directive 271 states just as clearly, “No chance you metal bastard.” “
  • “Look, I don’t want any toast, and he doesn’t want any toast. In fact, no one around here wants any toast. Not now, not ever. No toast!”
    “How ’bout a muffin?”
    “Or muffins! Or muffins! We don’t like muffins around here! We want no muffins, no toast, noteacakes, no buns, baps, baguettes or bagels, no croissants, no crumpets, no pancakes, no potato cakes and no hot-cross buns and definitely no smegging flapjacks!”
    “Aah, so you’re a waffle man!”
  • “He’s defective. He wants everyone to eat toast all of the time. And if you don’t want to eat something like 400 rounds of toast every HOUR, he throws a major wobbler. That’s what caused the accident in the first place. “
    “What accident? “
    “The accident involving me, the toaster, the waste disposal and a 14 pound lump-hammer. “
  • “But there are fifty-three doors between here and the science room! What on Earth are we going to do?”
    “Hey, I got it! We laser our way through!”
    “An excellent suggestion, Sir, with just two minor drawbacks. One, we don’t have a power source for the lasers, and two, we don’t have any lasers.”
  • “Smoke me a kipper, I’ll be back for breakfast.”
  • “Purple alert! Purple alert!”
    “What’s a purple alert?”
    “Well, it’s like not as bad as a red alert, but a bit worse than a blue alert — sort of a mauve alert.”
  • “Rimmer, what’s going on out there? Isn’t that Mahatma Gandhi? And what’s he doing practising hand to hand combat with a nun? “
    “That’s not a nun, Listy, that’s Lieutenant Colonel Mother Theresa. She’s a soldier now. “
  • “Maybe we should drop the defensive shields?”
    “A superlative suggestion sir, with only two drawbacks: one, we don’t have any defensive shields and two, we don’t have any defensive shields. I know that, technically, that’s only one drawback, but it was such a big one I thought I’d mention it twice”
  • “Binks to Enlightenment. Have arrived on the derelict. Confirm initial speculation: there is absolutely nothing of any value or interest here. It’s one of the old Class II ship-to-surface vessels — the very model, in fact, that was withdrawn due to major flight design flaws. Crew: three. One Series 4000 mechanoid, almost burnt out. Give it maybe three years. Nothing of salvageable value. Ah, Felix Sapiens — bred from the domestic house cat, and about half as smart. No value in future study of this species. What have we here? A human being, or a very close approximation. Chronological age: mid-20s. Physical age: 47. Grossly overweight, unnecessarily ugly, otherwise would recommend it for the museum. Apart from that, of no value or interest.”
    “Lister to Red Dwarf. We have in our midst a complete smegpot. Brains in the anal region. Chin absent, presumed missing. Genitalia small and inoffensive. Of no value or interest.”
  • “Binks to Enlightenment. Evidence of primitive humour. The human has knowledge of irony, satire and imitation. With patient tuition could, maybe, master simple tasks.”
  • “Lister to Red Dwarf. Displays evidence of spoiling for a rumble. Seems unable to grasp simple threats. With careful pummelling could, possibly, be sucking tomorrow’s lunch through a straw. “
  • “Binks to Enlightenment. The human is under the delusion that he is somehow able to bestow physical violence to a hologram.”
  • “Lister to Red Dwarf. The intruder seems to be blissfully unaware that we have a rather sturdy holowhip in the munitions cabinet. Unless he wants his derriere minced like burger meat, he’d better be history in two seconds flat. (eats cigarette, removes his jacket) “
  • “Binks to Enlightment. Recon mission complete. Transmit. With speed. Enlightment, quickly, please. “
    “They’ve taken Mr Rimmer! Sir, they’ve taken Mr Rimmer!”
    “Quick! Let’s get out of here before they bring him back!”
  • Rimmer, they’re a bunch of arrogant, pompous, emotionally weird, stuck-up megalomaniacs — do you really think you’ll fit in with them? What am I saying? Bon voyage.
  • Sir, I beg you to reconsider. If not for your sanity, you haven’t even considered the moral implications of your decision. You will be joining a society where you will be compelled to have sex with beautiful, brilliant women, twice daily, on demand. Now, am I really the only one here who finds that just a little bit tacky?…[pause]…apparently I am.
