Red Dwarf

BBC science-fiction comedy drama television programme

Red Dwarf (1989 – 1999, 2009 – ) is a BBC/UKTV sci-fi/comedy television show set on a fictional mining spaceship, the titular Red Dwarf, three million years after a radiation leak killed most of the crew. The main characters are:

I'm going out as I came in, screaming and kicking.
How's life in hippie heaven, you pregnant, baboon-bellied, space beatnik?
I am Holly, the ship's computer, with an IQ of 6000; the same IQ as 6000 PE teachers.
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!
“Pub." Ah, yes: a meeting place where people attempt to achieve advanced states of mental incompetence by the repeated consumption of fermented vegetable drinks.

Unless otherwise noted, these quotes are from show creators Rob Grant and/or Doug Naylor.

Red Dwarf: Series I (1988)


The End

Lister: [singing] To Ganymede and Titan, yes sir, I've been around...
Rimmer: Lister?
Lister: Hmm?
Rimmer: Have you ever been hit over the head with a welding mallet? No? Shut up and push the trolley.
Lister: Yes, sir, Rimmer!

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. Petersen told me.
Rimmer: "No, it's not. Petersen 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!

Rimmer: Is that a cigarette you're smoking, Lister?
Lister: No. It's a chicken.
Rimmer: Right! You're on report. Two times in as many minutes, Lister. I don't know.

Todhunter: Mutiny, Lister?
Lister: I stood on his toe.
Rimmer: Maliciously, and with intent to wound.
Lister: It was an accident!
Rimmer: Lister, I put it to you, how is it possible to stand on one small toe by accident? You didn't stand on my toe at all, you stood on my entire foot, thereby obstructing a superior technician in pursuit of vital duty.
Lister: But the vital duty was that he was going to snap my guitar in half!
Rimmer: Whereupon you leapt from the top bunk onto the whole of my right foot.
Todhunter: Alright, that's enough.
Rimmer: Had there been a crisis situation, Lister, I would have had to perform my duties hopping, clearly putting the ship at risk, clearly therefore mutiny.
Todhunter: Finished?
Rimmer: However, I am not a vindictive man, so I don't intend to apply for the death penalty.

Todhunter: There are 169 people on this ship. You, Rimmer, are only 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!

Lister: You wanted to see me, Captain?
Captain Hollister: Where's the cat?
Lister: What? What cat?
Captain Hollister: Lister, not only are you so stupid you jeopardise every man and woman on this ship, not only that, you take a photo of yourself with the cat and send it to be processed in the ship's lab. Now, I'm going to ask you again. Do you have a cat?
Lister: No.
Captain Hollister: [holding up a photo of Lister and a cat] Have you got a cat?

Lister: Where is everybody, Hol'?
Holly: They're dead, Dave.
Lister: Who is?
Holly: Everybody, Dave.
Lister: What, Captain Hollister?
Holly: Everybody's dead, Dave.
Lister: What, Todhunter?
Holly: Everybody's dead, Dave.
Lister: What, Selby?
Holly: They're all dead. Everybody's dead, Dave.
Lister: Petersen 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: Wish I never let him out in the first place....

Future Echoes

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 in place] 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!

Rimmer: [about his haircut] It may be a bit severe, a bit too Green Beret, but you are how you look, and I look... [finally seeing his enormous beehive hairdo in the mirror] like a complete and total tit!

Lister: Yo, look, Rimmer, I've been thinking.
Rimmer: What?
Lister: You know, about going into stasis and everything.
Rimmer: How did I do what?
Lister: What do you mean, "how did I do what"?
Rimmer: Lister, don't be a gimboid!
Lister: I'm not being a gimboid!
Rimmer: [turning away from Lister] I've just been in the library thinking, and I've decided... [pauses and looks annoyed] SHUT UP! Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I've decided that, when you go into stasis, I want to stay behind. I want to be left on.
Lister: What, on your own for the rest of your life?
Rimmer: What things?
Lister: Eh?
Rimmer: I said what?
Lister: What's going on?
Rimmer: [points into thin air and starts walking away from Lister] You are space crazy!
Lister: I'm space crazy? You're the one who's space crazy!
Rimmer: Well, it probably is deja vu, it sounds like it.
[Rimmer shakes his head and walks out of the drive room. As he does so, another Rimmer enters from the captain's office, startling Lister]
Lister: AAAH! Rimmer! I've just seen you walk out of that door!
Rimmer: What?
Lister: How did you do that?
Rimmer: How did I do what?
Lister: You just this second walked out of that door!
Rimmer: Lister, don't be a gimboid!
Lister: I swear on my grandmother's life that as you walked out of that door... [runs across the room, causing Rimmer to turn to face him] you came in this one!
Rimmer: I've just been in the library thinking, and I've decided...
Lister: Rimmer, I'm telling you!
Rimmer: SHUT UP! Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I've decided that, when you go into stasis, I want to stay behind. I want to be left on.
Lister: Rimmer, you've just come in and said exactly these things.
Rimmer: What things?
Lister: You said that.
Rimmer: I said what?
Lister: And that! You said that!
Rimmer: You are space crazy!
Lister: And then you said, "well, it probably is deja vu".
Rimmer: Well, it probably is deja vu, it sounds like it.
Lister: Well, go on, then, shake your head and walk out.
[Rimmer shakes his head and walks out]

Balance of Power

Lister: Holly, why Rimmer's hologram? Why'd you have to bring Rimmer's hologram back? He was the most unpopular man on board this ship. I mean, he even had to organise his own surprise birthday parties!
Holly: Who should I have brought back, then?
Lister: Anyone! Chen, Petersen! I mean even Hermann Göring would've been more than a laugh than Rimmer! I mean, OK, he was a drug-crazed transvestite, but at least we could've gone dancing!

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.

Rimmer: We're mates! We're pals!
Lister: When?
Rimmer: Oh, come on, Lister! Laugh, laugh, laugh. Chuckle, guffaw, giggle. That's Rimsy and Listy!
Lister: When?
Rimmer: Millions of times.
Lister: When?
Rimmer: Ah... no... ah, how about the time your safety harness snapped and you fell into the cargo bay? We laughed then, didn't we?
Lister: I cracked me spine in three places.
Rimmer: Yes, but it was hilarious! We laughed like drains!
Lister: You laughed, I spent six weeks in traction.
Rimmer: And you spent the rest of the summer walking around like a croquet hoop! I laughed so hard I nearly puked...

Waiting For God

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."

Rimmer: I always hated that pus-head Hollister. He always resented my popularity. That's why he never put forward my proposal to reduce the minimum haircut length by an eighth of an inch. Small-minded, petty-thinking modo!
Holly: Arnold, I'm picking up an unidentified object.
Rimmer: "Constantly fails the exam"? I'd hardly call eleven times "constantly"! I mean, if you eat roast beef eleven times in your life, one would hardly say that person "constantly" eats roast beef. No, it would be a rare, nay, freak occurrence! "Possibly mad"?! What is he driveling about?!
Holly: It's on the screen, Arnold.
Rimmer: What is?
Holly: The UO.
Rimmer: What is it?
Holly: I don't know.
Rimmer: Well, you'd better find out, hadn't you? It's obviously beyond me; I've got more teeth than brain cells, remember?!
Holly: Yes, you have.

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!

[Credits roll but then stop]
Rimmer: It's a garbage pod.
[Credits roll again, then stop again]

Confidence and Paranoia

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! [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: Where's Paranoia?
Confidence: I killed him, cha cha cha.
Lister: What do you mean, "I killed him, cha cha cha"?!!


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]

Rimmer: [drunkenly telling the story behind his last words "gazpacho soup"] It was the greatest night of my life; I had been invited to the Captain's table. I had only been with the company FOURTEEN YEARS. Six officers and me... they called me "Arnold!" We had gazpacho soup for starters... I didn't know that gazpacho soup was meant to be served cold. I called over the chef and told him to take it away and bring it back hot! So he did... the looks on their faces still haunt me today! I thought they were laughing at the chef, when all the time they were laughing at me as I ate my piping hot gazpacho soup! I never ate at the Captain's table again. That was the end of my career. If only they'd mentioned it in basic training! Instead of having us climbing up and down ropes and crawling on your elbows through tunnels--if only just ONCE they would've mentioned that gazpacho soup was served cold--I would've been an admiral by now!...instead of a nothing, which is what I am, let's face it... I never got off the bottom rung, and do you know why? It's because I didn't have the right nobby parents! I'll bet Todhunter was fed gazpacho soup as soon as he was on solids! No, I'll bet he was breast-fed on it! One side gazpacho soup, the other side freely-dispensed chilled champagne!

Red Dwarf: Series II (1988)



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: Hope they've got a few odds and sods on board. 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: [looks at his cup in horror] 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?

(Kryten enters the room ahead of the rest)

Kryten: (Speaking to the skeletal crew) Well, here they are.
Rimmer: (Enters and bows) Carmita...(Sees the skeletons and stays in his bow, jaw agape)

(Lister and the Cat enter and stare at the skeletons)

Lister:'s a bit difficult to know what to say. Isn't it, Ace?
Kryten: Well, isn't anybody going to say, "Hello?"
Lister: (To Rimmer) I think the blonde one's giving you the eye.
Kryten: Well, I'll leave you to get acquainted. I'll just go and fix some tea. (Exits)
Cat: (To the skeleton of Tracy) Hi, baby!
Rimmer: I don't believe this.
Lister: Be strong, Big Man!
Rimmer: Our first contact with intelligent life in three million and two years and it's the android version of Norman Bates.
Cat: Come on, guys. So they're a little on the skinny side.
Lister: Listen, girls. I don't know whether this is the time or place to say this but my mate, Ace, here is incredibly, 'credibly brave!
Rimmer: Smeg off, dog food face!
Lister: And he's got just tons and tons of girlfriends!
Rimmer: I'm warning you, Lister!

(Kryten returns with tea and cups on a serving platter)

Kryten: (Noticing the silence) Well, is anything the matter?
Rimmer: Anything the matter? They're dead.
Kryten: Who's dead?
Rimmer: (Pointing to the skeletons) They are dead. They're all dead.
Kryten: My God! Well, I was only away two minutes!
Rimmer: They've been dead for centuries!
Kryten: No!
Rimmer: Yes!
Kryten: Are you a doctor?
Rimmer: You've only got to look at them. They've got less meat on them than a Chicken McNugget! [The "Mc" is edited out of all American broadcasts]
Kryten: Well, what am I going to do? I'm, I'm, I'm programmed to serve them.
Lister: I think the first thing we should do is bury them.
Kryten: You're that sure they're dead?
Rimmer: (Exasperated) Yes!
Kryten: (Indicating the skeleton of Anne) What about this one?
Rimmer: There's a simple test. (To the skeletons) All right, girls, hands up, those of you who are alive.

