Red Dwarf Body Swap Full Script

Red Dwarf Full Script Series 3 Episode 4 Body Swap

Rimmer loses Lister’s arm and his watch in episode 4 of Red Dwarf Series 3 – Body Swap. Check out the full script here!

Red Dwarf Body Swap Full Script

RED DWARF Series III Episode 4, “Body Swap”

1 Int. Somewhere in Red Dwarf.

Shot of Scutter with wires in its “mouth” behaving erratically.

2 Int. Lab.

KRYTEN and RIMMER are hunched over a computer terminal displaying a horrendously complex circuit diagram. RIMMER is giving instructions to KRYTEN.

RIMMER: Turn. There’s another. Circuit board epsilon 14598, red
corridor 357.
KRYTEN: Re-routed.
RIMMER: Turn. And another. Circuit board theta 29555, rlue corridor 212.

LISTER enters shuffling a deck of cards.

LISTER: What’s happening guys? It’s half ten. I thought we were playing poker?
RIMMER: Where have you been? Didn’t you get the message?
LISTER: What message?
RIMMER: One of the skutters has gone bananas. He’s completely rewired the maintenance decks back to front and upside down. We’ve got over two thousand wiring faults. Don’t breath. Don’t touch anything.
(Looking at LISTER) The whole ship is a gigantic booby trap.
LISTER: No poker then? (Looks very crestfallen.)

RIMMER looks at LISTER as if to say, “You don’t understand the gravity of this situation.”

RIMMER: We can’t find the auto destruct system. It’s wired up to
something but we don’t know what. Tell the CAT.
LISTER: (Walking away) It’s taken me ages to mark these cards.

3 Int. Corridor.

LISTER is leading CAT along a red-lit corridor.

CAT: So we can’t touch anything?
LISTER: Nothing electrical. Not until we get the all clear.
CAT: How longs that going to take?
LISTER: God knows.

LISTER approaches the vending machine, lowers to so he can depress an order.

LISTER: Milk shake and a crispy bar. (Turning back to CAT) We were just playing poker tonight. That’s gone for a burn.

Auto destruct from Body Swap Red Dwarf
AUTO DESTRUCT: Auto destruct sequence initiated. Initiated destruction in 15 minutes. 14 minutes, 55 seconds and counting.

CAT and LISTER look at each other stunned as warning noises sound.

CAT: (Keeping his cool) That’s a very dumb thing you just did then.
LISTER: I Know. I wasn’t thinking.
AUTO DESTRUCT: Red Dwarf will self destruct in 14 minutes and 50 seconds.

CAT puts on his scared face and leaves. LISTER turns back to the vending machine.

LISTER: Cancel. Clear.
AUTO DESTRUCT: Abandon ship. You have 13 minutes and 45 seconds to detonation.
LISTER: (Hitting buttons with his fist) Cancel!
AUTO DESTRUCT: You have 12 minutes and 45 seconds to–
LISTER: (Kicking machine) Cancel!
AUTO DESTRUCT: You have 10 minutes and 45 seconds–
LISTER: (Shaking the machine violently) Cancel!
AUTO DESTRUCT: You have 9 minutes and 45 seconds–

4 Int. Control Room.

First a shot of CAT and then RIMMER strides into the shot, looking _very_cross.

RIMMER: I said, “Touch nothing.” Didn’t I say, “Touch nothing?”
LISTER: Look, I just ordered a shake and a crispy bar. (Very pleading
quality here as one would when one has just initiated the end of an
entire space ship.)
CAT: You’re lucky you didn’t order a double cheese burger!
AUTO DESTRUCT: Eight minutes, 20 seconds and counting.
LISTER: How do we switch it off?
HOLLY: The only person who can override the autodestruct is the captain.
HOLLY: Or one of the senior officers.
HOLLY: In many ways I should have updated the system really.
LISTER: Is there any that we can trick the machine into thinking one of us is the captain?
HOLLY: No. It checks his voice and brain scan against its databanks.
AUTO DESTRUCT: Auto destruct in 8 minutes, 10 seconds and counting.
RIMMER: Think of something please. You are supposed to have an IQ of 6000. Think of something.
HOLLY: I’m thinking.
AUTO DESTRUCT: Self destruct in 8 minutes and counting.
RIMMER: Well??
HOLLY: I bin’ through the whole of my database, collated every single option, and there are three realistic alternatives. One: sit ‘ere and get blown up. Two: Stand ‘ere and get blown up. Three: Jump up and down, shout at me for not being able to think of anything, then get blown up.
LISTER: There must be something?
KRYTEN: Perhaps we could try a mind swap?