  • “Rimmer, you said that about King of Kings, the story of Jesus! “
    “Well it’s true! A simple carpenter’s son who learns how to do magic tricks like that, and doesn’t go into show business! Do any of us believe that, even for a second? “
    “He was supposed to be the son of god! “
    “And when he was carrying that cross up the hill. Any normal realistic bloke would have mule kicked the guy on the left, clobbered the one on the right, been over that green hill and far away before you could say ‘Pontius Pilate’. “
  • Look, I’m not much good at big speeches, and I know I haven’t always been an easy guy to get on with, and I know, that given the choice, I wouldn’t have chosen you as friends, but I just want to say, that over the years, I have come to regard you as people I met.
  • “This is the Inquisitor. He prunes away the wastrels, expunges the wretched, and deletes the worthless.”
    “We’re in big trouble “
  • “Because, like all who stand before the Inquisitor, you’re judge shall be … yourself.”
    “Oh SMEG.”
  • R: Why did no-one mention this before? If I had been told about this at the start, that the object was to lead a worthwhile life, I could have done something about it. All those charity telethons when I used ring in and pledge donations — if I had known all this, I would have given them /my/ credit card number.
    K: Sir, sir, you don’t have to be a great philanthropist or a missionary worker — you simply have to seize the gift of life…
    R: Oh god.
    K: …make a contribution…
    R: Oh god.
    K: …no matter how small.
    R: Oh god.
    K: You simply have to have led a life that wasn’t totally egocentric, vain and self serving.
    R: You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you!
    K: I’m just trying to make you feel better, sir.
    R: Well, shut up, then!
  • L: “I can’t think straight. I’ve got a tarantula with an eye the size of a meatball setting up home in my joy department. Help me.”
    C: “I’m scared “
    L: “YOU’RE scared? How d’you think I feel? “
    C: “You haven’t SEEN it! “
    L: “The lower half of my body has gone numb.”
    C: “That’s probably for the best. “
  • “OK. I say get into the jet-powered rocket pants and junior-birdman the hell out of here.”
    “An excellent and inventive suggestion, sir, with just two tiny drawbacks: A) We don’t have any jet-powered rocket pants; and B) There’s no such thing as jet-powered rocket pants outside the fictional serial Robbie Rocket Pants.”
    “Well that’s put a crimp an otherwise damn fine plan.”
  • My short term memory has been erased. This I ascribe to the proximity of the magnetic coils from Starbug’s rear engine. Secondly, due to the proximity of the magnetic coils, my short-term memory appears to have been erased. This, combined with the erasure of my short-term memory, has has left me a little disoriented, disoriented, disoriented.
  • There’s an old android saying which I feel is particularly relevant to this situation. It goes: ‘00101010110100101101001111001010101001011011000101010’ which, roughly translated, means ‘Don’t stand around jabbering when your life is in dang…hey, wait for me, you guys!
  • Oops. You’re right. He really isn’t dead. I owe you twenty.
  • Kryten : “…do not blow you nose.”Lister : “Do you mind if I ask, Why?”
    Kryten : “Well, lets forgoe the noise and the revolting burbling sound and get to the really gross part where always, and I mean always, having blown your nose have to open up the handkerchief and take a look at the contents. I mean why? What do you expect to see in there? A Turner seascape perhaps, the face of the Madonna, an undiscovered Shakespearian sonnet?”
  • L: No one’s got any virus, and no one’s smegging nuts!R: Well that’s good… Is something the amiss?
    L: Amiss? God no, what could possibly be amiss?
    R: You don’t think there’s anything amiss? I’m sat here wearing a red and white gingham dress, and army boots, you think that’s un-amiss?
    C: No, course not, it’s just we thought you’d gone nuts. We were trying to humour you.
    R: I was doing a little test, a little test to see if you had gone crazy. if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s crazy people.
    L: Well we’ve passed the test Rimmer, you can let us out.
    R: I can’t let you out.
    L: Why not?
    R: Because the King of the potato people won’t let me. I’ve begged him, I’ve got down on my knees and wept. He wants to keep you here, keep you here for 10 years.
    C: Can we see him?
    R: See who?
    C: The King.
    R: Do you have a magic carpet?
    L: Yeah, a little 3 seater.
    R: So let me get this straight. You want to fly on a magic carpet to see the King of the potato people? And plead with him for your freedom? And you’re telling me you’re completely sane?
  • “Schopenhauer was right, wouldn’t you say? Life without pain has no meaning. Gentlemen, I am here to give your lives… meaning.”
  • “Why do we never meet anyone nice?”
    “Why is it we never meet anyone who can shoot straight?”
  • “Don’t fish swim south for the winter?”
  • “No, that’s birds, sir.”
