Red Dwarf

As we stand here this morning

in an unknown galaxy on the outer reaches of the solar system

and I claim this planetoid, rich in Helium 7,

on behalf of the Jupiter Mining Corporation,

it is only fitting we remember the generations that came before us.

It is to their memory, their greatness, their infinite glorious accomplishments,

that I humbly name this moon "Rimmer".

In the same spirit of benevolence,

I've also graciously agreed to lend my name to the star this moon orbits,

which from this moment on, will be known as "Sunny Rim".

Gentlemen, to Rimmer,

a moon rich in Helium 7, the most valuable gas in the universe.

To Rimmer... so full of gas.

Sirs, there appears to be

some kind of solar storm coming in from the west?

You should engage skedaddle mode.

But the Helium 7. We need to mine it.

- (RADIO CRACKLES) There's no time, sir.

But Helium 7's incredibly scarce.

It's rarer than an ungroped bottom at the BBC in the 1970s.

It's worth a fortune.

If we ever get back to Earth in the 23rd century,

I'll get a finder's fee.

One hour, that's all I'm asking.

Bud, can't you see,

if you're hanging around here when that storm's brewing

you're gonna get wiped.

I'm begging you, stay!

I'll still be rich beyond my wildest dreams just with this.

Don't worry, I won't change.

And that's the tragedy of it.

Check this. That's no solar storm. What the hell is it?

It looks like a big, wibbly-wobbly tidal wave thing

and it's heading straight for us.

I want a full Space Corp verified diagnostic on that thing.

- Already printing, sir. - Well? What is it?

It says, "It's a big, wibbly-wobbly tidal wave thing

"and it's heading straight for us."

Here it comes!

What the hell just happened?

People have had acid trips that have made more sense than that.

I've had directions from drunken Scots men

that have made more sense than that.

Any theories?

I believe the ship may have been hit

by a temporal wash from a time wave, sir.

It's been what by a what from a what?

Much as a tsunami is caused by a large displacement of water in the sea bed,

a time wave is created by an imploding black hole,

causing space time to contort into a series of waves.

Much as a what causes a what into a series of whats?

Now, when the wave moves forward,

artefacts from the past can be washed up into the present

and when the wave withdraws,

artefacts from the present can be swept back into the past.

That sounds like a free ride out of here. Show me where to stand.

Sir, whoever is hit

is likely to be swept in to an uninhabitable part of deep space.

Quick! Show him where to stand.

We've got to avoid this wave at all costs.

- How long before the next one? - Impossible to predict.

- So what do we do if this wave shows up? - We'll have to outrun it.

Maybe if we lost some weight. jettisoned some unnecessary cargo.

Go stand in the airlock and leave the rest to me.

Wait, check this in vector four.

There's a ship just shown up on the scans.

The SS Enconium. They're from 24th century Earth

and their ship possesses a faster than light drive.

Something's wrong.

They're locked on to a crash course

straight into the heart of Planet Rimmer.

Are you serious? That's terrible. Is Planet Rimmer going to be okay?

The impact is likely to cause an explosion

which could well ignite the Helium 7.

And kill Planet Rimmer?

- And kill everything in this vicinity, - Including Planet Rimmer?

Including everything!

We need to board that ship and stop it crashing.

And save Planet Rimmer.

- And save the crew. - And Planet Rimmer.

This mechanoid is reversing.

This mechanoid is reversing.

How long before we dock, Kryts?

Just thirty minutes, sir.

So I thought now might be a good time

to share the intel I've uncovered on the Enconium.

It appears they have some rather strange laws.

Strange how?

On their ship, criticism is illegal.

A ship free of criticism, what a place that must be.

A world where no one is blamed or rebuked

and no one gets mocked or ridiculed.

That's what they say, but they'll never hold out after they meet you.

You screw up and no one tells you. What's the good in that?

That's easy for you to say, Lister,

but how would you feel if you were ridiculed every day,

wedgied every night,

and sometimes even have your head shoved down the toilet

and the chain pulled?