5 Int. Lab.

Shot an arm strapped to a chair, pan out to LISTER tied down to a chair looking anything but happy to be there.

KRYTEN: It’s something we tried once on the Nova 5. It uses exactly the same science as generating a hologram. We wipe all your brain patterns and put them on a storage disk. Then we transfer the captains mind from his hologram personality disk into your empty brain.
LISTER: And you tried this on the Nova 5?
LISTER: Did it work?
KRYTEN: No. But I’m pretty sure I know what went wrong.
AUTO DESTRUCT: 4 minutes to self destruct and counting.
LISTER: So the captain’s mind will be in my body?
KRYTEN: Yes. Then, hopefully, the self destruct will think you’re are
the captain, and you can activate the override.
LISTER: But where will my mind be?
KRYTEN: (Holding up a very small cassette tape) On this.
AUTO DESTRUCT: 3 minutes, 50 seconds and counting.

RIMMER and CAT enter the room.

RIMMER: We couldn’t find the captains disk, but what about Brown? Brown was executive officer.
HOLLY: Yeah. Brown’s got clearance.
LISTER: (upon seeing a large needle that KRYTEN just removed the air from) Kryten, what’s that for?
KRYTEN: It’s a mental emetic.
LISTER: A what?
KRYTEN: A mind enema — so we can flush out your brain.
LISTER: Nobody’s flush’n out my brain.
KRYTEN: We’ll transfer it back afterwards.
LISTER: You are not sticking that think in my head.

The CAT is drinking a cup of coffee in the background.

AUTO DESTRUCT: one minute and 40 seconds and counting.
RIMMER: We’ve got to. It’s our only chance.
LISTER: Smeg Off!
CAT: Look man, I’m not asking you to do this just for me. I’m askin’,
well pleading with you I’m beggin’ ya — do it for the sake of my
suits. Are you just gonna stand by and let my scarlet PVC morning suit with the imitation king penguin fur collars get blown to smithereens.
(LISTER nods.) Could you live with yourself? (LISTER nods again.)
AUTO DESTRUCT: I minute, 30 seconds and counting.
RIMMER: Look, Lister. I agree, it’s a stupid idea. It almost certainly
wont work. But the very worst that can happen — the absolute bottom line — is that you’ll have to spend the rest of your life as a
mindless gibbering vegetable. But if the rest of your life is going to
be thirty seconds, what the hell!
LISTER: Do it.

KRYTEN swaps his right temple with a cotton ball and then inserts the needle. As it sucks out LISTER’s mind his face takes on a more vacant expression until he is completely cross eyed and his tongue sits rather stupidly almost out of his mouth. KRYTEN presses some keys on a keyboard, storing LISTER’s mind onto a storage medium.

KRYTEN: Keep that safe — it’s Lister’s mind.

He hands the small cassette to CAT. As they are all looking at it CAT
drops it into a mug of coffee. RIMMER recoils very quickly. CAT,
looking most apologetic, but not quite managing to hide an evil smirk, removes the cassette from his coffee and slinks off. KRYTEN begins to place BROWN’s mind into LISTER. Once complete “LISTER” looks very surprised.

AUTO DESTRUCT: 55 seconds to detonation
BROWN: What’s happening? What the hell is going on?
RIMMER: (standing to attention) Ah, sir. There is no time to explain,
but, by a bizarre series of accidents the ship auto destruct system has got switched on and we need you to deactivate it.
BROWN: Something’s wrong. Something feels different. Wait a minute, I never use to be a man!
RIMMER: Look, you stupid women, we’ll explain later.
BROWN: Why have I got male sexual organs!
RIMMER: If we don’t override the autodestruct system within the next 20 seconds those male sexual organs will be in orbit around the nearest planet. Along with every one else’s organs sexual or otherwise.
AUTO DESTRUCT: 15 seconds to detonation.
BROWN: Abort sequence X1X.
BROWN: Carol Brown, executive officer, security clearance 010101.
AUTO DESTRUCT: Pause for verification. (Pause) Verification rejected.
Abort denied. Auto destruct sequence continued. Detonation in 5

Shot of KRYTEN looking pretty upset. RIMMER and CAT are speaking to KRYTEN.