    “Birds swim south for the winter? How do they breathe?”
  • “Jake Bullet: Cybernautic Detective.” I like that! That sounds like the kind of hard-living flatfoot who gets the job done by cutting corners and bucking authority, and if those pen pushers up at City Hall don’t like it, well, they can park their overpaid fat asses on this mid digit and swivel — swivel ’til they squeal like pigs on a honeymoon!”
    “On the other hand `Mr Bullet’, perhaps the Cybernautics division is in charge of traffic control, and you just happen to have a rather silly macho name.”
    – Kryten discusses his ‘real’ name with Rimmer
    “I drink? and I smoke? and I have cold curried sauce for breakfast? I sound like some barely human grossed out slime ball. “
    “Oh, it’s all flooding back is it sir? “
    “What, I play the Guitar? “
    “Do I have a head shaped like an amusing ice cube? Does my head look like a genetically engineered loo brush?”
    “Is there something good you can tell me about myself? something laudable? “
    “Laudable, em. You sometimes help me with my laundry duties by turning your underpants inside-out and extending the wear time by three weeks.
    “I’m an animal. I’m a tasteless, uncouth, mindless, tone deaf, randy, blokish, semi-literate space bum.”
    “Oh! Welcome back Mr Lister sir.”
    – Kryten fills in an amnesiac Lister
    “Question which occurs, if this ocean is supposed to be teaming with new lifeforms, where are they all?
    “What are you implying Kryten? “
    “No implication intended sir. “
    “Yes there is! You’re saying there’s some huge damn fish out there aren’t you? Some kind of gigantic weird prehistoric Leviathon who’s porked his way through this entire ocean! “
    “That is one option.”
    “Any alternatives? “
    “None that occur.”
    – Kryten & Lister
    “These are our higher selves, they are the people we could have become if all the negative aspects of our characters were removed. “
    “You mean hippies? “
    “With respect sir, do you think Jesus was a hippy? “
    “Well he was! He had long hair, he didn’t have a job, what more do you want?”
  • “What’s that?”
    “Human remains. Wait, angle up five degrees, across ten degrees. There, some kind of writing on the floor, P-S-I-R-E-N-S, Psirens. “
    “The poor devil must have scrawled it in his death throes, using a combination of his own blood, and even his own intestines. “
    “Who would do that? “
    “Someone who badly needed a pen. “
    “What I don’t understand, is why he went to the trouble of using his Kidney as a full stop. “
    “I don’t think he meant to do that, it probably just plopped out.”
  • “Say you’re wrong?”
    “Sir, I’ll stake my reputation on it.”
    “Kryten, you haven’t got a reputation.”
    “No, but I’m hoping to acquire one from this escapade.”
  • “Any damage? “
    “Not too bad, a couple of sensors are out, the fuel intake chambers are both flooded, and the left pilot seat doesn’t go up and down anymore. “
    “We came through that intact? “
    “Starbug was made to last sir, this old baby’s crashed more times than a ZX81. “
    “It’s what it’s made of. Back in the 22nd Century aerospace engineers discovered that after a plane crash, the only thing that always survives intact is a cute little doll, so they made Starbug out of the same stuff. “
    “Is that a fact? “
    “Cat, you’re so gullible. “
  • “Stay back”
    “How long has it been since you made love to a woman?”
    “I admit it’s been a while.”
    “It’s been over three million years, Dave.”
    “I prefer to count it in Ice Ages: then it’s just four. And if you count it in _leap_ Ice Ages, it’s hardly even one.”
    “That’s a long time, Dave, for a man of your drives.”
    “That’s a long time for a Albanian shepherd who’s allergic to wool.”
    – Lister & a stunning Psiren
    “A couple of Psirens wiped each other out fighting over my brains … Oh, no. It’s the TV weather girl from channel 27.”
    “Sir. Fight it! Don’t look at her.”
    “It’s not that easy, Kryten — you can’t see what she’s doing with her pointy stick.”
    – Lister & Kryten
    (Rimmer and Kryten are holding Lister & a Psiren, who looks exactly like Lister…)
    “Play the Guitar. “
    “What here? inside? “
    “Play it! “
    (Psiren Lister plays the Guitar- Cat and Kryten shoot the Psiren Lister)
    Real_Lister: “How did you know that wasn’t me? “
    Cat: “Cos that dude could play! “
    Lister: “He’s no better than me. “
    Kryten: “That’s the way you believe you can play sir. That’s why, when the Psiren read your mind, he shared your delusion, that you are not a ten-thumbed, tone-deaf, talentless noise polluter. “
    Lister: “You’re seriously saying you think he was better than me?
