18 MP3 Audio clips from Season 5 of Red Dwarf (1988)

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Kryten is in the cockpit when he spots something particularly disturbing on a collision course with Red Dwarf.

Kryten

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

Rimmer

Another vessel?

Lister

Too small. Maybe a missile.

Kryten

Impact in thirty-seven seconds.

Holly

Plotting random evasion course.

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, technically speaking, that's only one flaw but I thought it was such a big one, it was worth mentioning twice.

When Rimmer is suddenly kidnapped by teleporter, Kryten is quite alarmed. The others? Nah. Not quite so much.

Kryten

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

Cat

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

Poor Rimmer. He's been teleported to The Enlightenment, a holographic vessel upon which crew members are encouraged to have sex twice a day. Constant, guilt-free sex.

Crane

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.

BINKS is a hologram, beamed down to Red Dwarf on a reconnaissance mission. In LISTER, he's met his match.

Binks

What have we here? A human being, or a very close approximation. Chronological age: mid-twenties. Physical age: forty-seven. Grossly overweight, unnecessarily ugly, otherwise would recommend it for the museum. Apart from that of no value or interest.

[LISTER searches his pockets for a cigarette packet. He draws one cigarette out as an aerial and begins imitating BINKS]

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.

Binks

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

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

Binks to Enlightenment. The human is under the delusion that he is somehow able to bestow physical violence to a hologram.

Lister

Lister to Red Dwarf. The intruder seems to be blissfully unaware that we have a rather sturdy holowhip in the munitions cabinet. Unless he wants his derrière minced like burger meat, he'd better be history in two seconds flat!

Rimmer has finally lost his V-Card. He's wise in the ways of love. And the lucky lady? Crane. Who says something fairly ambiguous about his performance and... equipment.

Crane

You make love like a Japanese meal. Small portions but so many courses.

Kryten is the only one trying to convince Rimmer to stay. And with an argument like this one, he's not having much luck.

Kryten

Oh,Sir. I beg you to reconsider. If not for your sanity, you haven't even considered the moral implications of your decision. You will be joining a society where you will be compelled to have sex with beautiful, brilliant women twice daily, on demand. Now, am I really the only one here who finds that just a little bit tacky?

[LISTER and CAT are speechless]

Well, quite clearly I am!

Rimmer's decision is made. He's off. Leaving the veritable sausage-fest that is Red Dwarf in favour of daily sex with beautiful women on a perfect ship. Can't really blame him, can you?

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?

So, Rimmer got to "third base" at fifteen. Well, not quite, it seems. His hand wasn't where he thought it was.

Rimmer

Well, if you do know me, you'll know I'm the kind of rough-and-tumble, hardened Astro, ex-Marine type guy you do not trifle with.

Lister

No, you're not!

Rimmer

For the last time, I'm asking -

Lister

Fiona Barrington! Fifteen years of age. You got off with her in your Dad's greenhouse. You thought you got lucky but it turned out all the time that you had your hand in warm compost.

It's never a good thing when the Red Dwarf receives a visitor. It's usually very, very bad news indeed.

Holly

We've got a visitor.

Lister

What?

Holly

A pod arrived about twenty 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.

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

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. What are you trying to say to me, Holly?

Holly

I'm saying it might not be your night.

Rimmer has been kidnapped. He's tied, half naked and is being generously oiled by scantily-clad women. Your idea of heaven? Hmm. Don't think this is going to end well for poor Rimmer.

Rimmer

I'm a second technician in the Space Corps. I'm briefed to give you my name and number and nothing more. I don't know who you are or what you think you're playing at, but I'm not going to give you anything else. You can oil me all you like, you can use your tongues and your full sensual lips to caress my erogenous zones onto a plateau of sexual ecstasy. But I'll tell you now. This nut's not for cracking. However, far be it for me to change your game plan, if you absolutely insist on using erotic persuasion to achieve your devious ends, then so be it. Just have a large Quatrofamagio pizza with extra olives ready at the end.

As insults go, calling someone a, "dank tuft of rectal pubic hair" is certainly unusual but not altogether unsatisfying. Will have to remember this one and use it at some point.

Rimmer

Boy, am I glad to see you. You must be the Unspeakable One. Just to fill you in, there's been a gigantic administrative cock-up. Some of your staff have somehow mistaken me for a virgin.

Unspeakable One

Stop your putrid whining you dank tuft of rectal pubic hair.

Lister, Kryten and Cat are sharing a quarantine cell. It's fair to say that they're starting to get on each-other's nerves a little bit.

Lister

There's 79 more days to go.

Kryten

And if you still want to be alive when there is 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 forego the noise and the revolting burbling sound, and go straight to the really gross part, when you always, and I mean always, having blown your nose have to open up your handkerchief and take a look at the contents. I mean, why? What do you expect to see in there? A Turner seascape, perhaps? The face of the Madonna? An undiscovered Shakespearian sonnet?

Kryten is about to receive a grievous injury. He doesn't see it coming. Because it comes from behind him and not even androids have eyes in the back of their heads.

Lister

Kryten, man, are you OK?

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 has been infected by a Holovirus. He's wearing a red and white Gingham dress and holding a penguin puppet that he's named Mr. Flibble. This doesn't bode well.

Rimmer

Mr. Flibble's very cross. You shouldn't have ran away from him. What are we going to to with them, Mr. Flibble?

[Mr. FLIBBLE whispers something in RIMMER's ear]

We can't possibly do that! Who would clear up the mess?

Trying to replicate strawberries, the crew have managed to set in motion a chain of events which will see Red Dward obliterated. Not a good day.

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.

On board the low Red Dwarf, Lister is looking for Rimmer. But, instead, he runs into his depraved dopplegänger.

Lister

Rimmer?

[Behind him, a figure struts down the ladder]

Low Rimmer

Looking for someone?

[LISTER turns to face the figure on the ladder. It wears stockings (with garters), a studded leather collar, an ornate earring in its right ear with a chain leading to a sleeper in its right nostril, and a fur stole.]

Lister

Holy smeg!

Low Rimmer

Hello, my pretty.

Lister

What do you want with me?

Low Rimmer

I want to hurt you.

Lister

Why?

Low Rimmer

Because I'm not a very nice person.

Lister

A holo-whip!

Low Rimmer

I'm going to lash you to within an inch of your life. And then I'm going to have you.

The crew have just woken up to discover that the past four years have been nothing more than a virtual reality game. They're finding out who they really are.

Kryten

A detective, huh? What's my name?

Lister

Jake. Jake Bullet.

Kryten

Jake Bullet, Cybernautic Detective. I like that! That sounds like the kind of hard-living flat foot who gets the job done by cutting corners and bucking authority. And if those pen-pushers up at City Hall don't like it, well, they can park their over-paid, fat asses on this mid-digit and swivel... swivel 'til they squeal like pigs on a honeymoon!

Rimmer is judgmental. Except, in this instance, he's unwittingly mocking himself because he IS Billy Doyle.

Rimmer

Billy Doyle. Well, that's a name that came from the wrong side of the the tracks, isn't it? You can see it all now: a youth spent in and out of corrective institutions. A string of illegitimate children. The wife will be all white shoes, no tights, and blotchy legs. Has to take up petty crime to cover the court orders for maintenance. Before he knows it he's standing in a bank with a sawn-off shotgun. Somehow it goes off. An old lady gets both barrels through a crocheted bobble hat. All he can do is hide. But where? And then it hits him... with all his ill-gotten gains he can buy four years in a computer game and wait until the heat's off. So ends the Ballad of Billy "Granny Killer" Doyle.