RIMMER: Sen-smegging-sational
CAT: Well done, sphinx face.
RIMMER: What a brilliant, brilliant plan.
CAT: Just great.

BROWN is struggling in the seat.

AUTO DESTRUCT: 1. Initiate self destruct.

A dramatic pause as they brace for death.

Shot of dispensing machine as it shoots out a milk shake and a crispy

AUTO DESTRUCT: Thank you for using the auto serve dispensing machines.
Number one in quality. Number one in taste.
CAT: What happened?
KRYTEN: It must have been wired up to the warning system but not the bomb.
RIMMER: So where’s the bomb?
HOLLY: We haven’t got a bomb.
HOLLY: I got rid of it ages ago.
CAT: Why didn’t you say?
HOLLY: You never asked.
CAT: Fine, terrific. (To KRYTEN) But remember this: you’re getting my underwear bill, buddy.

6 Ext. Red Dwarf. Establishing.

7 Int. Sleeping quarters.

RIMMER and LISTER are lying on their beds.

RIMMER: You awake?
LISTER: Yeah — can’t sleep.
RIMMER: Probably those kippers you had for supper.

Kippers Vindaloo - Red Dwarf Quotes
LISTER: Nothin’ wrong with kippers for supper.
RIMMER: But kippers vindaloo? Can’t be good for you. I mean, a curry every night? That cannot be good for you. Certainly no good for me.
I’m thinking of getting a canary in a cage.
RIMMER: To check out the room, see if it is safe to use.
LISTER: C’mon, it’s not that bad!
RIMMER: Not that bad? You don’t sweat sweat, you sweat madras sauce.
LISTER: Why all the sudden interest in my diet?
RIMMER: It’s not just your diet, Lister. It’s your health in general.
Face facts: you eat crap, you don’t exercise, you smoke, you drink,
and frankly, it’s beginning to show.
RIMMER: You’re getting porky.
LISTER: Porky!
RIMMER: Last week when there was that lights failure in the engine room, your silhouette was caste onto the wall. I got the fright of my life.
I thought it was Alfred Hitchcock.
LISTER: Are you sayin’ I’ve got a gut?
RIMMER: You have got more gut that a Turkish butchers shop window.
LISTER: (sounding worried) Hang on, no really. Do you think I’ve put on weight?
RIMMER: You’ve reached that age, Listy. When you’re younger you can eat what you like, drink what you like and still climb into your 26 inch waist trousers and zip them closed. Then you reach that age — 24, 25 — your muscles give up they wave a little white flag and then without any warning at all, you’re suddenly a fat bastard.
LISTER: I’m not fat — I’m porky!
RIMMER: Have you ever in dissection class held up a frog by its head?
(Demonstrating to Lister with hand movements.) 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.
(Lies back down.)
LISTER: Yeah, maybe you’re right. (Examining his belly from his reclined position) Yeah, I’m gonna start working out in the gym.

Thinking the conversation is over, he returns to his comic.

RIMMER: Of course, you could always … no you’d never a agree to it.
LISTER: (Leaning down to RIMMER’s bunk) What?
RIMMER: We could do a swap: my mind in your body, yours in mine.
(LISTER lies back down shaking his head and smiling thinking what a
ludicrous idea this is.) You saw how easy it was with Brown. Lend me
your body for a few weeks and I’ll get it fit for you. Plenty of
exercise, sensible diet, no more booze, no more ciggies. It’ll be like
a 12 thousand mile service for your body.
LISTER: What, and in the meantime I’m a hologram?
RIMMER: It won’t be too bad if it’s only for a couple of weeks.
LISTER: You’re talking as if it were a pare of hedge trimmers or a lawn mower or somethin’.
RIMMER: I’d give it you back, I’d return it intact. More than intact,
it’d be fitter.
LISTER: Look, Rimmer, you are not having possession of _my_ body.
RIMMER: What are you worried about? How can a treat it any worse than you do? You admit you don’t look after it, don’t exercise it, don’t feed it properly. I would. What do you say?

8 Ext. Red Dwarf.

We hear sounds of mind-swapping type activity.

9 Int. Lab corridor.

LISTER and RIMMER emerging from the Lab.