    ( Real_Lister plays the Guitar) So, what’s the difference? “
    Cat: “Little survival tip bud, never play your Guitar in front of a man with a loaded gun.”
  • “Ten o’clock change-over anything to report? “”We’re still lagging behind Red Dwarf sir, almost 24 hours behind now, other than that, it’s been a moderately quiet shift, except for one small shock a couple of hours ago when we noticed an alien invasion fleet off the starboard bow, thankfully it turned out to be one of Mr Lister’s old sneezes that had congealed on the radar screen.”
  • “How are we fuel wise? “
    “Unchanged for today sir, however the supply situation grows increasingly bleak. We’ve recycled the water so often, it’s beginning to taste like Dutch Lager. “
    “We’re OK for food aren’t we? “
    “Confidentially sir no. We’ve no meat, no pulse and hardly any grain. Worst still, the only liquorice all-sorts left are those only little black twisty ones that everybody hates. If that weren’t bad enough, space weevils have eaten the last of the corn supply. “
    “So what’s under the grill? “
    “Space Weevil.”
  • “There is a cyberpark in the complex. You may go to any time- period of your choosing, and indulge any fantasy you wish, with any persons you desire.”
    “And that’s in some way supposed to make me happy? (pause) S- sorry, run that by me one more time?”
  • When I finally get round to writing my Good Psycho Guide, this place is gonna get raves. Accomodation – excellent. Food – first class. Resident nutter – courteous and considerate. Psycho rating’s gotta be four and a half chainsaws. Higher, maybe.
  • KRYTEN (Shifting his grip on the vase.) You won’t feel a thing. I’ll render you unconscious using the Ionian Nerve Grip.
    RIMMER tenses up, closes his eyes and grits his teeth. KRYTEN pinches him on the shoulder… then smashes him over the head with the vase.
    RIMMER: That’s not an Ionian Nerve Grip! That’s smashing me over the head with a vase!
    KRYTEN: There’s no such thing as an Ionian Nerve Grip. Now stand still while I hit you!
  • “It’s too small for a vessel, maybe some kind of missile. “
    “It’s impossible to tell at this range, whatever it is, they clearly have a technology way in advance of our own. “
    “So do the Albanian state washing machine company.”
  • “Step up to red alert. “
    “Sir, are you absolutely sure? It does mean changing the bulb.”
  • Open communications channels Lister. Broadcast on all known frequencies, and in all known languages, including Welsh.
  • R: You took your time, where’ve you been?
    L: I was in the AR Machine.
    R: Again?
    L: What do you mean, again?
    R: Everybody knows you only use the AR machine to have sex.
    L: That is not true!
    R: Yes true, it’s pathetic watching you grind away day after day, like a dog who’s missing his master’s leg. That groinal attachment’s supposed to have a lifetime guarantee, you’ve worn it out in nearly 3 weeks.
    L: That’s an outrageous, scandalous piece of liable. I don’t just play the role playing games! What about the sporting simulations, like zero gee Kick Boxing, and Wimbledon.
    R: You only play Wimbledon, ‘cos you’re having it off with that jail bait ball girl.
    L: There’s another total lie! She’s not jail bait, she’s sixteen!
    R: Lister, she’s a computer sprite, and surely that’s the point, she’s just a load of pixels!
    L: Yeah, what pixels!
  • “What are you saying?”
    “I’m saying, the mouse never wins. Not unless you believe those lying cartoons. We don’t run, we strike. It’s the last thing they’ll be expecting.”
    “No, the last thing they’ll be expecting is for us to turn into ice skating mongooses and to dance the Bolero. And your plan makes about as much sense.”
  • “Would it harm you to have hair like mine?”
    “I have got hair like yours. Just not on my head.”
    “Well, I’m no stranger to the land of scoff. Perhaps you’d like to explain why it is that every major battle in history has been won by the side with the shortest hair cut. “
    “Oh, surely not sir. “
    “Think about it, why did the US Cavalry beat the Indian nation? Short back and sides verses girlie Hippy locks. “
    “The Cavaliers and the Roundheads? One-nil to the Pudding basins “
    “Vietnam, crew cuts both sides, no score draw.”
    (Shakes head despairingly.) “Oh, for a really world class psychiatrist.”
  • K: It’s charging us with looting Space Corp derelicts.
    L: But we don’t loot Space Corp derelicts? We just hack our way in, and swipe what we need!