But we've stopped doing that now.

Six years old, my parents had to send me to a different prep school

so I could get my confidence back.

Games weren't competitive at St. Trembles.

So what did you do on Sport's Day?

Sports Day, 100 metres, you could run in any direction you wanted.

Or paint a picture or stay at home and watch TV.

And everyone got a "You're Really Special" trophy

and a party bag.

Rimmer, you've got to roll with it.

You get knocked down, you get back up again. You slug it out.

If I'd have got upset with every bit of criticism I ever got,

where do you think I'd be now?

Not single, not podgy,

and probably not doomed to roam deep space with a terrible haircut.

Sirs, please.

When we board the Enconium,

we must remember to respect their laws and not criticise each other.

How long we gotta hold out?

- Just an hour, sir. - A whole hour?

In that case you'd better pack earplugs and six rolls of duct tape.

I wonder why the Enconium made criticism illegal?

Well, according to their data banks,

they believe when people criticise, they feel esteem-inflating superiority

which causes the pleasure chemical, dopamine, to be released in the brain.

And dopamine's bad?

Too much dopamine is like taking cocaine, sir.

It overexcites the receptors between brain cells,

causing hyperactivity and engorged self-worth.

So people who criticise get high on criticism?

It seems they become addicted,

needing to criticise more and more to produce the same original high.

This explains so much.

Junkie.

But criticism can be good, can't it?

I mean, it forces people to become better.

Oh, not always, sir. Take you.

What about me?

Well, as a guitarist you've been criticised, belittled, decried,

vilified, panned and slammed your whole life.

- And your point is? - You still utterly suck, sir.

No, I don't!

I mean, okay, fair play. Back in the day I was a bit of a tone-deaf plucker,

but I took that criticism on board,

I dedicated myself to getting better,

and now, so long, Plucker, hello, Davy "Three Chords."

"Journey to the Stars"

Aw, look at that one.

Have they got little kids on-board as well?

By First Lieutenant Edward Moore, aged 34 and a half.

So everything these guys do, no matter how garbage,

gets to go on the wall?

Just like at St. Trembles.

And the Tate Modern.

The frames aren't even straight. I hate that.

Hey guys, check this.

...power of the moon you will learn that we are all part of the tree of life

and on the tree you are a fruit.

Let me remind you, gentlemen,

what we're all thinking right now is illegal here.

My friends.

A duct tape on stand by, sirs.

Welcome to our ship.

Now, my name is Ziggy Briceman.

Apologies for not returning your handshake,

but our communication system is being repaired

and the hairdressers who are carrying out the work

haven't quite determined what's wrong yet.

Oh, also, our lifts are being serviced by the catering department,

so therefore to the stairs.

Wouldn't it be better if your lifts were serviced by the lift service people?

Oh, unfortunately, they're all too busy working in the hospital,

trying to figure out why no one's getting better.

This way, my friends.

I don't know if you're aware,

but you've been washed up three million years into deep space

and you're on a crash course straight into a Helium 7 moon.

I love your accent.

It's is cuter than a kitten with a toilet roll.

Now, let me take you along to our diner

and then I'm gonna hunt down our Captain. Okay?

This way.

What the hell's he doing?

Best guess, the Enconium crew are encouraged to express themselves

without fear of scorn or ridicule.

Bring back scorn and ridicule, that's what I say.

Sir, please.

Didn't we talk about respecting other cultures?

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Hey, bud, you should stick around.

The Om song could go platinum here.

I love the atmosphere. It's so relaxing.

No one cares if you're right or wrong, good or bad.

Maybe they're on to something.

I mean, take me, back in the day,

I misrepaired a drive plate and killed over a thousand people.

Now, in our culture that sort of thing is really frowned upon.

But here, you just move on.

Here's your coffee, sir. Be careful it's very, very hot.

Argh!

Whoops-a-daisy.