LISTER: (Lister’s voice, but sounding very odd as it emerges from
RIMMER’s larynx) No welchin’.
RIMMER: Of course not.
LISTER: A fortnight.
RIMMER: 14 days.
LISTER: (Holding up two of RIMMER’s fingers) Two weeks.
RIMMER: Absolutely doodley. (He opens LISTER’s jacket and indicates with hand gestures that it doesn’t smell very nice.)

10 Int. Shower room.

RIMMER, in LISTER’s body, is standing at what turns out to be a urinal, and is putting some very thick red plastic gloves on, he removes the hat with distain, and dons a pare of eye covers. He is humming The Grand Old Duke of York to himself. Removing a pare of tongs from his back pocket he then unzips his fly and using the tongs proceeds in alleviating himself. Suddenly he stops, removes his eye covers and looks down. He looks up with a face that looks very shocked at what it has just seen.

11 Int. Corridor.

LISTER in RIMMER’s body passes a mirror and catches a glimse of himself.

LISTER: This hat is smeggin’ stupid. I look like Captain Emerald.
Holly, do somethin’ about it, mate.
HOLLY: OK, Dave.

Now RIMMER’s body is decked in the black leather gear we normally associate with LISTER.

LISTER: Brutal!

12 Int. Shower room.

Cut back to a silhouette of RIMMER showering LISTER’s body.

RIMMER: What’s this under his nails? Oh my god!

He places a bottle of AJAX scouring detergent on a recess in the wall and grabs a bottle of what appears to be Domestos.

RIMMER: I’m going to have this dirt carbon-dated.

13 Int. Sleeping quarters.

KRYTEN is pouring some red wine into a glass that is sitting in what
appears to be a very large and sumptuous feast. Dressed in a bath robe,
RIMMER enters the room “hmmmming” to himself.

KRYTEN: Luncheon, sir.

Grabbing LISTER’s locks RIMMER removes most of them with an electric
carving knife.

RIMMER: Ahhh! Food. Real food. To eat, perchance to taste.
KRYTEN: It’s exactly as you ordered, sir: the lightly poached mimmion bladder fish, the 4 dozen oysters, the ducks feet in abalone sauce…
RIMMER: I can touch; I can taste; I can smell! (Getting very excited and grabbing some food.)
KRYTEN: Roast suckling pig stuffed with chestnuts and truffles.
RIMMER: mmmmmmm.
KRYTEN: (Placing a _very_ large silver platter of mashed potato in front of RIMMER) Mashed potato.
RIMMER: With cream and butter?
KRYTEN: A pint of cream and a full pound of butter, sir.
RIMMER: Let the orgy commence.

He starts stuffing food and drink into ha mouth and then slumps his head forward into the potato. He then pours gravy over his head. LISTER enters and looks stunned with this turn of events.

LISTER: Hows the diet goin’?

RIMMER does a thumbs up sign with his head still buried in the potato.

14 Int. Sleeping quarters. Night.

RIMMER is still in a bath robe and is smoking a cigar.

RIMMER: Do you know something I think I went temporarily insane. It was
just too much. I haven’t tasted food in 3 million and 2 years. All
that food. I was like an animal.
LISTER: I want my body back. Now!

LISTER is lying in his right side supporting his head with his bent arm
and in contrast to RIMMER, does not look relaxed.

RIMMER: Oh Look it won’t happen again. It was just something I had to get out of my system.
LISTER: _My_ system. Why ya smokin’?
RIMMER: One cigar!
LISTER: You are supposed to be getting me fit.
RIMMER: I’ll start tomorrow.
LISTER: You better bleedin’ had do.

15 Int. Corridor. Day.

We see LISTER dressed in RIMMER’s green suit and hat carrying a brief
case. CAT walks past him and then does a double take.

CAT: Hey! what are you doin’ dressed like that? Why do you want to look like Goalpost Head? Have you flipped? You want to model yourself on a man who has ears so large that they can pick up satellite TV? Why do you want to look like the smeg-head Rimmer for?!
RIMMER: Because… (poking CAT in the eye) …I am that smeg head Rimmer.

I am that smeghead Rimmer!

With a smug look on his face RIMMER departs.

16 Int. Large spa bath.

RIMMER sits reading a MUSCLE magazine.