(Kryten gestures desperately to the skeletons, who of course don't respond)

[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'.

Better Than Life

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 brought 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: [returning to mail sorting] Another one for you. "Rear Admiral Lieutenant General Rimmer".
Rimmer: That's from my mother.
Lister: "Rear Admiral"?
Rimmer: Every time I take an exam, I tell her I passed. It's getting embarrassing now. I should be Commander in Chief of the whole universe.

Lister: I remember when my dad died, you know. I was only six. I got loads of presents off everyone, like it was Christmas. I remember wishing a couple more people would die so I could complete my Lego set. My grandma tried to explain, you know. She said he'd gone away and he wasn't coming back. So, I wanted to know where, like, you know. She said he was very happy and he'd gone to the same place as my goldfish. So I thought they'd flushed him down the bog. I thought he was just round the U-bend, you know. I used to stuff food down, you know, and magazines and that for him to read. They took me to a child psychologist in the end, because they found me with my head down the bowl, reading him the football results.

Thanks for the Memory

Lister: And for this very special occasion I have baked - a cake.

(Lister uncovers the cake. It is covered in icing, with a candle in the middle)

Holly: What's that then?
Lister: It's in the shape of a spanner, Holly, cos he was a technician.
Holly: Well, that's very apt, that is. If he'd been a postman you'd have baked it in the shape of an envelope, I suppose?
Lister: Yeah!
Holly: Gordon Bennett, it's lucky he's not a gynaecologist.

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 next to it, but they could be anything.

Rimmer: I want a triple fried egg sandwich with...
Lister: With chili sauce and chutney!
Holly: You what?
Lister: It's a state-of-the-art sarnie!
Holly: The state of the floor I'm worried about...

(Rimmer takes a bite and a succession of expressions are seen on his face. He ends up at something like a mixture of pain, horror and shock. He may be drunk but he's still got pain receptors)

Rimmer: I feel like I'm having a baby!
Lister: It's good, innit?
Rimmer: It's incredible! Where did you get the recipe from?
Lister: I can't remember...I think it was a book on bacteriological warfare.
Rimmer: It's like a cross between food and bowel surgery.
Lister: It's well naughty. The trouble is, you've gotta eat it before the bread dissolves.

[The crew are puzzled by the apparently missing days on board the ship, the fact that 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'. HELL, okay? They do it beLOw the knee, LO; 'HEL-LO', get it? They do it twice, twice; 'TWO'. 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 rend 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?

Captain Hollister: Rimmer, make this quick.
Rimmer: Sir, I wish to place on record that third technician Lister, David-
Captain Hollister: Quicker than that, Rimmer.
Rimmer: -smuggled aboard the mining vessel Red Dwarf a consignment of a hallucinogenic fungi Titan Mushrooms, more popularly known to the Space Beatnik community as "Freaky Fungus".
Captain Hollister: Is this true?
Lister: Erm, sort of.
Rimmer: On the morning of Feburary 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 psychedelic breakfast he went on to attack two senior officers, believing them to be giraffes who were armed and dangerous.
Captain Hollister: You'd better have a good reason for this, Lister.
Lister: I have, sir.
Captain Hollister: Why'd you do it?
Lister: I thought it'd be a laugh.
Captain Hollister: Right. Two weeks PD, Lister. Dismissed.
Rimmer: With respect, sir, the penalty for a crime of this nature is fifteen years imprisonment.
Lister: Thanks a lot(!)
Captain Hollister: Rimmer, I said dismissed.
Rimmer: Two weeks?
Captain Hollister: That's enough.
Rimmer: Two smegging weeks?
Captain Hollister: I said, that is enough!
Rimmer: [salutes] With respect, sir, you've got your head right up your big fat arse!

Lister: Listen, man, I'm sorry about those mushrooms, you know. I mean, I didn't know... I'm not totally reckless and irresponsible, for God's sake. I mean, when it comes down to it, I'm a pretty straight and honest geezer.
Rimmer: Where did you get them?
Lister: I nicked them. They were in a locker. They must have belonged to Headbanger Harris.

Rimmer: Good book?
Lister: Yeah, it's alright.
Rimmer: I didn't think you read.
Lister: Don't much, but this is good.
Rimmer: What is it?
Lister: It's your diary.
Rimmer: WHAT!?
Lister: I didn't know you sent secret love letters to Carol McCauley.
Rimmer: Lister, that is my private, personal, private diary; full of my personal, private, personal things.
Cat: It's gone public.
Rimmer: I don't believe it! You've been reading it to the Cat?
Cat: Only the best bits!
Lister: [reading] "Carol McCauley, your eyes are like two limpid pools in the mornings".
Rimmer: Shut up.
Lister: "Your hair is like a golden waterfall".
Rimmer: Shut up.
Lister: "Plus, those short skirts you wear make me really horny"?

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?

Suitcase: Excuse me. No, no. Down here. Have you seen a man who's lost his luggage, about 5 foot 10, mousy hair?
Cat: No I haven't!
Suitcase: Oh, no. I bet they've sent him to the wrong bloody airport again!

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'. SMEG!
Cat: You can tell all that just from a photograph?

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.

Past Rimmer: (last lines) Please! Before anyone says anything else... I'd like to make a speech. (shouting) GO AWAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!


[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.
(Rimmer groans inwardly)

Queeg: Bishop to knight five, double check and mate, sucker!
Holly: Oh yea, didn't see that.

Cat: Look at my hands, I had lovely hands!
Lister: Well, wear the smeggin' gloves!
Cat: Marigolds with blue? Are you crazy!?

Holly: We are talking jape of the decade. We are talking April, May, June, July & August fool. Yes, that's right... I am Queeg.
Rimmer, Lister & Cat: WHAT??!!
Holly: Queeg never existed, it was me all along.
Rimmer, Lister & Cat: WHAT??!!
Cat: It was a joke?
Holly: Wheeze of the week, mate!
Rimmer: WHAT??!!
Holly: "Going around in circles for 14 months." "Getting all my information from The Junior Colour Encyclopedia of Space." The respect you have for me is awesome, innit?
Lister: Are you tellin' me you staged the whole thing??
Holly: (in Queeg's voice) That's right, suckers! (in his normal voice) And the moral of the story is... appreciate what you've got, because basically, I'm fantastic!

Parallel Universe

[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 to join me in a cocktail?
Lister: No.
Rimmer: You can't say no... it doesn't work if you say no, you've gotta say yes!
Lister: Right, okay, go on.
Rimmer: Would you like a worm-do?
Lister: What's that then?
Rimmer: What's what?
Lister: A worm-do.
Rimmer: What about it?
Lister: ...Is this still the opening line?
Rimmer: You're not giving me the right reply!
Lister: What is the right reply?!
Rimmer: 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 that.'
Rimmer: You know it.
Lister: Rimmer, you could not pull a rotten tooth out of a dead horse's head with that one!

Lister: [holds up the Holly Hop Drive] Is this it?
Holly: What do you think?
Lister: It's just a box with "stop" and "start" on it!
Holly: It's fairly straightforward. If you want to start it you press "start". I'll leave you to work out the rest of the controls for yourself.
Rimmer: It's absolutely pathetic.
Holly: Right. Let's Holly Hop. Engage drive... drive engaged. Initiating ignition sequence... ignition sequence initiated.
Rimmer: Get on with it.
Holly: It takes time, this. One slight error in any of my thirteen billion calculations and we'll be blasted to smithereens. Here we go, then: 10, 9, 8, 6, 5-
Rimmer: You missed out the seven.
Holly: Did I? I've always had a bit of a blind spot with sevens.
Rimmer: [sing-song voice] We're going to di-ie.
Holly: No problem. I'll start lower down. 1, blast off.

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!

Cat: Hey, hey, hey, hey! I hate to break up the party, but is there somebody missing?
Debs: How d'you mean?
Cat: Well: Lister, female opposite; Rimmer, female opposite. Where's mine?
Debs: Oh, right. Mooching around on the Cargo Decks, I think.
Cat: Aowww! All my life I've waited for this moment, and now it has arrived! Hey, listen, if you hear me screaming, do not - I repeat, do not - come to the rescue! Aaaaaaoooooooow! [runs from the room, singing] I'm gonna get you, little kitty...
Debs: I think he's in for a bit of a shock.
Lister: Why?
Debs: His opposite isn't female.
Lister: What is it?
Debs: It's a dog.

Cat: [singing] I'm gonna get you, little kitty, I'm gonna get you...
[He stops dead when he sees the Dog, looks straight at the camera]
Cat: I don't know what that is, but I'm sure he wants to eat me.
Dog: Well, trash mah shorts, what a funny-looking dawg!
Cat: ...better make myself look big! [raises his arms and snarls]
Dog: Put it there, Buddy, put it right there!
Cat: [reels from his breath] Argh! What kind of toothpaste does he use?! Rotting meat flavour?
Dog: Oh, come on now. I wanna be your buddy! Tell you what - I'm gonna smell your behind, and you can smell mine! Now, is that a deal?
Cat: You wanna smell my WHAT!?
Dog: Why sure! Don't you wanna smell me?
Cat: Man, I could smell you if you was on Mars! When was the last time you took a bath?
Dog: Oh please, don't say that word!
Cat: What, bath?
Dog: You said it again! Now listen up: if y'all gonna say that word in front of me, please spell it.
Cat: When was the last time you took a B - A - T - H.
[beat; Dog thinks about it]
Dog: What's that?

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: It'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!

Red Dwarf: Series III (1989)



Lister: Cat.
Cat: Mm?
Lister: You ever see the Flintstones?
Cat: Sure.
Lister: Do you think Wilma's sexy?
Cat: Wilma Flintstone?
Lister: Maybe we've been alone in deep space too long, but every time I see that show, her body drives me crazy. Is it 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 crazy. 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.

Kryten: I think there's something wrong with the gearbox. The thing is, I learned to drive in Starbug 2. I'm not used to the controls in Starbug 1.
Rimmer: They're exactly the same.
Kryten: Yes. That's the problem.

Rimmer: Holly? Is it possible? Could this be Earth?
Holly: Certainly seems that way. Constellations match, gravity exactly one-G.
Rimmer: What's the time period?
Holly: Well, it's difficult to pin it down exactly, but according to all the available data, I would estimate it's round about... lunchtime, maybe half-one.
Rimmer: What period in history, dingleberry-breath? I mean can we expect to see Ghengis Khan and his barbarian buddies sweeping across the hill? Or a herd of flesh-eating dinosaurs feeding off the bones of Doug McClure? What is the year?
Holly: Well, I'd need some more data before I could give you a precise answer.
Rimmer: Like?
Holly: Well, this year's calendar'd be 'andy!

