Red Dwarf

- Oh, Marnie. - Oh, my darling, don't.

This isn't the time for sadness,

it's a time for joy, for laughter. Don't you see?

Whatever this crazy old world throws at us now, it doesn't matter.

None of it.

Mamie, we can never be together again.

Oh, my darling, you're wrong.

We'll always be together.

It's just... We'll be apart.

Wasn't that just beautiful?

Oh, well recommended, sir.

Do you think they ever get back together again?

I don't know.

- Pardon? - —I don't know!

Wasn't it just wonderful, though, sir?

The way he sacrificed his career, his dreams,

everything, for the woman he loved.

I thought it was the worst pile of blubbery schoolgirl mush

I've ever been compelled to endure.

I consider it an insult to my backside

that it was forced to sit here growing carbuncles

through such putrid adolescent slush.

You didn't find it uplifting?

It wasn't in the least bit uplifting.

It was totally unbelievable.

Why would he give everything up for a woman he's never gonna see again?

Because she loved him, and he would have that forever.

Isn't that right, sir?

Personally, I thought it started well, but fell apart.

All that stuff with the ducks all getting into trouble, that was great.

Then it all went black and white and I fell asleep!

But, sir, that was the cartoon before the main programme.

Hang on, chaps, I've got a blip.

Quadrant 4, Sector 492.

I'm on to it right away, Holly.

Those kind of films really irritate me.

Just not realistic.

There isn't a man in the universe

who wouldn't have taken the job and to hell with the woman.

Total baloney.

Rimmer you said that about King Of Kings, the story of Jesus.

Well, it's true. A simple carpenter's son

who learns how to do magic tricks like that and doesn't go into show business?

Do any of us believe that even for a second?

He was supposed to be the son of God!

And when he was carrying that cross up the hill,

any normal, realistic bloke would have mule-kicked the guy in the left,

clobbered the one on the right,

and been over that green hill and far away

before you could say "Pontius Pilate."

Why do I feel that somehow you've missed the point?

I mean, whether you believe that stuff or not,

it's about a dude who sacrifices his life for love.

Not realistic. As if!

He's got no soul, the man. No soul.

Sirs, I think you should take a look at this.

Another vessel?

Too small. Maybe a missile.

Impact in 37 seconds!

Plotting random evasion course.

What? Am I the only sane one here?

Why don't we drop the defensive shields?

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.

Good point, well made.

Rimmer, what are you doing?

It's incredible. It's beautiful.

It's not registering on any scale.

Mass, velocity, molecular structure, all the readings are zero.

Sir, I'm picking up some kind of energy emission.

They've taken Mr Rimmer. Sir, they've taken Mr Rimmer.

Quick, let's get out of here before they bring him back!

I hope we didn't startle you.

Nirvanah Crane.

You touched me!

I can touch!

How is this possible?

This entire ship, its crew and everything on it, is computer-generated.

You're all holograms, even the ship?

—Salut! —Salut!

How big's the crew?

Just under 2,000. All top-flight personnel.

Hmm. What a ship.

Floor 3725, Sports and Sexual Recreation.

Sports and what?

Sex. Don't you have a sex deck on your ship?

No.

Well, what do you do when you want to have sex?

Well, we go for runs.

And watch gardening programmes on the ship's vid.

That's very bad for you.

Don't you ever feel tense or frustrated?

Well, it's gotten worse these last ten years or so, I can't deny it.

Extraordinary. It's quite different here.

In fact, it's a ship regulation

that we all have sexual congress at least twice a day.

It's a health rule.

Twice a day? That's more than some people manage in a lifetime!

I mean sad, lonely people.

But what happens if you don't have a partner?

If you don't have a partner?

Well, I mean, some people, sad, lonely people,

find that that people just aren't attracted to them in that kind of way.

I don't understand.

Here it is considered the height of bad manners

to refuse an offer of sexual coupling.

Well...