RIMMER: Please. These are meant to be women? (Turning over magazine and
we get to see the picture that has just engrossed RIMMER) Ahhh. This is what I call training.

17 Int. Sleeping quarters.

CAT has his back to us and his hair is untied. They are playing

LISTER: (Pointing to letters in his rack) That letter, that letter, and
that letter. (Pointing to the middle of the board) There.

We see that he is having the first go and we see his rack which has the letters D-A-T-E left on it.

CAT: Hey! I’ve got you now! (Holding out his letters up for LISTER to
see.) Jozxyqk.
LISTER: That’s not a word.
CAT: It’s a cat word.


LISTER attempts to pronounces the cat “word.”

CAT: That’s not how you pronounce it!
LISTER: What’s it mean?
CAT: It’s the sound you get when you get your sexual organs trapped in something

CAT demonstrates with his hands a book shutting and pronounces the word again.

LISTER: Is it in the dictionary?
CAT: Well, it could be. If you were reading in the nude and you closed
the book too quickly.

CAT mines this action and says the word again.

RIMMER: (Striding into the room looking like he has been working out and
feels great) Ahhhh! What a session! What a work out! No pain, no
gain, Listy.
LISTER: (Jumping up) On the scales! I want to weigh you.
RIMMER: There’s no need. Look at that stomach. (Rubbing LISTER’s
stomach.) Flat as a pancake. Hasn’t been like that in years!
LISTER: Scales, please.
RIMMER: There’s really no need.
LISTER: (Firmly) On the scales.

RIMMER steps on the scales

LISTER: You’ve put on two stone!
RIMMER: Of course I’ve put on two stone. I’ve been taking yeast extract, building up your body.
LISTER: Take the robe off.
RIMMER: What for?
LISTER: Take it off.
RIMMER: I don’t want you looking at my naked body.
LISTER: It’s not _your_ naked body, it’s mine!
CAT: What’s he hidin’?
LISTER: Off with the robe.
RIMMER: Let me just say this–
RIMMER: (Removes the bathrobe to reveal a pretty pink girdle) Ohhhh this.
This is a hernia prevention belt. I must have forgotten to take it
LISTER: It’s a girdle.
RIMMER: Course it isn’t.
LISTER: Then why has it got little dangly things for holding up
RIMMER: There for attaching extra weights to you so you can get fit just
as you walk around. (He fumbles, demonstrating the attachment of
weights and walking with them attached.) Oh! Errrr ow!
LISTER: I want me body back now.
RIMMER: Look, OK. I went a bit bananas the first few days, but I promise you that’s all over now. Don’t you see? It’s in my interest to get you into shape. This could become a regular thing: fourteen days a year I could have your body. In fact next year, if it’s convenient, I
would like to book the last two weeks of July.
LISTER: I want it back.
RIMMER: One last chance?
LISTER: No more troffin’.
RIMMER: I promise.
LISTER: And take that girdle off. It doesn’t suit me. (He saunters off

18 Int. Sleeping quarters. Night.

We hear pigging-out noises.

LISTER: Holly, lights.

LISTER jumps off bed and finds RIMMER sitting up in bed with a blanket over his head.

LISTER: Right, that’s it! I’m completely sick of it.
RIMMER: MM-mph? Mph mmph mph?
LISTER: That is it!
RIMMER: (Removing the blanket and wiping his hands) What is it? (He has food all over his chin and mouth.)
LISTER: You’ve been porkin’ again, haven’t ya?
RIMMER: I have not!
LISTER: I want my body back, now.
RIMMER: But I’ve only had it a week!
LISTER: This was not the deal. You’ve welched on it. (He walks away and glances into the rubbish bin.) And what’s this in the bin? Me locks!
My locks are in the bin. I thought you said you pinned ’em up?
RIMMER: I did but they … fell off.
LISTER: Fell off? Science lab, now!
RIMMER: But it’s the middle of the night. Kryten is on down time.

19 Int. Sleeping Quarters. Later.

The guys enter their room as themselves again.

LISTER: (Rubbing his chest) How many cigars did you get through, Rimmer?
Me lungs feel as if they have been through a cheese grater.
RIMMER: You’ve got your body back. Leave me alone.
LISTER: (Coughing) I only have a couple of rolly’s a day. It feels as if
you’ve smoked an entire Cuban tobacco harvest.
RIMMER: I had the odd one.
LISTER: You’ve no respect, that’s what. You’ve shown my body no respect whatsoever. You’ve treated it like smeg. Look you’ve given me breasts. There’s a distinct cleavage there. I give you my body and
you’ve given me a bosom.