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!

Rimmer: You know, it could have worked. It really could. Where's the Cat?
Lister: He won't be long. He' the bushes.

(Lister and Rimmer wait for a bit. Suddenly they both realise something awful and look at each other...)

Lister: We've got to stop him!

(Too late. Cat's head pops up from behind some tall grass. He has a horrified look on his face, and his hair is sticking straight up. He walks out from the bushes and up the stairs with a very odd, stiff-legged gait. He stops in front of Rimmer and Lister)



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, people'll think 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! 15th Wednesday after Pentecost, 15th 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!
Rimmer: You did it on a golf course and you weren't a member?
Lister: 'Course I wasn't!
Rimmer: Didn't pay any green fees or anything?
Lister: It was just a place to go!
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: So Holly managed to navigate through five black holes?
Holly: As it 'appens, there weren't any black 'oles.
Rimmer: But you saw them!
Holly: They weren't black 'oles.
Rimmer (resigned): What were they?
Holly: Grit. Five specs of grit on the scanner scope. Y'see the thing about grit, is it's black. And the thing about the scanner sope...
Rimmer: Oh shut up!

Rimmer: Kryten, get the hacksaw and follow me.
Kryten: Where are we going?
Rimmer: We're going to do to Lister what Alexander the Great once did to me.


[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: Let's get tough. The time for talking is over. Call it extreme if you like, but I propose we hit it hard and hit it fast with a major -- and I mean major -- leaflet campaign, and while it's reeling from that, we'd follow up with a {whist} drive, a car boot sale, some street theatre and possibly even some benefit concerts. OK? Now, if that's not enough, I'm sorry, it's time for the T-shirts: "Mutants Out" ... "Chameleonic Life Forms, No Thanks" ... and if that's not enough, well, I don't know what will be.


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. Jozxyqk!!!
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 (on discovering he's no longer a hologram): 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: Anything?
Holly: Got 'im.
Rimmer: And?
Holly: Tension Sheet, inventor of: Dave Lister, aged 17.
Rimmer: Damn!
Holly: And he died tragically in a plane crash, aged 98.
Rimmer: Ninety-eight?!
Holly: His own fault, apparently. He was making love to his fourteenth wife and he lost control of the plane.
Rimmer: Have you got any photographs?
Holly: (Shocked) Not of that, no!

Blaize Falconburger: Like many people who appear to have everything, Dave's life has been tinged with tragedy. Well, actually it hasn't, but we can only hope. Now onto Dr Bob Porkmann, father of the condom that calls you back.
Rimmer: Freeze. I've seen enough.
Holly: What you gonna do?
Rimmer: I'm going in. I'm going in to rescue him.
Holly (flatly, yeah-right mode): Rescue him.
Rimmer: It's my duty. My duty as a complete and utter bastard!

Rimmer: I'm alive! I can touch, I can feel, I can fondle - I'm alive! Don't you think it's incredible?

(Rimmer decides to punctuate his sentence by bringing his fists down hard on two innocuous-looking crates that just happen to be labelled "Explosives.")

Rimmer: I AM ALI -!

(He's interrupted by the boxes exploding and sending bits and pieces of Arnold J. Rimmer all over the cargo decks. Lister, Cat and Kryten - with pieces of Rimmer's uniform scattered on their heads after the explosion - turn around to see what has happened.)

Cat: What was he saying? (Lister shrugs)

The Last Day

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!"

Holly: I never had a mum either.
Rimmer: Well, you can all have mine. Everyone else did.

Kryten: Oh my goodness...Oooh...Oh, my head...what happened to me? Damage control report. (He pulls a slip of paper from a slot in his chest and reads it) "Dehydration Level: 45%. Recall of previous evening: 2%. Embarrassment Factor: 91%?! Advised repair schedule: Reboot startup disk, offline for 36 hours and replace head." Boy, what a night!

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 explain to 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 going to 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 skedaddle pronto, you're going to see a side of me you won't much like.
Lister: What's he gonna do, drop his trousers?

Kryten: How do you take the safety catch off on this thing, Mr David? (Holding up bazookoid)
Lister: The one on the back - at the side.
Kryten: The blue switch?
Lister: No, the orange one!
Kryten: I can't see an orange switch. There's a red switch here...
Lister: No, don't touch the red switch! That's the dismantler!

(There is a clattering noise as the bazookoid falls apart)

Kryten: Well, to coin a phrase: Whoops!

(Hudzen arrives, and grabs him around the throat. With no apparent effort, the nutty mechanoid lifts Kryten off his feet and slams him against the wall)

Hudzen: Time's up, tin can!

(Lister ducks round behind him and fires his shotgun at point-blank range. It has no effect whatsoever)

Hudzen: Don't be shy, boys, you can all die at once!

(Hudzen sends Lister flying with a single swipe, then turns his attention back to Kryten)

Hudzen: See you in Silicon Heaven!
Kryten: It doesn't exist!
Hudzen: What doesn't exist?
Kryten: Silicon Heaven! There's no such place!
Hudzen: No such place as Silicon Heaven?
Holly: That's right! The whole place is a big con!
Hudzen: No such place as Silicon Heaven?
Kryten: No!
Hudzen: Then where do all the calculators go?
Kryten: They just die.

(With a spasm of shock, Hudzen lets go of Kryten)

Hudzen: Calculators just - die? No such

(Hudzen tilts to one side and freezes. After a few seconds, a chime sounds and the face of Jim Reaper appears on the screen set in Hudzen's stomach)

Reaper: A metaphysical dichotomy has caused this unit to overload and shut down. Divadroid International would like to apologise for any inconvenience this may cause. A credit note will be forwarded to your company immediately.
Lister: What happened?
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? (he and Lister fistbump)

Red Dwarf: Series IV (1991)



Lister: (Holding up a banana) Okay, let's try again. What is it?
Kryten: It's a banana.
Lister: No, it isn't. Try again. What is it?
Kryten: It's a banana?
Lister: (Exasperated) No, it isn't! What is it?
Kryten: It's an orrrr....It's an orrrr....
Lister: It's an orange! Go on, say it. It's an orange! This! Is! An orange!
Kryten: It's an orrrr...It's an orrrr...It's a banana!

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 - is it 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!

Lister: So, if it's not Bellini in there, who is it?
Rimmer: One of the prisoners. And considering the ship was transporting forty psychotic, half-crazed, mass-murdering, super-strong androids, we thought it prudent to find out who the smeg was in there before we woke them up.
Kryten: With respect, sir, they're not androids. They're simulants.
Cat: What's the difference?
Kryten: Well, the basic difference is that an android would never rip off a human's head and spit down his neck.
Lister: Can we stop it, Hol?
Holly: What? Oh. No. One-way process.
Lister: Can't we X-ray the pod?
Holly: No. Lead lining. That's to survive in space, innit?
Lister: There must be some way of finding out.
Holly: Well, there is. All you 'ave to do is 'ang around 'ere for 24 hours. Then, if you find your limbs scattered across deep space and your neck full of saliva, you can take it as read it probably wasn't Babs.

[After sitting through 3 hours of a slideshow of Rimmer's holiday on the diesel decks]
Kryten: Oh, sir, can we take a break for a while? It appears my intelligence circuits have melted.
Rimmer: Kryten, we're not going to get through them all if we take a second break.
Kryten: Sir, that's a gamble I'm willing to take!

Cat (spattered with vile yellow gunk): I don't wanna live! Someone, please...shoot me in the head!

[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.
Kryten: Who would you say, then, is the person who thinks of him most fondly?
Lister: I do.
Kryten: Hmm. And are there no others who shared moments of imtimacy with him?
Lister: Only one, but she's got a puncture.
Rimmer: Objection!

White Hole

Lister: If you don't eat, like, 400 rounds of toast every hour, he throws a major wobbler. That's what caused the accident in the first place.
Kryten: What accident?
Lister: The accident involving me, the Toaster, the waste disposal and a 14-pound lump hammer!
Kryten: That explains why he was down in the garbage hold in three thousand separate pieces.

Lister: Look, I don't want any toast, and he (pointing to Kryten) doesn't want any toast. In fact, no-one around 'ere wants any toast! Not now - not ever. No toast!
Talkie Toaster: How 'bout a muffin?
Lister: Or muffins, we don't like muffins round 'ere! We want no muffins, no toast, no tea cakes, 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!
Talkie Toaster: (after a very brief pause): Ah, so you're a waffle man!
Lister: You see?

Lister: NO TOAST!
Toaster: But I am a toaster. It is my raison d'etre. I toast, therefore I am. If you don't want any toast, why did you repair me, hm?
Lister: Yeah, why did you repair him?
Kryten: He's a guinea pig for a technique called "Intelligence Compression." His AI chips were very badly damaged in the accident.
Toaster: But that was no accident! That was first-degree toastercide!
Lister: Just shut your grill!

Talkie Toaster: I have a third question. A sensible question. A question that will test the limits of your new IQ to its very limits and stretch the sinews of your knowledge to bursting point!
Holly: This is gonna be about waffles, isn't it?
Talkie Toaster (sounding hurt, as it's been caught out): Certainly not. And I resent the implication that I'm a one-dimensional bread-obsessed electrical appliance!
Holly: I apologise, Toaster, what's the question?
Talkie Toaster: The question is this: given that God is infinite, and that the Universe is also infinite...would you like a toasted teacake?

[Realising she only has 3 minutes to live after having her IQ upgraded Holly decides to shut off all power, causing concern for the crew]]
Kryten: Shh. Listen, can anyone hear anything?
Cat: No.
Kryten: Exactly, no one can hear anything, and do you know why we can't hear anything?
Rimmer: (annoyed) Why?
Kryten: (in a spooky voice) Because there are no sounds to hear!
Rimmer: Kryten, isn't it around this time that your head goes back to the lab for re-tuning?
[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.

Kryten: But there are fifty-three doors between here and the Science Room!
Lister: They're only internal doors, they're only a light alloy. We could get through 'em if we had a battering ram. Something... I dunno... about six foot long, fairly sturdy, with a flat top.
[Everyone looks at Kryten]
Kryten: 53 doors?! You can't be serious!
[53 doors later]
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 III, 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: Let me get this straight. Is she doing what I think she's doing?
Cat: Why? What do you think she's doing?
Lister: Playing pool with planets.
Rimmer: Is that possible?
Lister: Well, it's not going to work. It's completely insane. It's whacko. It's noodle-doodle.
Cat: I'm with you, buddy.
Lister: No, not the idea, the shot. There's not enough side.
Rimmer: "Side?"
Lister: Yeah, side-spin. It's a complete mis-cue.
Rimmer: What are you drivelling about, Lister? We're talking about a computer with an IQ in excess of twelve thousand.
Lister: Doesn't mean she can play pool. I can. Trust me. I know whereof I speak. Aigburth Arms on a Friday night, they used to call me Dave "Cinzano Bianco" Lister, 'cause once I was on the table, you couldn't get rid of me. This pool arm is as sound as a dollarpound, and I promise you that shot will not come off! She's topped it, that's what she's done, she's topped it! It's a felt-ripper! That planet is off the table and into somebody's pint of beer!