People have always complimented me on my good manners.

What a ship!

We discarded the concept of "family" in the 25th century,

when scientists finally proved

that all our hang-ups and neuroses are caused by our parents.

I knew it!

Families are disastrous for your mental health.

So are relationships. These are outmoded concepts for us.

But what about love? Surely people still fall in love?

We have developed beyond love, Mr Rimmer.

That is a short-term hormonal distraction

which interferes with the pure pursuit of personal advancement.

We are holograms. There is no risk of disease or pregnancy.

That is why in our society, we only believe in sex.

Constant, guilt-free sex.

Poor Mr Rimmer. I fear he is in great danger.

I'm trying to get them to handshake,

but they're not responding on any frequency.

Well, I say let's break out the laser cannons and give 'em both barrels.

An adroit suggestion, sir, with just two minor drawbacks...

Okay! Forget it!

There's nothing to shoot at. Look at the read-outs. Zero mass.

- Of course! A holoship. - A holoship?

The project was in its initial phase when I left the solar system.

Ships of no mass or volume, able to travel as super-light particles,

tachyons through wormholes and stargates,

crewed by holograms of great genius and bravery.

And they've taken Rimmer? He should fit in just perfectly.

Now I understand why they didn't bother with a handshake.

Holocrews are legendarily arrogant.

They despise stupidity wherever they see it, and they see it everywhere.

Hang on, I'm getting another energy emission.

Binks to Enlightenment. Have arrived on the derelict.

Confirm initial speculation.

There is absolutely nothing of any value or interest here.

It's one of the old Class 2 ship-to-surface vessels,

the very model, in fact,

that was withdrawn due to major flight design flaws.

Crew, three.

One Series 4000 mechanoid, almost burnt out.

Give it maybe three years. Nothing of salvageable value.

Ah, Felis sapiens,

bred from the domestic house cat and about half as smart.

Uh, no value in future study of this species.

What have we here? A human being, or a very close approximation.

Chronological age, mid twenties. Physical age, 47.

Grossly overweight, unnecessarily ugly,

otherwise would recommend it for the museum.

Apart from that of no value or interest.

Lister to Red Dwarf.

We have in our midst a complete smeg pot.

Brains in the anal region.

Chin absent, presumed missing.

Genitalia small and inoffensive,

of no value or interest.

Binks to Enlightenment. Evidence of primitive humour.

The human has knowledge of irony, satire and imitation.

With patient tuition, could maybe master simple tasks.

Lister to Red Dwarf.

Displays evidence of spoiling for a rumble.

Seems unable to grasp simple threats.

With careful pummelling,

could possibly be sucking tomorrow's lunch through a straw.

Binks to Enlightenment. The human is under the delusion

that he is somehow able to bestow physical violence to a hologram.

Lister to Red Dwarf.

The intruder seems to be blissfully unaware

that we have a rather sturdy holo-whip in the munitions cabinet,

and unless he wants his derriere minced like burger meat,

he'd better be history in two seconds flat.

Binks to Enlightenment. Recon mission complete, transmit.

With speed, Enlightenment. Quickly, please!

Captain, Mr Rimmer from the mining ship Red Dwarf.

Mr Rimmer. Oh, my word. It is one of the old Class 1 holograms.

I didn't realise that you guys were still around.

Captain Hercule Platini,

IQ 212. Number One.

Commander Natalina Pushkin, IQ 201.

Commander Randy Navaro, IQ 194.

Second Technician Arnold Rimmer, IQ unknown.

Captain, this is a magnificent ship.

So it should be, Mr Rimmer.

After all, it was designed to carry the hologrammatic cream of the Space Corps.

Every crew member is top gun in his or her field.

This is a ship, Mr Rimmer, of superhumans.

Which is why, Captain, I feel I could really belong here.

Are you serious?

Everything I want in my life is here on this ship.

I want to join you.

Ah, but, Mr Rimmer, you are not an officer.