LISTER he walks over to the scales and RIMMER looks to be the unhappy one now.

LISTER: These scales are wrong. These scales have to be wrong.
RIMMER: It’s average for your height.
LISTER: Rimmer, it would be average for my height if I happened to be a
pregnant hippo.
RIMMER: Well you weren’t exactly Charles Atlas to start with, were you?
LISTER: And you haven’t been treating my athletes foot, have you?
RIMMER: Well, quite frankly I was afraid of touching it.
LISTER: I told you, you have to wash and powder my feet three times a day. Plus a good buffing with a pumice stone.
RIMMER: I wasn’t prepared to touch those _things_ three time a day. To tell you the truth I was only brave enough to take your socks off once.
LISTER: Look at my stomach. Look at it! Pink gudgeon’ stripes down me sides and you could float me over the super bowl.
RIMMER: Look I refuse to take the rap for that body. All right I added a few pounds to its already ample frame but it was, lets face it, a wreck before I got any where near it.
LISTER: A wreck?
RIMMER: If it was a car you would be an insurance write off. Nothing
works. Your taste buds are totally clapped out you’ve killed them
stone dead with 25 years of non stop curries. and what about all the
aches and pains you never mention twinges in your back crimps in your  neck mention? Oh, and I’ll give you a little tip: urine should only
be green if you’re mister spock.
LISTER: That’s the last time you borrow it that’s for goddam sure.
(Getting up and leaving the table.)
RIMMER: What about next year? We had and agreement — the last two weeks in July and the weekend before Christmas.
LISTER: What for, Rimmer? It’s a wreck.
RIMMER: Unfortunately it’s the best that’s available. You can’t get two weeks in the carribean then grimsby is better than nothing. You can’t back out now, you said I could have it.
LISTER: I only said that to get it back. Do you think I am raving mad?
You are never, ever, _ever_ borrowing my body again. Never.
RIMMER: Get some sleep. You’ll feel different in the morning.

20 Int. Corridor.

KRYTEN is pushing a trolley with an unconsious LISTER on it.

KRYTEN: I am really not sure about this.
RIMMER: Look, you’re programmed to obey — get on with it.
KRYTEN: But surely we should ask him first?
RIMMER: I told you, he’s agreed. He’s perfectly happy about the
KRYTEN: Well then, why did you make me chloroform him and why did he struggle so?
RIMMER: Look, I’m in charge Kryten. I’ll take full responsibility.
KRYTEN: Oh! But sir–
RIMMER: Science lab, pronto!
RIMMER: If he comes around give him another whack.

21 Int. Sleeping quarters. Morning.

It looks like RIMMER is waking up in bed, but we soon see that he is
again dressed in LISTER’s clothes.

LISTER: Are you awake man? Rimmer? (Jumps off bed and notices his arms.) No please. No! (Noticing the message that has been left) Play message.

It is RIMMER, dressed in LISTER’s body once again.

RIMMER: Hi! It’s me. I told you you’d feel different in the morning.
Thing is, this week has been absolute heaven for me and I couldn’t just stand by and let you take your body back. That’s why I’ve taken
Starbug and done a runner. Don’t worry, in a month or so I’ll come
back and return it. Just a month, maybe six weeks but don’t try and
follow me, otherwise… (Placing a gun against his right temple) the
body gets it.
LISTER: Cat. Cat! (He runs out of the room.)

22 Int. Some other part of the ship.

CAT: You want my _what_?
LISTER: It’ll only take a couple of hours.
CAT: You want to take _my_ body?
LISTER: I need your body to get _my_ body back.
CAT: You’ve already lost one body. Come on, in all seriousness, you
really expect me to lend you mine?
LISTER: I’m a hologram. How else am I suppose to chase him? I need your body.
CAT: Let me ask you one question. Would you let a garbage truck driver use your Rolls Royce?
LISTER: How else can I pilot White Midget?
CAT: I’ll do it!

23 Ext. Model Shot.

We see White Midget leave Red dwarf.

24 Ext. Model Shot.

Cut to Starbug as it “wheels” through space to the sound of the ???