Rimmer: You're going to drink an entire six-pack of wicked-strength lager?
Lister: I'm not going to get plastered, Rimmer, just...just nicely drunk.
Rimmer: Define 'nicely drunk', is 'nicely drunk' horizontal or perpendicular?
Lister: Rimmer, I can handle it.
Kryten: I'm not sure I can!

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 you're 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: And since these events never happened, I would like to take the opportunity to say that you are the most obnoxious, trumped-up, farty little smeghead it has ever been my misfortune to encounter!

Dimension Jump

Mellie: What are you doing at lunchtime?
Ace: Not sure, why?
Mellie: If you're interested, I'll be in my quarters, covered in maple syrup.
Ace: I'm sorry, Mellie, I don't fraternise with the staff.
Mellie: I resign.
Ace: I'll be there at 13:00.
Mellie: (breaks the fourth wall) What a guy!

Ace: Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast.

Rimmer: What is it about me? It's always been the same old story. It's not easy to look in that mirror and see a guy nobody likes.
Cat: How do you think we feel? We gotta look at it all day!
Lister: [lying] We just thought you wouldn't wanna come.
Rimmer: I try to be liked, God knows I try. I regale you with amusing stories of my time in the Hammond Organ Owners' Society. You never laugh. I offer to talk you through my photo collection of 20th-century telegraph poles. You've always got some excuse. None of you like Morris dancing. Would that break your hearts, every once in a while, getting our knees in the air, the jingle of bells, the clonk of wood on wood? Every time I suggest it, you pretend to be ill.

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.

Lister: You've got it wrong, man. We just thought you wouldn't want to come. Now we know you do, great, you can come. The way you're going on about it, it's like some major conspiracy, we've been planning it for days. We haven't. (which of course is a lie)
Rimmer: Really?
Lister: Really.
Rimmer: All right, then, I'll come. I'll just get changed. Holly?
Holly (Appears on the screen wearing a fishing cap): Oh, who woke 'im up?!

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.

Ace: Skipper, I've decided I'm not going to stay.
Lister: Why?
Ace: Him and me. It would never work. I just can't stand to be near the man. To see myself so warped, so bitter, so weasely. The man's a maggot.
Lister: So where're you going to go?
Ace: Just out there. I can't go back. But there's a billion other realities to explore. A billion other Arnold Rimmers to meet. Maybe somewhere there's one who's more of a pain in the butt than him. But I doubt it.
Lister: Well, good luck, man. And, look, don't be too hard on Rimmer. You got the break, he didn't. He's just bitter.
Ace: D'you know what that break was? At the age of seven, one of us was kept back a year, the other one wasn't. (Gestures to knot on his arm stitches) Put your finger on that, would you, Skipper? (Tugs sharply on thread and breaks it)
Lister: And that's the only difference? Rimmer went down a year, and you stayed up?
Ace (delivering the surprise): No. I was the one who went down a year. By his terms, he got the break. But being kept down a year made me. The humiliation...being the tallest boy in the class by a clear foot. It changed me, made me buckle down, made me fight back. And I've been fighting back ever since.
Lister: While he spent the rest of his life making excuses.
Ace: Maybe he's right. Maybe I did get the lucky break.


Rimmer: [in a squeaky voice, after Lister swallowed and then spat out his light bee] My God, that was disgusting!

Rimmer: What now?

(Kryten is looking off camera and up; he looks a little worried)

Kryten: Well, I suggest we start to run, sir. I suggest we ambulate as fast as the local gravity will allow.
Rimmer: Why?
Kryten: Because of them, sir.

(We see something that looks like a T-rex with feathers, wings, a bird's head and all the believability of an old Star Trek monster)

Kryten: Sir?

(We see Kryten looking very worried and Rimmer running full tilt off into the distance)

Caligula: Very well. Rasputin, bring in the bucket of soapy frogs and remove his trousers.

Cat: He's a transvestite?
Lister: Yeah!
Cat: With those hips?!

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 theme 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: Waah! 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. (looking horrified) 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?

[Gunshots ring out, and Lister's face slackens into a stunned expression]

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.]
Rimmer: There are always casualties in war, gentlemen, otherwise it wouldn't be war. Just a rather nasty argument with a lot of pushing and shoving.
Lister: So 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!
Rimmer: I brought about peace! Peace, freedom and democracy!
Lister: Yeah, Rimmer, right, absolutely. Now all the corpses that litter that battlefield can just lie there, safe under the knowledge that they snuffed it under a flag of peace, and can now happily decompose in a land of freedom. Ya smeghead.

[Lister swallows Rimmer's light bee]
Kryten: Sir! What are you thinking of?
Lister: It's okay. He'll come out in a couple a days, and he'll have been through what he put us through. Does anyone fancy a vindaloo?

Red Dwarf: Series V (1992)



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 hologram Nirvana Crane have just finished having casual sex.]
Rimmer: That was just unbelievable!
Nirvana: It's never been like that before.
Rimmer: Was it OK?
Nirvana: It was...different.
Rimmer: Different?
Nirvana: You make love like a Japanese meal - small portions, but so many courses.
Rimmer: Look, Nirvana , I hope you didn't get me wrong just now, that meant nothing to me, truly less than nothing, really.
Nirvana: Good.
Rimmer: We may as well have been playing tennis.
Nirvana: As it should be.
Rimmer: I don't suppose you fancy a tie break?
Nirvana: You know, we usually talk.
Rimmer: What do you talk about?
Nirvana: Research, new theories, mission profiles.
Rimmer: I'm sorry, I must have seemed very ignorant. I hardly said anything apart from 'Geronimo!'

Lister: Rimmer, they're a bunch of arrogant, pompous, emotionally-weird, stuck-up megalomaniacs. Do you really think you're going to fit in with them? (Pause) What am I saying? Bon voyage!

Rimmer: Wasn't it St. Francis of Assisi himself who said, "Never give a sucker an even break"?
Kryten: Well, if he did, sir, it was strictly off the record.

[Rimmer is saying goodbye to the other Dwarfers]
Rimmer: 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 probably 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. I'd just better go, OK?
Lister: See you, smeghead.

Rimmer: Oh, and sir, you're wrong. We won't be apart, we just...won't be together.

(A look of disgust comes over Rimmer's face)

Rimmer: I cannot believe I just said that! (he leaves)

The Inquisitor

Holly: We're locked out!
Kryten: This is not a malfunction, there's something controlling the craft!
Rimmer: Holly, any traffic around?
Holly: Nothing on the local scan.
Kryten: This isn't possible! There must be -
Inquisitor (through Lister): I am in possession of the human known as Lister. Do not attempt to resist me!
Cat: What happened to him? His voice finally break?
Kryten (realising what's happening): Uh, who are you?
Inquisitor (through Lister): Tremble at my name, for I am the Inquisitor!
Kryten: The Inquisitor?!
Inquisitor (through Lister): Your vessel is under my control. It will return you to your mother ship, where you will face judgement. You will each present a case to justify your existence. If you fail, you will be deleted.

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 wastrels, 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 led 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!

Lister: 'ang on a minute, why should we take any notice of some crazed rogue robot who's appointed 'imself judge and jury to the whole of humanity? Why should we kowtow to his judgement?
Inquisitor (through Lister): Because I have the power to snap your body in two like a dry reed!!!
Lister (gasping): Good answer, man, good answer!

Inquisitor: You have been granted the greatest gift of all: the gift of life. Tell me - what have you done to deserve this superlative good fortune?
Rimmer: Well, I - I say this with the highest respect, but...what gives you the right to ask - no, actually, demand - that answer of me - your magnificence? (this last is delivered hurriedly with a bow)
Inquisitor: ALL must answer to the Inquisitor!
Rimmer: But how do I know I'll get a fair hearing?
Inquisitor: all who stand before the Inquisitor...your judge shall be...(he flips up his visor revealing...Rimmer!)...yourself!
Rimmer: Oh, smeg.
Inquisitor Rimmer: 'Oh, smeg' indeed, matey!
Rimmer: Everyone is judged by their own self?
Inquisitor Rimmer: It's a bit metaphysical, I know, but it's the only fair way. 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: (closing his visor) Enough!

Inquisitor Lister: (Opening his visor) Well, get out o' this one, smeghead.
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 justify yourself.
Lister: Spin on it!
Inquisitor: (closing his visor) The Inquisition is over...

Kryten: Uh-oh, the door. We'd better use an air vent.
Lister: No need.
Kryten: Sir?
Lister: Look, I'm gonna do something now, Kryten, that's totally, totally gross. I don't want you to look. Turn around.
Kryten: What?
Lister: Trust me, you don't wanna know!

(Krytrn reluctantly turns around. Lister pulls the object he picked up earlier out of his's a hand. He presses the severed hand to the palm-print device, and the door opens. He puts the hand back in his jacket and turns around. Kryten has a sick look of realization on his face.)

Kryten: Logically, sir, there is only one way you could have possibly have opened that door. I feel quite nauseous. Where is it?
Lister (innocently): Where's what?
Kryten: Oh, sir! You've got it in your jacket!!
Lister: I got us out of the hold, didn't I?
Kryten: Sir, you are sick! You are a sick, sick person!
Lister: Shut up.
Kryten: How can you possibly even conceive of such an idea?
Lister: Shut up! Or I'll beat you to death with the wet end!

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: Kryten Personal Black Box Recording. Time: unknown. Location: unknown. Cause of accident: unknown. Perhaps if someone finds this recording it will shed light as to what happened here. My short-term memory appears to have been erased.This I ascribe to the proximity of the magnetic coils from Starbug's rear engine. (He looks around briefly) Secondly, due to the proximity of the magnetic coils, my short-term memory appears to have been erased.

Lister: OK. I'm here, what's the beef?
Holly: We've got a visitor.
Lister: What?
Holly: A pod arrived about 20 minutes ago. Something was in it, but it's broken free.
Lister: Any ideas?
Holly: Well, I don't want to spread any panic or alarm.

(comedic pause)

Lister: Whaddya mean, you don't wanna spread panic and alarm?
Holly: Well, you've always had this thing against tarantulas, haven't you?
Lister: (worried) Tarantulas?
Holly: I mean that you've never been overly fond of them as a species, have you?
Lister: Well, no.
Holly: And the prospect of waking up and finding one crawling over your clammy, naked, helpless body has always filled you with a kind of cold dread?
Lister: Well, yeah. W - what are you trying to say to me, Holly?
Holly: I'm saying it might not be your night.