    R: Lister, if this goes to trial I demand separate lawyers.
    “Recommendations? “
    “I suggest I take the rap for everyone sir, you can say that I held you hostage, and forced you at gun point to do my evil bidding. “
    “For god sake Kryten, we can’t let you do that! “
    “Really? “
    “Dream on metal trash. Get your hands in the air, and step into that search light.”
  • It’s taken my bitterness, and the cat’s cool. He’s in a hell of a shape, he’s looking so geeky, I don’t think he can even get into a Science Fiction convention and Mr. Rimmer is…well… likeable.
  • Sir, this can’t go on. The Cat’s looking geekier than a science fiction convention,
  • “That’s it. I’m invoking space corps directive 6_8_2_5_0.”
    ” 6_8_2_5_0? But sir, surely that’s impossible without at least one live chicken and a rabbi.”
    “Forget it. Forget I was ever born.”
    “But sir, I’m very happy to perform the ceremony, but I’m bewildered as to how sacrificing poultry will clear up the screen problem.”
  • “Kryten, the Eastbourne zimmer-frame relay team can easily outrun us. It’s not about speed, it’s about wit, brains and cunning.”
    “Hmm, I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, sir.”
  • “Yes sir, he says in exchange for the oxygeneration unit he want *you* to be his daughter’s mate.”
    “*That’s* his daughter?”
    “One of three. Apparently sir *she’s* the looker.”
    “Tell him, not if she was the last water yeti lookalike in the world and I was the only boy.”
    “Oh, come on, Lister, you’ve dated worse.”
    “Only due to very poor disco lighting.”
  • “There’s an old Cat saying: ‘ If you’re gonna eat tuna, expect bones.’ ” “There’s an old human saying: ‘ If you’re gonna talk garbage, expect pain.’ “
  • “Lister, we’d be fools not to listen to him. When is he ever wrong? Alright, he may have a head shaped like an inexplicably popular fishing float but he does operate from a position of total logic and we’d be fools to ignore his sage council.”
    “At least let me and Mister Rimmer go in your place. We are after all merely electronic life forms and therefore expendable.”
    “And what the smeg would you know, bog-bot from hell?”
  • – Lister discusses one of the famous moments of literature…
    R: That’s it, I’m invoking Space Corp Directive 39436175880932/B.
    K: 39436175880932/B. All nations attending the conference are only allocated one parking space. Is that entirely relevant sir. I mean here we are, in mortal danger and you’re worried about the Chinese delegates bringing two cars.
    R: Can’t you let just one go, I was talking about the right of P-O-W’s to non-violent constraint.
    K: But that’s 75880932/C, sir.
  • It is our primary overriding duty to contact other life forms, exchange information, and, wherever possible, bring them home
  • By joining Space Corps, each individual tacitly consents to give up his inalienable rights to life, liberty, and adequate toilet facilities.
  • Crew members are expressly forbidden from leaving their vessel except on production of a permit. Permits can only be issued by the Chief Navigation Officer, who is expressly forbidden from issuing them except on production of a permit.
  • Any officer found to have been slaughtered and replaced by a shape-changing chameleonic life form shall forfeit all pension rights.
  • In an emergency situation involving two or more officers of equal rank, seniority will be granted to whichever officer can program a VCR.
  • Terraformers are expressly forbidden from recreating Swindon.
  • Work done by an officer’s doppelganger in a parallel universe cannot be claimed as overtime.
  • During temporal disturbances, no questions shall be raised about any crewmember whose timesheet shows him or her clocking off 187 years before he clocked on.
  • No officer above the rank of mess sergeant is permitted to go into combat with pierced nipples
  • To preserve morale during long-haul missions, all male officers above the rank of First Technician must, during panto season, be ready to put on a dress and a pair of false breasts.
  • The log must be kept up to date at all times with current service records, complete mission data, and a comprehensive and accurate list of all crew birthdays so that senior officers may avoid bitter and embarrassing silences when meeting in the corridor with subordinates who have not received a card.
  • No officer with false teeth should attempt oral sex in zero gravity
  • Any officer caught sniffing the saddle of the exercise bicycle in the women’s gym will be discharged without trial.
  • Q: “Are there aliens in Red Dwarf?”
    A: “No. One of the premises of the show is that life never evolved anywhere in the universe except on Earth. All of the creatures encountered by Red Dwarf’s crew – GELFs, simulants, space weevils, polymorphs, you name it – are descended from life forms that originated on Earth.”

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