25 Int. Starbug cockpit.

RIMMER is trumpeting along with hand movements, the gun is in the right hand. He opens a trunk load filled donuts. As the music ends he places one in his mouth. LISTER appears on the monitor behind him.

LISTER: Rimmer. Rimmer! It’s no use runnin’, man, we’ve got you in
visual range. Turn around and head back to the ship.
RIMMER: I told you not to follow me. (Pointing the gun at LISTER’s
image. He goes over to his console and allows them to see him.) Leave me alone or you-know-what happens. (Placing gun at his right temple again.)
CAT: He’s bluffin’.
RIMMER: I’m not bluffing.
LISTER: I think he means it man. He’s flipped — it must be cream cake
CAT: He’s bluffin. I’m goin’ in after him.
KRYTEN: He must be bluffing.
LISTER: Say he isn’t, man?
CAT: It’s gastronomic terrorism! We can’t stand by and let it happen.
RIMMER: Go ahead punks. Make my day.
LISTER: You’re right. He’s bluffin’.
CAT: Lets get him. (Puts his feet to the floor and the ship really start
to move.)

RIMMER goes back to the controls. He drives badly and hits some rocks.

LISTER: This is getting stupid. Back off — let him go.
CAT: We’re almost on him.
LISTER: It’s too dangerous. Let him go.

The white midget backs off and RIMMER turns around to gloat, oblivious to the nasty-looking outcrop of rocks looming up ahead.

RIMMER: Ha! Ha! Ha! Chickens. Ha … (He turns back to look where he is going.)

26 Ext. Model shot.

We see Starbug hit the rocky outcrop and the slam into the ground on the other side. We return to White Midget and view LISTER’s totally shocked face.

LISTER: Oh smeg! What the smeggin’ smeg’s he smeggin’ done? He’s
smeggin’ killed me!

27 Int. Starbug rear section.

Hanging live wires are everywhere in the crashed interior. LISTER, CAT
and KRYTEN enter. The sliding door between the cockpit and galley area opens.

RIMMER: (Peering around the corner) Whoops!
LISTER: Are you all right?
RIMMER: You’re going to go spare.
LISTER: What? What is it?
RIMMER: You’re going to go absolutely spare.

RIMMER’s steps out into the doorway his top is torn bellow the shoulder.

LISTER: You’ve lost me arm.
RIMMER: I’ve lost your watch too.
LISTER: You Bastard!
RIMMER: No, you’re right. It’s my fault. My hands are up … well, my
hand is up. (He starts to laugh.)
LISTER: You think this is funny? (Looking as upset as any body who has just lost an arm would.)
RIMMER: No. But _this_ is.

RIMMER brings the missing arm from behind his back and sticking two fingers up on both hands, makes gestures to LISTER. He starts laughing and slips over. As LISTER looks down at him CAT and KRYTEN look at each other and start laughing.

Rimmer in Lister's body

28 Int. White Midget.

Brief view of the return flight.

29 Int. Sleeping quarters.

LISTER is sitting on his bunk with a white blood splattered bandage
around his head. He has just attached his locks to some elastic and he places these around his head over the bandage.

LISTER: Oh, Hello. It’s captain chloroform.
KRYTEN: Oh please, mister David sir. My guilt chips is already in
overdrive. I, I feel terrible! (He paws at Lister’s leg.)
LISTER: _You_ feel terrible? How about my smeggin’ head?
KRYTEN: I _had_ to obey him. It’s in my programming to obey all humans.
No matter how insane.

He removes the white cover from trolley he was pushing to show a small portion of food on a plate.

KRYTEN: Dinner is served, sir.
LISTER: Lettuce and a grated carrot. I’m on this for six months.

RIMMER’s body enters the room looking very stiff.

LISTER: What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.
CAT: I was asleep, OK? Next thing I know plastic Percy here puts a
sponge on my face and out go the lights.

CAT/RIMMER moves stiffly to the table and sits down rather grumpily.

KRYTEN: It was an order.

RIMMER/CAT enters the room carrying a plate of what appears to be mashed potatoes with other food stuffs stuck in it and sits at the table.

RIMMER: Just one night, I promise. I’ll give it back first thing
tomorrow. Maybe Thursday.

He slumps his head forward into the potato and starts to thrash it about like a pig again.

The End


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