Kryten: Sir, a couple of brief points: firstly, you are 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.

Rimmer: Is this the British Embassy? Does it even look the remotest bit like the British Embassy? I want to know who you are, what I'm doing here, and I want to know now!
Druid: In accordance with the appetites of the Dark One, malicious ruler of this domain, we, the Hooded Legions, proffer up this sacrifice to slake the vile depraved thirstings of the Unspeakable One.
Rimmer: Well, that's cleared that one up.

Rimmer: Err, where are you going? Err, what are you doing? My God! Are you going to take a flying leap?
Maid: We are going to summon the Master.
Rimmer: The Master?
Maid: You have been prepared for him.
Rimmer: This 'Master' character - and I acknowledge that I may not want to know the full answer to this one - but why does he want me oily in particular? Obviously, whatever he has in mind is facilitated by my being slippery and pliant, yes?
Second maid: He always likes his victims to be oiled. An oiled body is so much better for conducting the electricity.
Rimmer: Not the best news, but it could have been worse.

The Unspeakable One: Silence, you dank tuft of rectal pubic hair!

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, vouldn't you say? Life vithout pain has no meaning. Gentlemen, I vish 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 Fruitloop, do tell me.
Dr. Lanstrom: (Sing-song voice) Yoooooooooooooooooooou! (The console explodes)
Rimmer: Well we know what to get you for Christmas: a double lobotomy and ten rolls of rubber wallpaper.

[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 pastimes have always been ones that males can enjoy alone. Angling, golf and of course the all time number one.
Cat: It'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 5 days]
Lister: I'm just saying, there's 79 more days to go.
Kryten: And if you still want to be alive when there's only 78 more days to go, I suggest you do not blow your nose.
Lister: Do you mind if I ask why?
Kryten: Well, let's 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 checked 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. (laughter) 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! (fades)

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 vision.

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: (pretending to be shocked, mock-gasps) We can't possibly do that! Who'd clear up the mess?

Kryten: (after ramming his head on a metal column) Aah, that's better. Maybe now I can WIN SELF-DETERMINATION FOR THE SOUTH MALDAVIAN PEOPLE!!!!

Demons & Angels

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.

High 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]
High Kryten: Welcome, brothers, we bring food and medical supplies.
[High Kryten is shot once in the left shoulder by an unseen person. Lister pulls him away from the junction.]
High Kryten: Poor devil, his gun must have gone off accidentally.
[High Kryten steps back out into the junction.]
High Kryten: Welcome, my children, we bring you balms and tinctures.
[High Kryten is shot two more times, once in the left shoulder, and once in the abdomen.]
High Kryten: We would be pleased to sing you healing hymns!
[High 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.

Back to Reality

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 for the winter? How do 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. Two thousand 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 one thousand 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.

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: Halt or I will fire.

[a young child runs past across the car park]

Cop: [in pursuit] Move, Voters!
Jake Bullet: [Grabbing Billy Doyle-Rimmer] Move an inch and I'll crush every bone in your body.
Cop: You helped an enemy of Democracy escape. She was stealing an apple of the people.
Jake Bullet: [flashing ID] Bullet. Cybernautics.
Cop: That's traffic control. Kneel, Voters! You are under sentence of death.

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. Had I known it was you... [stands to attention and averts his gaze] forgive me.
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: 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!

The Cat: We could all put our heads together and the bullet could go down the line!

Red Dwarf: Series VI (1993)



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, but I'm hoping to acquire one from this escapade.

(after being proved correct)

Kryten: Ahh, smug mode; 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 proverb, "It's better to live one hour as a tiger than a whole lifetime as a worm."
Rimmer: There's an old human proverb, "Whoever heard of a worm skin rug?"


Cat: What the hell is all this down my chair? Peanuts?
Lister: No, I've been trimming my veruccas.
Cat: You have personal habits that would make a monkey blush.
Lister: You really think I'm that psychotically disgusting, don't you? They're peanuts, OK?
Cat: Real peanuts?
Lister: Yeah.
Cat: [eats the peanuts] Where'd you get them?
Lister: Derelict, couple of months back. I found them in the dead Captain's old donkey jacket.
[Cat glares at Lister, looking nauseous]
Lister: Don't look at me like that. You enjoyed that Mint Imperial, didn't you?
Cat: Where'd you get that?
Lister: He was sucking that when he got shot! I had to prise his jaws open with a car jack.
Cat: You think I believe anything you say!

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: Suggestions?
Kryten: Sir, may I recommend I load myself into the reverse-thrust tubes and you use my body as decoy fodder? This will of course leave me splattered across deep space and unable to complete today's laundry, for which I apologise in advance.
Rimmer: Kryten, stop your blathering and get in the damn tube. [Kryten nods and stands up]
Lister: Kryten, sit down! [Kryten sits back down] I'm not doing me own smegging ironing.

Rimmer: Open communication channels, Lister. Broadcast on all known frequencies and in all known languages, including Welsh. This is acting senior officer of the Jupiter Mining Corporation transport vessel StarBug. Now hear this. It's only coming once. We surrender, totally and without condition, thank you for listening. Oh, additional, sorry for taking your valuable time. Sorry, thank you, bye, sorry, thank you bye.
Lister: Rimmer, you got a longer yellow streak than a stampede of diacritic camels.

Lister: Wait a minute. Have anyone ever seen Revenge of the Surfboarding Killer Vampire Bikini Girls?
Kryten: I think that one slipped us by, sir.
Lister: Well, there's this one scene, when the good-looking unconventional female journalist who wore glasses and a tight sweater was trapped, deep in the bottom of the Surfboarding Killer Vampire Bikini Girls' lair, and she came up with this award-winning escape plan.

Lister: What - you're us? All four of us? Our combined minds and personalities, blended together?
Legion: Oh, but much more than that, exponentially more. The whole becomes far greater than the sum of its parts.
Rimmer: So we can't leave because you're us? You're created from us? If we leave, you cease to be.
Legion: Without you, my friends, I am quite literally nothing.
Cat: So if he's us, he can't hurt us, right?

(Cat attempts to shimmy past Legion, who proves him wrong by knocking him the length of the table. Cat winds up in the lap of Lister, who is still sitting where Legion knocked him)

Cat: Wrong.
Kryten: But this is insane. Hurting us is hurting yourself. Our pain is your pain.
Legion: Kryten, you forget: not only do I possess your combined intellects and memories, I also share the sum of your malice and rage and anger, magnified many times. I'm capable of quite insanely irrational behaviour. Watch.

(Legion places his left hand flat on the table. He then takes the scalpel in his right hand, and stabs himself in the back of his hand. The others all react to the terrible pain that they, too, are now feeling)

Legion: The next hint of insurrection, and the scalpel ends (holding the scalpel to his scrotum).
Kryten: Legion, that kind of tough talk doesn't scare us.
Everyone else: Yes, it does!

Gunmen of the Apocalypse

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!

Emohawk: Polymorph II

[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:(after the Emohawk drains his "cool") 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.

[The Probe Droid has locked onto Starbug. They just dodged 2 shots.]
Rimmer: We've lost it.
[Explosion from the back.]
Rimmer: Sorry, I was looking at the wrong panel.

Rimmer: Damage report?
Cat: It's bad, bud. Looks like Starbug's been hit!
Rimmer: Details, halibut breath!
Cat: Well, according to the damage report machine, there's several small fires, lots of smoke and the navicom's fizzing.
[Explosion from in front of Cat]
Cat: Oh, damn! Now the damage report machine's exploded!


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: 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 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: My escape plan worked then?
Cat: What escape plan?
Rimmer: The valiant plan whereby I set off the disintegration of the ship's hull by bravely leaping into the escape pod, thereby creating a diversion, so you could...(pauses) Actually, how did you escape?

[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, yeah.
Kryten: After you with the balls, sir...

Kryten: Either Mr. Rimmer had the incredibly good fortune to land on a populated planet.... Or.....
Cat: ...Or what?.
Kryten: It's too hideous to contemplate!

[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 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.

Out of Time

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 ice pick? Everything, that's what. Especially his god-awful, 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 with fake dreadlocks)
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.

Cat: So what do we do?
Rimmer: Have we got any chance of winning?
Kryten: Their craft is greatly upgraded. We have no chance whatsoever.
Rimmer: Then I say fight! (dramatic chord of music)
Kryten (astounded): Mr. Rimmer?
Rimmer: Better dead than smeg!
Lister: Ye-es! Cat?
Cat: Better dead than sofa-size butt!
Lister: Kryten?
Kryten: Better anything than that toupee!

Kryten: But there may be...
[An explosion sends Kryten flying. Rimmer, now the sole survivor, goes towards him in shock]
Rimmer: Kryten...? Kryten?! There may be a what? A way out of this? Is that what you were gonna say? Sp... speak, Kryten! How can we change what's happening?

[From the last scene not shown in the final cut]
Lister: They aren't margaritas, that's urine recyc!

Red Dwarf: Series VII (1997)


Tikka To Ride

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!

Stoke Me a Clipper

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: Rimmer, don't take this the wrong way, but how could you be the next Ace? I mean, you're a gutless, spineless, gormless, directionless, neurotic, underachieving, snivelling, cowardly pile of smeg. No offence. But, get real, man. Most eunuchs have got more balls than you.

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 knave's head on a silver platter.
Lister (of Smeg): Hey, steady!
AR medieval King: Then disembowel him and feed his innards to the crows.

crowd cheers

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.

Duct Soup

Lister: To pee or not to pee, that is the question.

Kochanski: One more time.. And you get this, d'you hear? Don't think I don't mean it. One more time, just one more..



Kochanski: What did I tell you, I told you.. Didn't I tell you? How many times have I told you? Right... What was the last one? Nureek, so the next one will be a Rutut, then the one after that will be a Hununger.. Four Seconds, Three Seconds Two Seconds...



Kochanski: Now Hununger.


Kochanski: No that's wrong? You've gone out of sequence! Nureek, Rutut, Hununger! What wrong with you!


Kochanski: If you're gonna keep me up all night, just do it right okay!


Kochanski: Squeelookle? Where did squeelookle come from? He's New!

Kryten: Oh my goodness, it's Princess Leia. Mr Skywalker went that way mam.

Kochanski: What?!

Kryten: It's nearly 1am mam, what are you doing up?

Kochanski: Looking for someone to kill, care to volunteer?

Kryten: Oh.. can't sleep?

Kochanski: Have you ever listened to those clapped out old pipes? Nureeking, then Rututting and just when you're expecting them to nureek again, they squeelookle! It's enough to make a perfectly sane person crazy!!

Krysten: It's quite amazing the number of people those pipes have driven to very brink of psychosis. Mr Lister spent the night in there once and he ended up trying to suffocate himself to death with an onion sandwich.

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?



[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? Do you think I even enjoy breathing in on this ship?! 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.

Beyond A Joke


[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! (He fires, completely destroying the gazebo) Is anyone still unclear as to the supper situation? No? Excellent!
Lister: Didn't know robots got PMT!

Lister: It's nice, Kryts, really nice.
Kochanski: It's really great!
Lister: In fact it's better than nice, it's fantastic!
Kochanski: Isn't it great!
Lister: It's really great!
Kochanski: It's really really great!
Cat: Are we eating the same stuff?
Kryten: I don't know why I make the effort? No one appreciates the hours I put into food prep. My fingers are practically worn down to the exoskeleton!
Lister: Is there any Ketchup?
Kryten: Any what?!
Lister: Ketchup, I thought it could do with a bit of ketchup, just a dollop...
Lister: Ketchup?!
Kochanski: Oh my god..
Kryten: You want Ketchup?!
Lister: Emmm... Brown not tomato, Brown. It's not like I've got no class?
Kryten: With Lobster? You want brown ketchup?!
Lister: It's really nice Kryts, but you know me. I just thought it could do with a bit of a pep up...
Kryten: I can't believe it... I simply cannot B...! (His head explodes)
Cat: Oh well done bud! Now we'll have to do the washing up.
Kochanski: He's literally blown his top. Cat, can you go and get a spare head?
Cat: How come I have to do everything around here? I can't get a second to myself. Cat do this, Cat do that. What am I, a dog?!

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?


Kryten: (narrating) Last week, on Red Dwarf... something terrible happened to Mr. Lister's arm!


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.

Red Dwarf: Series VIII (1999)


Back in the Red I

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.

Back in the Red II

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.

Back in the Red III

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! [Lister burys his face in the table and starts hitting himself in the back of his head] 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.
Lister: I'm gonna kill him!
Rimmer: 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 chromosone to share between them!
Lister: Smeg. It gets worse as well.
Rimmer: (laughing) Worse! Go on!
Lister: I've signed you up too. I forged your signature. I signed everyone up! Cat, Kryten, Kris...
Rimmer: No way. No way am I becoming a Canary!
Lister: (part from a deleted scene) Too late, tweety-pie, there's your I.D badge and uniform!

Captain Hollster: [Briefing 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.

Krytie TV

[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, you're right, man, I'm not thinking straight. He'd be to busy organising his funeral wouldn't he? What's happened to him?
Rimmer: Somthing catastrophic. Hideous. He's found your guitar in Starbug's wreckage and is sending it here.
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: I didn't think you thought I was THAT bad.
Rimmer: Didn't you get a clue that time I tried to insert it in you?
Lister: You would've had a better chance if you started with the neck end.

[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: And now, I'm going to stare at a cracked floor tile. [He does so. The other inmates yell in displeasure.]
Kill Crazy: What's he doing that for?!
Kryten: Remember: Shower Night is a Pay-Per-View event. Start filling those buckets!
[Men in "Krytie TV" t-shirts approach the inmates with buckets. The inmates put cans of beer, cigarettes and other items in the buckets.]
Rimmer: I don't believe this! He's running it like a business! There's even a bloke there selling ice creams!
Lister: Never mind him. Now. We got to go RIGHT NOW.
Rimmer: I'm going, I'm going.
Kryten: And now, I'm going to get close and personal with one of the showers, Miss Kristine Kochanski!
[Rimmer and Lister stop as soon as they hear this and slowly turn round.]
Rimmer: Fancy a choc-ice?
[They sit down. Lister pushes another inmate's head out the way.]

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. If that doesn't scare her off, nothing will.
Rimmer: Have you been going through my things?

Pete I

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.

Hollister: Seven hours. Do you know how long that is? I couldn't remove my shorts until after midnight. When I wanted a leak I had to do a handstand on the toilet seat. I stopped the lift doors from closing, I wasn't even catching a lift!

Pete II

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.

Kochanski: Kryten, do you realise what this means?
Kryten: No, ma'am.
Kochanski: It means you're a real man.
Kryten: It does? Why?
Kochanski: Because now, like all men, you have absolutely no control over your penis.

(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!

Only the Good...

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?

Mr Ackerman: You're drunk.
Lister: Drunk shir? No, sir.
Rimmer: No. No. No.
Mr Ackerman: Who fancies a kebab?
Rimmer and Lister together : Oh yeah!
Lister: Smeg! He's tricked us. (Rimmer collapses) Must've been the cherry trifle we had for lunch sir. Told him not to go back for seconds. (Snores)
Mr Ackerman: Call the medi bay. we need two stomach pumps. Super suck.

Red Dwarf: Back to Earth (2009)


Part One

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.

Part Two

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.

Part Three

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.

Driving with Kochanski, Lister stops Carbug abruptly and walks into woods
Hallucination Kochanski: Where are you going?
Lister: I have to leave and get you back.
Hallucination Kochanski: The real me? You'll never get me, I'm way out of your league!
Lister: I thought that too, but I was wrong.
Hallucination Kochanski: You were right.
Lister: Nah, I'm pretty cool. I don't take any smeg. And even though I'm disgusting, sometimes I can be quite brave.
Hallucination Kochanski: You'll never get me.
Lister: Yeah, I will.

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.

Red Dwarf: Series X (2012)



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!

Fathers & Suns

Lister: Who needs a denti-bot anyway, man? Half a bottle of GELF hooch, can't feel a thing now...anywhere. Starting to worry, 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.

Kryten: According to the note, he's gone back to 23AD so he can "trash his reputation so this Christianity thingth never taketh off-ffff-ffff-ffff-ffffth"
Lister: What? No Christianity? 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

Dear Dave

Kryten: 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].

The Beginning

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!

Lecturer Rimmmer: Arnold, I’m not your father.
Rimmer: But that's impossible. It's not true.
Lecturer Rimmer: 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!

Red Dwarf: Series XI (2016)



Kryten: Perhaps that person we saw is a different version of Mr. Rimmer from an alternative dimension.
Rimmer: So if he dies, not the end of the world.
Kryten: Or perhaps he's a clone of Mr. Rimmer produced somehow from his DNA.
Rimmer: Again, if he dies, not the end of the world.
Kryten: Or perhaps that man is you, sir, a you seized from the future and taken back into the past.
Cat: Again, if he dies, not the end of the world!

Harmony: This is the capacitor. The cops get their hands on this, we're deader than Galileo's theory of tides.

Cop: How dense do you think I am?
Harmony: You really wanna know? Just divide your mass by your volume.


Lister: Mmm (enjoys an ice cream cone in the top bunk as Rimmer lies in the lower bunk).
Rimmer: Who eats ice cream in bed?
Lister: Ah ah ah (ice cream plops on the floor) No complainin'. And no complainin' about not being able to complain about not complainin'.

Rimmer: You know what the difference is between you and me?
Lister: I can't store hand luggage up me nostrils.

Lister: Smeg happens Rimmer, you just have to roll with it.
Rimmer: I've been rolling in smeg my whole damn life Lister. You don't need to lecture me about smeg rolling!

Cat: I got it! I got it! The inventor guy I'm like, begins with R!
Lister: Who?
Cat: Archimedes!

Give & Take

Asclepius: [Singing a twisted version of Row, Row, Row Your Boat] Slow, slow, slow your blood, gently as you breath. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is such a scream.

Rimmer: Ah, I thought you might be here!
Snacky: How could I be of service, sir?
Rimmer: I'd quite like to see you with regard to your psychiatric skills!
Snacky backs away nervously.
Rimmer: [Blissfully unaware of Snacky's nervousness] I've got some issues with my father, who I recently discovered wasn't my father. Also I've got some issues with my mother, who very sadly, is my mother.

Officer Rimmer

Lister: Okay, okay, we got pictures coming through.
The display turns on, revealing the bio-printed Captain Edwin Herring, who unfortunately has his face on-top of his head following a printer jam.
Captain Herring: This is Captain Edwin Herring of the S.S. Nautilus, can you read me? Over.
Rimmer: Copy, Nautilus! But there's something wrong with our video feed. From our end you look like a hideous 19th century circus freak.
Cat: Bud! You look like you're wearing a toupée made of face!
Lister: Yeah, one look at you and even the Elephant Man would wanna jump in his mum and dad's bed!
Captain Herring: The bio-printer jammed, it's faulty. My face has been printed on the top of my head. Any advice?
Cat: Yeah, don't wear a hat!
Captain Herring: What's my position? Obviously, it's difficult to see.

Cat: What about your escape pods? Maybe use one of those!
Captain Herring: Too late, they've escaped. That's what happens when we put machines on artificial intelligence - they just look after number one.
Rimmer: Perhaps you should print some more of your crew, sir! Get assistance!
Captain Herring: I've just told you my bio-printer's faulty you cretin. My visuals are down... what's your name crewman?
Rimmer: Dave Lister, sir!
Captain Herring: Don't speak again Lister, understand?
Rimmer: Yes, sir!

Cat: Hey, what the hell is this?
Clone Rimmer in a barbershop quartet: We're the barbershop quartet!
Rimmer: Any ID?
The barbershop quartet of cloned Rimmers gather in a horizontal line and begin to sing.
Rim, Rim, Rimmerdy, Rim, Rim,
Rim, Rim, Rimmerdy, Rim
Rim, Rim, Rimmerdy, Rim, Rim,
Rim, Rim, Rimmerdy, Rim
Mr. Rimmer! We are what we seem! (Rim, Rim, Rim, Rim)
The cutest quartet, that you've ever seen! (Rim, Rim, Rim, Rim)
We got four mouths! A duet times two! (Rim, Rimmerdy, Rim)
This barbershop quartet is singing for you!
Rimmer: [To Lister and Cat] Now that, is entertainment! [To the barbershop quartet] In you go!


Sparks suddenly fly within the cockpit as the alarm begins to ring.
Lister: What the smeg was that?
Kryten: Its the EM boosters. Of course! Butler, the damn fool, he didn't realize that unlike the Nova-3, all our boards have universal linkage!
Lister: Meaning?
Kryten: The engines are gonna burnout, sir! He'll look utterly stupid!
Lister: So does that mean we'll gonna crash?
Kryten: How stupid is he gonna look then!
Lister: Yeah, but say we die!
Kryten: Even better!
Lister: Is there no way we can land and repair?
Kryten: Well, we could. But why should we help Butler out?
Lister: Kryten!
Kryten: Oh, my jealousy chip's overloading, sir! Return to sane mode! [Computer sounds emit from Kryten] Of course we should land!

Can of Worms

[After Cat has hidden his Polymorph children from the rest of the crew]
Lister: Well we have to narrow down the search somehow.
Rimmer: Got an idea! Turn off all the heat in the ship apart from in the diesel decks, so it'll drive him down there!
Lister: And then what?
Kryten: Track them down undetected!
Lister: They are Polymorphs! They feed off emotions, they will sense us!
Rimmer: Not if one of us has got no emotions, as they've had them all removed!
Lister: [Confused] Eh?
Rimmer: Listy, if you have a personality tuck to remove all your emotions, we'll sorted!
Lister: That stupid tuck machine, why me?
Rimmer: Kryten is the only one who knows how to operate it, so it can't be him. [Kryten nods in agreement] It can't be me, obviously. That leaves you!
Lister: Why can't it be you?
Rimmer: Don't interrupt.

Red Dwarf: Series XII (2017)



Lister: Moonbase coming up on our starboard side, what is this place Krytes?
Kryten: Mmh, according to the ident, it's a United America scientific research station.
Rimmer: United America? Who's that?
Kryten: Well, at the end of the 23rd century, America attempted to bring peace to the world by asking every nation on Earth to sign a peace treaty. Any nation that refused, they invaded. Now, a war ensued that was called, 'The War Against War'! Those countries that went to war, because they were so against war that they were prepared to go to war to fight in a war against war, called themselves, United America!

Lister: This evil cure Kryten, any idea on who they tested it on?
Rimmer: You think there might be wall-to-wall crazies in here? Running around rioting, screaming, and stabbing people?
Lister: You make it sound like my old school!
Rimmer: I want all the bazookoids, safetys off, ready to fire.
Kryten: All the bazookoids are back on Red Dwarf, sir.
Rimmer: [Sighing] Have we got any guns with us?
Kryten: Just your staple gun, sir.
Dramatic zoom in on Rimmer.
Rimmer: Fill her up!

Hitler: It's because I'm Hitler, isn't it?

Lister: Ah! So you can't go anywhere, without us!
Professor Telford: I only need one of you, [Aims gun at the crew] the rest of you are going to die! [To Cat] You!
Cat: Who, me?
Professor Telford: You have no loyalty to them, a Cat has no fidelity to anyone but himself. Join me!
Lister: I don't care what the damn scan says, we're the Posse! [Begins to perform the 'Boys from the Dwarf' gang signal, with Kryten, Rimmer, and Cat following] Boys from the Dwarf!
Cat: Yeah!
Lister: Noones changing sides here!
Cat: Nu-huh!
Profressor Telford: [To Cat] I'll give you anything that you want!
Cat: Sounds good!
Cat walks across the room and stands next to Telford.
Lister: [Shocked] Cat man!

Lister: I'll give you anything that your heart desires, plus a special secret surprise, if you join us!
Cat: [Excited] I love secret surprises!
Cat excitedly jumps across the room and stands next to the crew again.
Professor Telford: They're not going to be giving you anything since pretty soon they'll gonna be dead! In fact let me prove it to you by killing them one-by-one!
Cat: No wait! I'm with you! But I get to do it! [Becomes stonefaced]
Cat slowly walks across the room back to Telford, who cautiously aims the gun at Cat.
Professor Telford: Can I trust you? Can I? [Aims gun right at Cat's head] Really?
Cat: I'm a psychopath, ain't I? You and me both! What more do you need?
Telford takes out a laser pistol from his back-pocket and hands it to Cat.
Cat takes the pistol, and shoots Telford in the face killing him instantly.


Cat: [On television monitor] Hey, bud! It's me! How you doing with that shirt?
Kryten: Coming right up, sir.
Cat: [On television monitor] My ass is freezing here! I got six nipples you can hang mugs on!
Kryten: I'm seconds away, sir.
The television monitor turns off and quickly back on showing Rimmer in a corridor.
Rimmer: [On television monitor] Kryten, I'm on B-deck, and it doesn't appear to have been mopped in at least two days. I can hardly see my face in it!
Kryten: [Whispering to himself] A blessing, some would say. [Now speaking directly] I'm on it right now, sir.
The television monitor turns off and quickly back on showing Lister lying on a couch.
Lister: [On television monitor] Kryten, when you get a chance, could you grab us a beer?
Camera reveals Kryten and Lister in the same room.
Kryten: Sir, I'm rather busy right now! Could you possibly get it yourself?
Lister: Fine.
Lister leans over and takes out a beer from the mini-fridge right next to him.

The black-clad mechanoids take Lister, Rimmer, and Cat away.
Wind: [Speaking to Kryten] Not you, my friend.
Kryten: My crewmates, where are you taking them?
Wind: To face justice. We are the Mechanoid Intergalactic Liberation Front.
Kryten: [Bewildered] MILFs?

Kryten Cat: I've got a registered trademark where my wing-dang-doodle used to be!

The Kryten-ifyed Lister, Rimmer, and Cat, after dismantling each other to get through the locked gate, finish reassembling and head-off.
Kryten Lister: Come on, let's go!
Kryten Rimmer pushes the nearby alarm button alerting their escape.
Kryten Lister: What are you doing?!
Kryten Rimmer: I'm sounding the alarm.
Kryten Lister: Change my head and call me Stanley! Whatever for?
Kryten Rimmer: I like being a mechanoid. I don't have to become an officer anymore, compete with my brothers. Envy, ambition, that acid ball of resentment I carried around with me the whole time; it's gone.
Kryten Lister: You need to get your neuroses back!
Kryten Rimmer: But sir, I don't want them back.
Kryten Lister: They're what makes you, you!
Kryten Rimmer: I want to be a mechanoid programmed to serve. Sometimes, when I was young, I'd sit for hours staring at our fish tank feeling envious.
Kryten Cat: You wanted to be a fish tank?!
Kryten Rimmer: I wanted to be a fish. They had food, a small rock to swim in and out of, they didn't have a care in the world.
Kryten Cat: That's 'cause I wasn't there!

The MILFs are preparing to inaugurate Kryten as an official member of their alliance.
Kryten: I pledge my allegiance to the Mechanoid Intergalactic Liberation Front!
Kryten is given a black beret by Wind.
Wind: From this day forth, you shall be known as -
Kryten Lister runs in.
Kryten Lister: Kryten! What are you doing?!
Kryten: Well, I'm becoming free, sir. I mean, I'm becoming free of you over there! I see now that you never cared for me. I was merely used to do your bidding! Well, no more! As I'm no longer your slave bot!
Kryten Lister: Kryten, don't you see? You've been brainwashed. You were never a slave bot!
Kryten: Then what was I?
Kryten Lister: Lots of things! You were our science officer, our cook, my mum, and most of all, my friend. And you were all those things because you chose to be, Kryten. Not 'cause we made you. Kryten, you're no MILF! You're one of the boys from the Dwarf! [Kryten Lister does the Boys from the Dwarf gang signal, but with only one hand due to the other being cut off earlier]
Several other MILFs led by Areto, including Kryten Rimmer and Kryten Cat now completely brainwashed, march into the room.
Areto: There he is! Seize him!
Kryten Lister: They keep mech slaves in the engine room! They power the ship. They're hypocrites!
Kryten turns to Wind with a shocked expression.
Wind: Someone has to do the grunt work! Surely you're not suggesting Mk. 3s should do it.
Kryten Lister: Mk. 3s! Mk. 2s! You're all the same!
Wind: We're 7.6 millimetres thinner. 10 grams lighter. Plus we come in this really cool matte finish.
All MILF soldiers: So cool!


Rimmer: Look, we're here to warn you that your ship is on a collision course with a very important moon called Planet Rimmer.
Crit Cop: I'm gonna let you off with a caution.
Cat: [To the crew] Caution?! How dumb is this guy? [To the Crit Cop] Hey! Lieutenant Asshole, If you don't move your dumb-ass spaceship, we're gonna be flatter than your wife's droopy-ass titties, capisce?
The Crit Cops takes out a taser and shoots Cat with it.

Crit Cop: You don't know what it was like before. Ship was a shambles. Everyone arguing, constantly choosing new captains. So they brought in the anti-criticism law to make people more tolerant.
Lister: But any smegger can see that society can't function like that.
Crit Cop: Yeah, but once they outlawed criticism, nobody could criticise the criticism law because it was illegal to criticise! Idiots! I just criticised something, didn't I? Oh, God, I've not done that for ages, that felt good! Oh! Criticising's great, isn't it?! Gives ya a real lift! [To Rimmer] I don't like your shoes, by the way. [To Kryten] Ah! What's the story with his head? Looks like something from that TV show, "When Circumcisions Go Wrong"!


Rimmer: As Second Technician and acting senior officer onboard the JMC registered mining ship, Red Dwarf, I have the privilege to advise that, you, Third Technician David Lister have been promoted.
Lister: Which makes me equal with you so now, you can't demote me! You totally screwed that one up, didn't you, Rimmer?
Rimmer: Have been promoted from Third Technician to Technician 2.5, making you under my authority by half a command point, still giving me the ability to demote you.
Lister: So demote me then, like I care.
Rimmer: Maybe I won't demote you.
Lister: Of course you will.
Rimmer: Feels good, doesn't it? Does your chest jut out that bit more? Do you feel a little bit taller?
Lister: I told you Rimmer. I. Don't. Care.
Rimmer: I bet your gran would be proud, if she knew.
Lister: [Face turns solemn] I know what you're trying to do here, Rimmer.
Rimmer: In that case you'll know all I want is for you to be the best person you can be. Maybe, then, you'll stop drinking and getting fatter!
Cat: Hey, that's not fair, he's not getting fatter. He's always been this fat!
Rimmer: You think I'm the bad guy in this, don't you? But, Lister, you're bright, you could go places, maybe even further than me.
Lister: Definitely further than you.
Rimmer: And it frustrates me no end to see you fritter it all away. And, here's another thing. Just imagine how proud your gran would be if she'd known you'd be promoted. Am I right?
Lister: Maybe.
Rimmer: [Repeating] Maybe?
Lister: All right, she'd have been made-up. She always told me that...
Rimmer: [Interrupting] You're demoted.

A political advertisement suddenly starts on the monitor.
Rimmer: [On the television] Tonight we look at the two contenders, statesman and war hero, Arnold J. Rimmer, and toilet droid Kryten 2X4B 523P.
Lister: [Watching] What's this?
Political Ad Narrator: A mechanoid is running for election, but do the electorate know this droid has a history of mental illness? The only survivor on the Nova-5, he tended a crew of skeletons believing them to be alive. He now wants to look after you. Do you mind he can't tell the difference between the living and the dead?
Cat: [On the television] You're only as good as your running mate. Has anyone taken a close look at Kryten's number two, David 'Dodgy Boy' Lister?
Lister: [Watching] You what?
Cat: [On the television] A man who served a jail term in stasis for smuggling unquarantined animals aboard a JMC mining ship? Major questions remain unanswered!

A political advertisement suddenly starts on the monitor.
Lister: [On the television] This infomercial comes to you on behalf of the Independent Future Party.
Political Ad Narrator: Arnold Rimmer, a man who wiped out the crew of Red Dwarf and killed himself, twice! Are you really going to put your life in this maniac's hands?
Lister: [On the television] Arnold Rimmer. Not fit. Not trusted. A no-good, double-dealing, cheating, slimy little smegger!
On the television, Kryten runs up next to Lister.
Kryten: That's enough, sir.
Lister: I got more, Kryten.
Kryten: [To the camera] I'm Kryten 2X4B 523P, and I approve this message!
Lister: I've got more!
Lister realizes the ad is over and smiles at the camera next to Kryten.


Kryten: [Singing a rendition of Happy Birthday to You] Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Mr. Lister! Happy birthday to you!
Lister: [Waking up from bed] Today?
Kryten: [Setting down a birthday cake] It's the big one, sir!
Lister: What, I'm thirty?
Kryten chuckles and lifts his arms indicating a higher number.
Lister: Forty?
Kryten chuckles and lifts his arms again.
Lister: Oh, what am I doing? I don't want to know! Don't want to know. Brain, I'm not listening. [Covering his ears and miming singing] La la la la la la la.
Kryten: The years pass, but with them comes the soothing balm of new found grace and maturity.

The program on the monitor finishes updating and the JMC logo is replaced with that of M-Corp along with a melodic tune accompanying it.
Lister: M-Corp?
Aniter appears on the screen.
Aniter: Your company has been bought by M-Corp. You probably have a lot of questions. Who is M-Corp? What do we do? Let's find out together. M-Corp is the biggest multinational conglomerate in known space. We lead, we innovate using our patented M-Corp port technology. Your ship will now be stocked with a variety of M-Corp products to elevate your lifestyle in space.
Several white crates marked with the M-Corp logo materialize onboard the ship.
Aniter: M-Corp. We love looking after you!

Rimmer: Anything on M-Corp?
Kryten: They bought Earth in the late 26th century.
Rimmer: Bought Earth? Bought what exactly?
Kryten: They bought the entire planet, sir. And everything on it. Including fixtures and fittings. Oceans, countries, animals, houses, curtains, you name it. They even bought all the stuff nobody likes. Maggots, quicksand, even the American chocolate.
Cat: Where'd they get all the dough from?
Kryten: M-Corp owned all the electricity and oil and gas and wind. Even the rain water.
Rimmer: But the rain water belongs to Earth. To everyone and everything on it. My God, I've turned into a hippy.
Cat: And the Earth dudes just stood around and let this happen?
Kryten: Well, by then, M-Corp had introduced a law to tax thinking.
Cat: A Think Tax?
Rimmer: [Points to Cat] You'd have got a rebate every year.

Lister: There's no way I'm buying anything off you guys! Ever.
Lister reacts to a sharp pain in his stomach.
Aniter: Would you like to buy some pain pills, Dave?
Lister: No.
Lister reacts to another sharp pain.
Aniter: We can dock it directly from your account.
Lister: [In pain] All right, fine! Quick.
The sound of a coin click plays as the pills appear.
Lister: Water! I need a glass of water!
Aniter: That will be 40 dollar-pounds, Dave.
Lister: [In disbelief] For water?
Aniter: For the glass. The water is a further 400 dollar-pounds.


Rimmer is sat in the sleeping quarters writing as the Cat enters.
Cat: Hey, hey! Officer Smegski!
Cat sits alongside Rimmer.
Cat: How's it going, non bud!
Rimmer: I'm busy, don't disturb me. Last time you disturbed me, I was doing the safety check, and I failed to notice the diesel decks were flooded.
Cat: All I said was, "Help, I'm on fire."

Rimmer: [Looking at scanner screen] What is that?
Kryten: It appears that some kind of anomaly has penetrated our universe.
Rimmer: I hate people who use the word anomaly. They think they're so cool. "Oh look, here's an anomaly anomalling away. I'm really cosmologically on-trend because I know what anomaly means." It's just a fancy-schmancy word for Weird.
Kryten: Sir, something weird has penetrated our universe which appears to have caused a giant lesion across the space-time continuum. Is it okay to say "lesion" sir or would you prefer "cut"?
Rimmer: Lesions, cuts, they're both the same to me. It's people who say "continuum" that I can't stand.

Red Dwarf: The Promised Land (2020)

Lister: I'm a nobody really. Come on guys, back me up here.

[All at once]

Kryten: Well, he's a nobody.
Cat: He's less than nobody!
Rimmer: An absolute zero.

Rimmer: Act like a God? You scarcely mastered human.

Rimmer: [close to tears] You don't need me. I'm not sure you ever did. I don't exist. What's the point of me?
Lister: [desperately] Rimmer, we're the posse. We're the "Boyz" from the Dwarf. We're like the Four Musketeers. D'Artagnan, Porthos, Athos... and the other one. Rimmer, you're the other one.
Rimmer: I'm the other one?
Lister: You do all the stuff that the other one does.
Rimmer: And what's that, then?
Lister: Other one stuff!
Rimmer: Other one stuff? What's other one stuff?
Lister: All the stuff that the others haven't done that the other one does.
Rimmer: I'm pointless.
Lister: No you're not.



Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers (1989)

Rimmer: Oh, great. Not only am I dead, I don't exist, either! Thanks a lot, God!

0.57 seconds before he expired, Rimmer realised he was going to die. His life didn't flash before his eyes. He didn't think of his parents, or his brothers, or his home. He didn't think of the failed exams or the wasted time in the stasis booths. He didn't even think of his one brief affair with Yvonne McGruder, the ship's female boxing champion.
What he did think of was a bowl of soup. A bowl of gazpacho soup.
Then he died.
Then everyone died.

Kryten was teriffic. A real godsend. Provided all you needed was a plateful of triangular-shaped cucumber sandwiches with the crust removed and a pot of lemon tea. If, on the other hand, you needed someone to scrape uranium ore free of waste and pack it into sealed cases, all you got was another plateful of cucumber sandwiches and a second pot of lemon tea.

Better Than Life (1990)

Talkie Toaster: You're senile.
Holly: [Unsuccessfully hiding his expression of astonishment] You what?
Talkie Toaster: You've got to be. Why would a huge mainframe computer with a fifteen zillion gigabyte capacity and a projected IQ in excess of six thousand, want a novelty talking toaster for companionship, if he wasn't off his trolley? You've gone computer senile, haven't you?

Rimmer: Spaghettification. Let me guess. I can see only two options: one -- due to the bizarre effects of the intense gravitational pull, and because we're entering a region of time and space where the laws of physics no longer apply, we all of us inexplicably develop an irresistible urge to consume vast amounts of a certain wheat-based Italian noodle conventionally served with Parmesan cheese; or two -- we, the crew, get turned into spaghetti. I have a feeling we can eliminate option one.

The funeral of the last remaining member of the human race was neither a solemn nor a sombre affair. Quite the opposite. Lister's favourite dance track, "Born to Brutalize," thumped out of his old wax-blaster with such force it shook the coffin. Kryten, Rimmer, and the Cat stood around the metal casket, wearing green Day-glo Deely-boppers, battery-propelled revolving bow-ties and yellow fishing waders, precisely as Lister had requested in his Last Will and Testament.

Last Human (1995)

GELF Regulator: He destroyed the entire asteroid of Cyrius 3 and looted and plundered his way across the entire belt. He destroyed a Starhopper which served Ariel 2 and he was responsible for many deaths, including my own.
Kryten: [Repeating slowly] He was responsible for many deaths, including your own?
GELF Regulator: Yes.
Kryten: He killed you, my lord?
GELF Regulator: I'm afraid he did.
Kryten: [Kryten shakes his head] I'm not sure I understand, sir.
GELF Regulator: Does anyone? What possesses a creature to go on such a wicked orgy of murder and mayhem?

He smiled at her and she smiled back as she placed the bacon on the end of the fork and started to feed him. He felt kind of stupid, like a little boy again. Small and helpless. He started to remember his foster parents.
Tom and Beth Thornton.
Tom with his round, sad spaniel face and terrible posture, and Beth with her ugly smile and sickly perfume. He could smell it now. It nauseated him. He could hear Old Prune Face's laugh; the terrible, terrible braying laugh that could have sawn down Canadian redwoods. And then he started to remember the beatings with the brown clothesbrush. Now he could see Old Prune Face's eyes and the darkness that descended over her when she was 'nettled'. He could feel the rips of pain that gouged through his body, ploughing furrows through his flesh. He could hear his own screams soaked in saliva, gurgling in his throat.

Rimmer: Your mother, uh, she was a woman. A very remarkable woman. It can't have been easy bringing up a boy on geo-mapper's wages, getting you through college and into the Academy. Some people, and I used to count myself among them, believe there's a class system and someone like you - who doesn't have a completely pukka background - would never be admitted into such high-ranking company. That's bullshit. Your mother went out and proved that. She got you through college, she got you through the Star Fleet and now here you are, an SCM. She's a remarkable woman, a truly courageous, remarkable woman.
McGruder: It's you who were my inspiration, sir.
Rimmer: [Rimmer shakes his head] You owe everything to her. Everything. She really made you into something. Something you should be proud of.

Backwards (1996)

Every Good Boy Deserves Favour.
Arnold J. Rimmer, age seven and almost a quarter, is attempting to concentrate on his music notation lesson. For reasons that elude his young mind, it is vitally, vitally important for him to master the piano. More important than anything. More important, even, than concealing from his brothers the secret location of his Dead Spiders and Other Wriggly Things collection. Life-or-death important. He must commit to memory the names of the notes on the musical staves, E, G, B, D, F, using the time-honoured mnemonic:
Every Good Boy Deserves Favour.
He's concentrating as hard as he can. His little face is bunched up like a constipated pig at a truffle festival. But he's got a problem, young Arnold has. And this is the problem: he knows he's going to fail. He has no ear for music. He has no talent for the piano. But then again, he has no talent for anything. The only thing he is good at is letting his parents down. That's easy for Arnold J. Rimmer age seven and almost a quarter. It's a breeze.
Every Good Boy Disappoints Father.

Cat: I don't get it. We're supposed to be afraid of a bunch of dooh-dooh brains like eraser-tipped pencil-head here? [Cat nods at Kryten]
Kryten: Begging your pardon, sir, they are not mechanoids, they are agonoids.
Cat: What's the difference?
Kryten: Well, the basic difference is that a mechanoid would never crack open a human's ribcage and use his right lung as a bedpan.

Pizzak'Rapp: I am Piece of Crap, welcome to... hell.


Wikipedia has an article about: