Red Dwarf
Season 1, Episode 5:
Confidence and Paranoia
by Bob Grant and Doug Naylor
HOLLY: This is an SOS distress call from the mining ship Red Dwarf. The
crew are dead, killed by a radiation leak. The only survivors are
Dave Lister, who was in suspended animation during the disaster, and
his pregnant cat, who was safely sealed in the hold. Revived three
million years later, Lister's only companions are a life form who
evolved from his cat, and Arnold Rimmer, a hologram simulation of one
of the dead crew. We have been travelling through the galaxy now for
three million years and there are many things we've discovered. The
highest form of life in the universe is Man and the lowest is a man
who works for the post office.
[SCENE: The Drive Room. LISTER is watching a soppy movie on one the
screens while drinking a beer milkshake and eating a bowl full of french
fries. Romantic piano music plays in the background of the film.]
CAROL: [in the film] Oh, Jim, weren't you the one who said we have to
seize our moments because they may never come again?
[LISTER gurgles sadly into his milkshake.]
JIM: [in the film] This is our moment, right here and now. Let's seize
it together.
CAROL: Oh, you must know, I'm dying!
JIM: I know, Carol. Dr. Graham told me everything. [The music swells.]
[HOLLY appears on the screen, interrupting the movie.]
HOLLY: Busy are you, Dave?
LISTER: Hol! I'm watching the film.
HOLLY: Just wondered if you're a bit bored.
LISTER: No, no. I'm watching the film.
HOLLY: You're not bored, then?
LISTER: No, go away!
[The film reappears on the screen.]
CAROL: Oh, you must know, I'm dying!
JIM: I know, Carol. Dr. Graham told me everything. [The music swells.]
[LISTER opens his mouth to sob and a mouthful of milkshake gushes onto
his shirt. He doesn't seem to notice.]
[HOLLY appears on the screen, interrupting the movie.]
HOLLY: I've just finished reading everything. I've now read everything
that's been written anywhere, by anyone ever.
LISTER: Would you go away?
HOLLY: You know what the worst book ever written by anyone ever was?
LISTER: I don't care!
HOLLY: "Football, It's a Funny Old Game" by Kevin Keegan.
LISTER: Holly, would you let watch the film?
[The film reappears on the screen. HOLLY reappears on the screen,
interrupting the movie.]
HOLLY: I'm at a loose end now. I don't know what to do with meself.
LISTER: Holly, why don't you just read everything all over again.
HOLLY: I was thinking it might help pass the time if I created a
perfectly functioning replica of a woman, capable of independant
decision making and abstract thought and absolutely undetectable from
the real thing.
LISTER: [sitting up eagerly] Well why don't you, then?
HOLLY: Because I don't know how. I wouldn't even know how to make the
nose. Heh.
LISTER: Holly, is there something that you want?
HOLLY: Well only if you're not busy, would you mind erasing some of my
memory banks?
LISTER: What for?
HOLLY: Well, if you erase all the Agatha Christie novels from my memory,
I can read 'em again tonight.
LISTER: How do I do it?
HOLLY: Just type, "HolMem. Password override. The novels Christie,
Agatha." Then press erase.
[LISTER jabs two-fingered on a keyboard.]
LISTER: I've done it.
HOLLY: Done what?
LISTER: Erased Agatha Christie.
HOLLY: Who's she, then?
LISTER: Holly, you just asked me to erase all Agatha Christie novels
from your memory.
HOLLY: Why should I do that? I've never heard of her.
LISTER: You've never heard of her because I've just erased her from your
smegging memory.
HOLLY: What'd you do that for?
LISTER: You asked me to!
HOLLY: When?
LISTER: Just now!
HOLLY: I don't remember this.
LISTER: Oh, I'm going to bed. This is gonna go on all night.
[LISTER grabs his milkshake and fries and walks out of the room.]
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. LISTER lies in his top bunk, watching the
soppy film in the screen over the sink.]
CAROL: ...dying!
JIM: I know, Carol. Dr. Graham told me everything. [The music swells.]
RIMMER: [marching in] Off! [The screen turns into a mirror.] Ah, had a
good day, Lister? Scrummed enough choccies, watched enough drivel,
have you? Look at you; you're turning into a sad, middle-aged woman.
Next thing you know you'll be varnishing your nails and buying
girdles.
LISTER: Oh yeah, and what've you done that's so great?
RIMMER: I've achieved seventeen things today off my daily goal list,
whereas you've never achieved anything ever in your entire life.
LISTER: Don't know, you know. I went to the Officer's Block.
RIMMER: When?!
LISTER: This morning.
RIMMER: But it hasn't been decontaminated!
LISTER: You said it had last week!
RIMMER: No, I said it was on last Thursday's daily goal list!
LISTER: And you haven't done it yet?!
RIMMER: Tommorow. It's on tomorrow's daily goal list. Item 34, right
after "Learn Portugese".
LISTER: Thanks a lot. Don't tell me.
RIMMER: Why were you mooching around up there, anyway?
LISTER: I was looking through Kochanski's dream recorder. She dreamed
about me three times, you know. It was in the log.
RIMMER: So? Clean my teeth, please, Holly? [bares his teeth as if
they're being brushed]
LISTER: I mean, it must mean something. You don't dream about someone
that you don't feel something for.
RIMMER: Lister, I once had a dream about a babboon but that doesn't mean
I want to go to bed with it. Shave, please, Holly. [scrunches his
mouth up and sticks out his jaw] Lister, you ought to take a good long
look at yourself and then you'd see just how ridiculous you appear to
other people.
LISTER: If you'd let me have Kochanski's personality disk for like one
second, maybe I could find out.
RIMMER: Lister, if you were a Love Celibate like me you wouldn't have
these problems.
LISTER: Come on, Rimmer, the only reason you knocked around with those
prats from the Love Celibacy Society was you could never get a date.
RIMMER: No, it wasn't. I happen to agree with their philsophy that love
is a sickness that holds back your career and makes you want to spend
all your money.
LISTER: You could never get a date because you let your mum buy all your
casual clothes.
RIMMER: There is nothing wrong with my casual clothes.
LISTER: Oh, come on, Rimmer, your trousers were so short when you
crossed your legs, you could see your knees.
RIMMER: What about Yvonne MacGruder? That was a date.
LISTER: She'd been hit on the head by a winch, she had a concussion.
RIMMER: That's got nothing to do with it. She was crazy about me.
LISTER: Oh, yeah? She kept calling you "Norman".
RIMMER: She still went to bed with me.
LISTER: Yeah, because she had wonky vision and she thought you were
somebody else.
RIMMER: Serves her right for being concussed, doesn't it?
[RIMMER lies down on his bunk]
LISTER: Rimmer, you don't know what love is.
RIMMER: Yes, I do. Love is a device invented by bank managers to make
us overdrawn. Lights.
LISTER: Rimmer... love is what makes us different from animals.
RIMMER: No, Lister, what makes us different from animals is we don't use
our tongues to clean our own genitals.
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. Later that same night. LISTER is moaning,
sweating, and cringing in the top bunk. RIMMER sleeps peacefully in the
bottom bunk.]
LISTER: Lights! [the room lights go on] Rimmer, are you awake? Rimmer!
Are you awake?!
RIMMER: [jerking awake] What? Yes, Mum, I'm just packing my satchel.
Where am I? What time is it?
LISTER: I don't feel very well.
RIMMER: [looking at a clock] Half past three?!
LISTER: I feel really ill.
RIMMER: Well you are really ill.
LISTER: No, I mean, _really_ ill. [sobbing] I'm going down to the
medical unit. I don't feel very well.
[LISTER drops out of bed and stumbles out of the room, clutching his
blanket (which says, "Hilton" on it) around himself.]
RIMMER: Lights! [the light go back off. RIMMER settles back to sleep]
Ah, Miss MacGruder, where were we?
[SCENE: Level 159, outside the Sleeping Quarters.]
[LISTER stumbles on the corridor, sobbing, sweating, shivering.]
LISTER: I feel really hot.
[LISTER stumbles and falls to the floor, unconscious.]
[Scene: Level 147. The CAT is dancing along the corridor, spraying
various items with a small misting bottle.]
CAT: Hey, this is mine. That's mine. All this is mine. I'm claiming
all this as mine. Except that bit. I don't want that bit. But all
the rest of this is mine. 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 **** with something.
[dancing away] Oooooooooow, yeaaaaaaah....
[SCENE: Level 159. LISTER is still unconscious on the floor as the CAT
dances up the corridor toward him.]
CAT: [singing] S-E-X, you know I want it! S-E-X, I'm gonna get it!
[seeing LISTER] S-E-X, I think I found it! [recognizes LISTER and
crouches down beside him] Oh, it's you! Hey, monkey, you're sick.
Sick, helpless, and unconscious. If you weren't my friend, I'd steal
your shoes. [sprays LISTER with the misting bottle and stands up] Time
for a snack. This way. [dances away]
HOLLY: Emergency. There's an emergency going on. It's still going on.
It's still an emergency. Will Arnold Rimmer please hurry to White
Corridor 159. This is an emergency announcement.
[SCENE: The Dining Area. The CAT stands at a food dispenser.]
CAT: Food!
DISPENSER: Today's Speciality is Chicken Meringue.
[A chicken meringue with dinner rolls drops into the dispensing shelf.
The CAT takes it and dances to a table.]
CAT: [singing] I'm gonna eat you little chickie. I'm gonna eat you
little chickie. I'm gonna eat you little chickie. [flicks the chicken
off the table to one side, catching it before it hits the ground] Uh
uh, too slow, chicken merango. Too slow for this cat. [places the
chicken back on his plate, looks away, and flicks the chicken off the
other side, onto the floor] Hey! This chicken is faster than I
thought! [retrieves the chicken]
RIMMER: [running into the room] Quick! Lister's fainted! He needs
help! Quick!
[RIMMER runs back out. The CAT jumps up, then sits back down again.]
RIMMER: [runs back in] Didn't you hear me? Didn't anyone hear me?
Lister's in trouble. The monkey, oo oo oo, has fainted. I can not
pick him up. Quick! Come on! Now!
[RIMMER runs back out. The CAT jumps up, then sits back down again.]
RIMMER: [walks back in] Is there something wrong with you? Lister's
collapsed!
CAT: Yeah?
RIMMER: What do you mean "yeah"? He needs help!
CAT: And?
RIMMER: And if you don't help him he might die.
CAT: Aw, no. That's too bad. I really liked him, too.
RIMMER: So, come and help him.
CAT: What? And interrupt my lunch?!
RIMMER: What is more important: a man's life or your smegging lunch?
CAT: That doesn't even deserve an answer.
RIMMER: Right. Okay. Fine. [points to the scutters] You come with me.
You get a stretcher.
[The CAT juggles his dinner rolls, sticks one in his mouth and holds the
other two over his eyes.]
[SCENE: The Medical Unit. LISTER is sitting in a wheelchair, wrapped in
his blanket. RIMMER stands beside the medicomp, a medical computer. One
of the scutters is on a counter, holding a thermometer.]
RIMMER: [directing the scutter] Down. Down. Okay, stop.
LISTER: Let the medicomp take my temperature.
RIMMER: Lister, they've got to learn. Down, down, slowly now. Ah ah,
now very, very, very slowly forward.
[The scutter jabs the thermometer into LISTER's eye.]
LISTER: AIGH! Me eye!
RIMMER: Lister, they've got to learn.
LISTER: I've just nearly lost an eye!
RIMMER: How about an **** reading?
LISTER: I'm all right! I feel fine now.
RIMMER: Well, you're not fine. And it's your own smegging fault for
going up to the Officer's Deck before it was decontaminated.
LISTER: I just wanted to have a look around.
RIMMER: You just wanted to go into Kochanski's quarters and wallow in
self-pity and look what's it got you!
LISTER: I'm all right. I've got a touch of pneumonia. That's all.
RIMNER: It's not pneumonia. Three million years ago it was pneumonia
but since then it's bred and mutated and now we don't know what it is.
LISTER: Why didn't I ask her out? What's the worst she could've said?
RIMMER: She could've said, "No, you're a filthy, loathsome, disgusting
object I wouldn't be seen dead with in a plague pit."
LISTER: She could've said, "yes". Stranger things have happened.
RIMMER: Only two spring to mind, Lister: the spontaneous combustion of
the Mayor of Warsaw in 1546 and that incident in 12th century Burgandy
when it rained herring.
LISTER: There's this theory that me and Chen used to have. It's like
everyone's got two people inside you. You've got your confidence and
paranoia. And your confidence's the guy who goes, "Hey you're great.
You're dead sexy! Everybody loves you!" And your paranoia says,
"You're stupid. You're useless. You're ugly. And everybody hates
you."
RIMMER: [looking at the medicomp] That's odd, Lister. According to this
reading, you're clinically dead.
LISTER: And what that was was my confidence was just about to persuade
me to ask Kochanski out and as I was walking up to her he'd go on a
business trip to Hawaii or something and I'd be left with my paranoia
saying, "You must be joking. She's gonna laugh in our face."
RIMMER: You know, sometimes, Lister, you can be quite perceptive and
thought-provoking. And other times, like this, you can rant and
drivel on like a complete loonie.
LISTER: Just take me to me bed.
RIMMER: All right, Lister. [to the scutter on the floor] Okay, you know
how it works. Now release the mechanism very, very, very gently.
[The scutter flicks a switch and LISTER and his wheelchair zip across
the room and crash into a table.]
RIMMER: Possibly a gnat's more gently than that.
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. LISTER is lying in bed, having an nightmare.
RIMMER is standing in front of the mirror, practising the Full-Rimmer,
Triple-Rimmer, and a Two-Handed-Rimmer salute.]
LISTER: [in his sleep] Quick! Get an umbrella. Get an umbrella. Quick,
get an umbrella. Get an umbrella. Cor! Ungh...
RIMMER: [reading from a poster tacked over the sink] "Necrobics,
Hologrammatic Exercises for the Dead."
LISTER: It's raining. It's raining down. Get an umbrella! It's
raining. It's raining.
[RIMMER clenches up his face and starts rolling his head around.
Something falls from the ceiling. Another one falls. RIMMER opens his
eyes to see herring falling from the ceiling. He stares in amazement as
more and more herring start to rain down from the ceiling. RIMMER backs
out of the room.]
[SCENE: Corridor 159. RIMMER continues to back out of the room.]
RIMMER: Holly, what's going on?
HOLLY: What?
RIMMER: What's happening?
HOLLY: Um, Hercule Poirot's just stepped off the steaming train. And if
you want my opinion, I think they all did it.
RIMMER: Why did we have to have you as the ship's computer? We'd be
better off with a bucket of sheep's slop running things.
HOLLY: If you've got a complaint, just come straight out with it. Don't
hide behind innuendo and hyperbole.
RIMMER: Why is it raining fish in our sleeping quarters?!
HOLLY: I'd be lying if I said I knew. The only comparable incident is
in 12th century Burgandy when it rained herring.
[The Mayor of Warsaw walks up to RIMMER, ringing a bell. He stops, then
spontaneously combusts in a flash, leaving only a pile of clothes
behind.]
RIMMER: It really is gonna be one of those days.
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. LISTER lying in bed. The CAT struts in with
a silvery shopping bag.]
CAT: Hey, you're awake!
LISTER: Yeah, I've just woke up.
CAT: Yeah, well, I've brought you some presents!
LISTER: Aw, you shouldn't have bothered.
CAT: Ha ha! Well, I'm that kind of guy! Hey, let's see what we've got
in the magic bag here! I got you some.... grapes! [holds up the bare
stems of an ex-bunch of grapes] And I got you got you an.... orange!
[holds up an orange peel]
LISTER: Thanks a lot, I feel better already.
CAT: Hey, well, all this enormous generosity has made me tired. I'm
going to bed. [takes LISTER's pillow and blanket and lies down on the
bottom bunk] Ah, yes, indeedy.
[RIMMER walks in.]
RIMMER: [to LISTER] You're awake.
CAT: Yeah, but I'll be asleep in a minute.
RIMMER: [to LISTER] How do you feel?
CAT: Fine. Just don't ask me anymore questions. I'm trying to sleep!
RIMMER: [to the CAT] Shut up, you stupid moggey! And out of that bed!
CAT: [getting out of bed] Well, if you're going to speak to me like
that, I'm gonna take my presents back! [grabs the bag and heads for
the door]
RIMMER: [to LISTER] How do you feel?
CAT: [walking out the room] Hurt!
LISTER: I feel great.
RIMMER: Listen, Lister, you had a fever, okay?
LISTER: Yeah?
RIMMER: And, you started to hallucinate, all right?
LISTER: Yeah?
RIMMER: Only your hallucinations.... were solid.
LISTER: What do you mean, "solid"?
RIMMER: I mean they were real, alive, solid.
LISTER: Solid?
RIMMER: Solid.
LISTER: What do you mean, "they were solid"?
RIMMER: Okay, I'll put it another way. You had hallucinations, all
right?
LISTER: Yeah?
RIMMER: And they were solid. I told you it wasn't ordinary pneumonia. I
told you it was mutated. I knew something like this would happen.
LISTER: Okay, well, what did I hallucinate?
RIMMER: Well, first of all, it was fish rain.
LISTER: Fish rain? Yeah, I dreamt that!
RIMMER: Well, it actually happened!
LISTER: Where's all the fish?
CAT: [sticking his head in the door] Somebody ate them!
RIMMER: Then, the Mayor of Warsaw spontaneously combusted. And then you
hallucinated two men in the Drive Room.
LISTER: What two men?
RIMMER: Apparently, one of them's your confidence and the other one's
your paranoia.
[SCENE: Drive Room. CONFIDENCE is a bulky man in loud yellow plaids,
gold chains, and slicked back hair. He is eating a steak on the central
station. PARANOIA is a scrawny, stooped, sunken-eyed man in a black
suit, sitting at a work station, eating a yogurt and sneering at
CONFIDENCE.]
[LISTER and RIMMER walk in.]
CONFIDENCE: [jumps out] Hey! It's the king! [kisses LISTER] Mr.
Beautiful! [to RIMMER] Hey, you, what does the "H" stand for? Horace?
A chair for the king, Horace. And breakfast. Mr. Wonderful wishes to
dine. [guiding LISTER to a chair] Have you lost weight? You look
great. [to the others] Is he totally perfect or what?
LISTER: [grinning widely] You're my confidence?
CONFIDENCE: I just love that accent. It makes me go all quibbley!
LISTER: I don't get it. You look like the manager of the London Jets
but you sound like Bing Baxter, the American quiz show host.
CONFIDENCE: [smiles] I'm all the things you associate with confidence,
King.
LISTER: [to PARANOIA] And you're my paranoia?
PARANOIA: Isn't that a urine stain on the front of your trousers?
LISTER: What? [looks at this groin] No, it isn't. It's tea.
PARANOIA: [approaching LISTER] So how are you anyway? Isn't that a huge
spot appearing on your so-called face? My god, you've got fat,
haven't you? Must be all that lager. Bet you've got a terminal
disease. Always happens to the people who least expect it. Don't you
find that? Say "hello", then, won't you? [walking back to his seat]
I'm only trying to be friendly.
[LISTER is looking decidedly worried.]
CONFIDENCE: [to LISTER] Baby, baby, what can I say? [to the others] Is
he the greatest, most fantasic, most handsome guy ever, or am I
insane?
RIMMER: [to CONFIDENCE] You're insane. [to LISTER] Lister, what are you
going to do about them?
LISTER: Do? What can I do?
RIMMER: I think we should arrest them.
LISTER: What for?
RIMMER: For being hallucinations.
LISTER: Come on, smeghead. It's a bit of company, isn't it?
RIMMER: Lister, you're still sick. These two are symptoms of your
disease. They're like the spots in measles, the swelling in mumps, the
funny walk in cystitis. Until they're gone, you won't be better.
CONFIDENCE: Hey, now I know what the "H" stands for. "Hidiot"! Am I
right? Heh heh heh!
RIMMER: [to CONFIDENCE] You are treading on a very thin line, miladdo.
The "H" stands for "Hologram". I happen to be dead.
CONFIDENCE: Couldn't happen to a more deserving guy. [to LISTER] Come
on, King. Forget those losers. Let's go party.
RIMMER: No, I forbid it!
LISTER: Why?
PARANOIA: Why do you never listen to Mr. Rimmer? He's so much more
experienced, more level-headed, so much.... better than you.
CONFIDENCE: [putting an arm around LISTER] Listen, no one is better than
Mr. Magnificent and no one tells the Prince of Charisma what to do.
Right, Prince?
LISTER: [smiling] Yeah, right!
CONFIDENCE: That's my Davey-boy! Oohoo!
[CONFIDENCE leads LISTER out of the room.]
RIMMER: I don't believe it, he's socializing with a figment of his
imagination.
PARANOIA: Yes.
[RIMMER makes a pained expression at PARANOIA's back.]
[SCENE: View of Space. Lots of dust swirls around.]
HOLLY: Please note the dust storm approaching. The ship exterior is
now out of bounds. All air locks are being automatically sealed.
Estimated duration: eighteen hours.
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. CONFIDENCE listens as LISTER strums
dischordantly at his guitar.]
LISTER: [singing] ....our love I tried to kindle, like firelight it...
dwindles, now I wonder when this.... wind'll ever.... stop------.
CONFIDENCE: [incredulously] You wrote that?
LISTER: Yeah, but that was ages ago, you know.
CONFIDENCE: That is the greatest love song ever.
LISTER: Come on!
CONFIDENCE: Ever! It's so deep. All the images! The kindling, the
dwindling, all the -indling! I love all that stuff! When I think
there's fast buck merchants like Beethoven and Mozart out there
grabbing all the publicity and here's you, writing pieces of that
caleeber, it makes me feel weak.
LISTER: [noticing CONFIDENCE is putting a cigarette butt in his pocket]
What are you doing with that cigarette butt?
CONFIDENCE: Oh, you've embarassed me now. It's just that, your lips
have touched it. Your lips! The King's kissing lips! And I just
wanted some proof that I'd actually met the Duke of Deliciousness!
LISTER: You're serious, aren't you?
CONFIDENCE: Serious about what?
LISTER: I'm a nobody! Out of a hundred and sixty-nine people aboard
this ship, I ranked one-six-nine. Bottom of the pile.
CONFIDENCE: That's because you didn't want all that career stuff. You
wanted your farm on Fiji with you-know-who. [holds up a polaroid of
Kochanski]
LISTER: If she'd've come.
CONFIDENCE: If? IF?! And turn down the opportunity of becoming the
envy of all womankind?
LISTER: Oh, we'll never know now.
CONFIDENCE: Why not?
LISTER: She's dead.
CONFIDENCE: So? So's Rimmer. Bring her back.
LISTER: I can't. Holly can only sustain one hologram and Rimmer's
hidden all the other personality disks.
CONFIDENCE: So? Find them.
LISTER: I can't.
CONFIDENCE: King. You can do anything! Anything!
[SCENE: Drive Room. PARANOIA and RIMMER are standing together.]
PARANOIA: ...anything. He can't do anything.
RIMMER: Oh, I know, I know. I'll bet five.
PARANOIA: Do you know he used to practice kissing on his own?
RIMMER: How?
PARANOIA: [demonstrating] He made lips out of one hand and waggled his
thumb through the gap, like a tongue.
RIMMER: That is priceless! It really is.
PARANOIA: Seventeen years old and he used to snog his own hand. Once,
in front of the whole school, he called his gym teacher "Daddy".
[A scutter rolls in a door behind PARANOIA, holding a syringe.]
PARANOIA: I could've died with embarassment.
RIMMER: [leaning closer to PARANOIA, trying to keep him distracted] Oh,
what a silly thing to call a gym master.
PARANOIA: I'm racked with guilt. I hate him.
RIMMER: Why do you hate him? Why do you talk about him so much?
PARANOIA: Because he makes my life one big, humiliating, cringe-making,
guilt-ridden hell!
RIMMER: [shouting to the scutter] NOW! QUICK! STAB HIM! STAB HIM!
STAB HIM!
[PARANOIA turns to look at the scutter which has hardly moved.]
RIMMER: [to PARANOIA] Uh, you haven't met "Stabhim". He's one of the
scutters. Stabhim, meet Lister's paranoia. Lister's paranoia, this
is Stabhim.
[The scutter drops the syringe and tries to shake hands with PARANOIA.
LISTER and CONFIDENCE walk in through the opposite door.]
LISTER: Yo, Rimmer, listen, we've been thinking. We think we can get
Kochanski back without turning you off.
PARANOIA: Oh, he's drunk. Yes. I can smell it from here.
LISTER: All we have to do is turn off all non-essential power systems
and Holly says it'll work.
CONFIDENCE: [holding a lightbulb over LISTER's head] Ding dong! Another
great idea from the people who brought you Beeeeer Milkshakes!
PARANOIA: How can you be so obsessed with a girl you hardly know?
CONFIDENCE: Hardly know, sir? You haven't heard the "-indling" song!
[sings] Our love I tried to kindle....
LISTER: Not now!
RIMMER: Lister, you're not having the disks.
LISTER: Why? Because she'll rank above you?
PARANOIA: But she's a bright, intelligent, good-looking, witty, upwardly
mobile officer. Why should she be interested in you?
RIMMER: Yes, why should she be interested in you?
LISTER: Yeah, why should she be interested in me?
CONFIDENCE: Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about that song. I
can't get it out of my head. Why? Because you're great! You're an
incredibly seductive, charming, charismatic, young stud!
LISTER: Oh, yeah! I forgot. That's why she'd be interested in me.
RIMMER: Lister, you're not having her disk or any disks.
CONFIDENCE: Come on, King, you know Rimmer. Where would he hide 'em?
LISTER: I don't know.
CONFIDENCE: Yes, you do.
PARANOIA: No, he doesn't.
CONFIDENCE: Come on, think "Winner"!
LISTER: Outside. Ouside the ship.
RIMMER: Uh... wrong, actually!
CONFIDENCE: Where outside?
LISTER: Well, he'd have to send the scutters.... and the disks would
have to be safe....
RIMMER: Wrong, wrong, absolutely brimming over with wrongability.
LISTER: And they'd have to be right under me nose he could laugh at me.
RIMMER: Wrong and getting wronger all the time.
LISTER: Outside out sleeping quarters. The solar panel outside our
sleeping quarters!
RIMMER: You followed me, you goit!
LISTER: Is that where they are?! That's incredible! I did it!
[SCENE: Medical Unit. The medicomp is smashed apart. The bits are
smoking, flashing, and making odd "broken" sounds.]
RIMMER: [walks in and sees the broken medicomp] Lister?
[SCENE: Drive Room. Later. LISTER is wearing a spacesuit, holding the
helmet under his arm.]
LISTER: How long now, Hol?
HOLLY: Can't be long now, Dave. Hercule has got all the suspects in one
room and I'm only too pages away from "also by the same author".
LISTER: No, Holly. The dust storm.
HOLLY: Oh, that. Any time now, it's almost subsided.
CONFIDENCE: [struts in wearing a spacesuit] Yeah, how's my baby boy?
Oh, look! You've got a body like a coat hanger! How can you make a
spacesuit look like evening wear?
RIMMER: [walking in] Let me ask you one question?
LISTER: It's no use arguing, Rimmer. I'm going.
RIMMER: Who smashed up the medicomp?
CONFIDENCE: He's stalling, King. Let's go.
RIMMER: Holly, give him a punch up.
[The image of the smoldering medicomp appears on one of the monitors.]
LISTER: Look, what's in it for them, smashing up the medical unit?
RIMMER: Lister, come here. Come here. [LISTER walks up to him.
CONFIDENCE listens over LISTER's shoulder.] You are still sick.
LISTER: I feel great.
RIMMER: You will not... [glances at CONFIDENCE] You will not... [glares
at CONFIDENCE] You will not be better until they've gone. They know
that and now they've stopped you getting any treatment. Where's
Paranoia?
CONFIDENCE: I don't know. Is it someplace near Uruguay? Heh heh heh!
Who is this joker?
RIMMER: Lister, they're germs and they're dangerous.
HOLLY: The storm has passed, Dave. Airlocks are now released.
CONFIDENCE: What are we waiting for, King?
LISTER: [looks at RIMMER] Nothing.
[LISTER and CONFIDENCE head out.]
RIMMER: Holly, put a trace on Paranoia.
HOLLY: What's a trace?
RIMMER: It's space jargon. It means find him.
HOLLY: No, it doesn't. You just made it up to be cool.
RIMMER: Where is he?
HOLLY: Paranoia is no longer aboard this ship.
[SCENE: Red Dwarf Exterior. LISTER and CONFIDENCE are walking along a
catwalk on the side of Red Dwarf. Presumably near the sleeping
quarters.]
CONFIDENCE: Hey, look at that view, Kingo! Me and you, on top of the
world! Makes you wanna dance! Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha....
LISTER: [finds the disks] Hey, here it is!
CONFIDENCE: Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha....
LISTER: [holding a disk box] Did you hear something?
CONFIDENCE: Nope. In space, no one can hear you cha-cha-cha!
LISTER: You don't think Paranoia could've got here first, do you?
CONFIDENCE: Forget him, he's no danger.
LISTER: He smashed up the medical unit.
CONFIDENCE: No, he didn't.
LISTER: What do you mean?
CONFIDENCE: I did!
LISTER: You did?
CONFIDENCE: So we can be together, Davey! You don't want to get cured.
I did it for you!
LISTER: So where did he go, then?
CONFIDENCE: I killed him. Cha-cha-cha....
LISTER: What do you mean, you "killed him cha-cha-cha"?!
CONFIDENCE: Hey, don't look at me like that. He didn't suffer. I just
fed him into the waste grinder and flushed his bits into space.
LISTER: Look, I'm gonna go inside now. Gets a little bit hot, you could
get claustrophobic in these suits.
CONFIDENCE: Take your helmet off.
LISTER: [backing away] What?!
CONFIDENCE: [following LISTER] You're hot. Take your helmet off.
LISTER: I'll die!
CONFIDENCE: Why?
LISTER: There's no oxygen out here!
CONFIDENCE: Hey! Oxygen's for losers! Come on.
LISTER: I need oxygen!
CONFIDENCE: You don't need anything, King. You're the King!
[LISTER has reached the end of the catwalk.]
LISTER: You're crazy!
[LISTER grabs the handrail and vaults around behind CONFIDENCE.]
CONFIDENCE: Who told you you needed oxygen, huh? Some loser who was
trying to make you feel small. Look, I'll prove it to you. I'll take
mine off first. We'll soon see who the crazy one is around here!
[starts taking off his helmet]
LISTER: NO!!!
[CONFIDENCE removes his helmet and his body decompresses which is to say
it explodes all over the place.]
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. The CAT has his clothes hung up on laundry
lines around the room. RIMMER whistles to himself.]
RIMMER: Must you do this now?
CAT: I'm doing my laundry!
RIMMER: It's totally disgusting.
CAT: What's disgusting? [proceeds to lick the collar of one of the
shirts enthusiastically]
RIMMER: Lister.
LISTER: Yeah?
RIMMER: I just want to say I was right all along. I said they were
germs and they were germs.
LISTER: Yeah, okay, so what?
RIMMER: And I'm just saying now, that disk will only bring you misery.
I just want you to remember that I said that.
LISTER: Look, if she comes back and she's not interested, I can handle
it.
RIMMER: Whatever, Lister. I just want it on record: that disk is a
one-way ticket to Miseryville.
LISTER: Yeah, well, I spent enough time listening to me Paranoia. Now
I'm gonna listen to me Confidence. [heads out with the disk]
[RIMMER executes a Full-Rimmer salute and heads out the door, humming a
marching tune. The CAT tries out the salute, waves it off, and then
dances out of the room.]
[SCENE: Drive Room. LISTER is standing in front of the central station,
looking at the disk.]
LISTER: Hi, Krissie. It's not gonna work. Hello, Krissie. That's not
gonna work either. [overly macho] Hey, yo, Krissie! [high and wimpy]
Hi.... [he loads the disk into the simulator]
[RIMMER and the CAT walk in.]
RIMMER: Lister, good luck. I mean it.
LISTER: Smeg off.
RIMMER: No, honestly, I mean it. Good luck.
LISTER: Okay, Hol. Switch it on.
[On the other side of the room, another hologram of RIMMER appears.]
RIMMER #2: Well, he did warn you.
RIMMER: I certainly did. [to LISTER] Do you honestly think I'd put
Kochanski's disk in Kochanski's box where any Munchkin could find it?
You think you had it bad before, Lister? Well now you've got it in
stereo, baby. [to RIMMER #2] Welcome aboard, Rimmsie.
RIMMER #2: Nice to be here, Mr. Rimmer, you son of a gun.
The End
CREDITS:
Arnold J. Rimmer Chris Barrie
Dave Lister Craig Charles
Cat Danny John-Jules
Holly Norman Lovett
Written by Bob Grant
Doug Naylor
Music Howard Goodall
Developed for Television by Paul Jackson Productions
Graphic Designer Mark Allen
Visual Effects Designer Peter Wragg
Prop Buyer Mike Fallon
Assistant Floor Manager Dona Distefano
Production Assistant Alison Thornber
Unit Manager Mario Dubois
Production Manager George R. Clarke
Costume Designer Jacki Pinks
Make-up Designer Suzanne Jansen
Vision Mixer Jill Dornan
Camera Supervisor Mike Jackson
Technical Co-ordinator Ron Clare
Videotape Editor Ed Wooden
Lighting Director John Pomphrey
Sound Supervisor Tony Worthington
Designer Paul Montague
Executive Producer Paul Jackson
Producer & Director Ed Bye
GUEST CAST:
Paranoia Lee Cornes
Confidence Craig Ferguson
ADDITIONAL CREDITS:
Technical Co-ordinator John Spicer
Red Dwarf Episodes
Red Dwarf
Season 1, Episode 5:
Confidence and Paranoia
by Bob Grant and Doug Naylor
HOLLY: This is an SOS distress call from the mining ship Red Dwarf. The
crew are dead, killed by a radiation leak. The only survivors are
Dave Lister, who was in suspended animation during the disaster, and
his pregnant cat, who was safely sealed in the hold. Revived three
million years later, Lister's only companions are a life form who
evolved from his cat, and Arnold Rimmer, a hologram simulation of one
of the dead crew. We have been travelling through the galaxy now for
three million years and there are many things we've discovered. The
highest form of life in the universe is Man and the lowest is a man
who works for the post office.
[SCENE: The Drive Room. LISTER is watching a soppy movie on one the
screens while drinking a beer milkshake and eating a bowl full of french
fries. Romantic piano music plays in the background of the film.]
CAROL: [in the film] Oh, Jim, weren't you the one who said we have to
seize our moments because they may never come again?
[LISTER gurgles sadly into his milkshake.]
JIM: [in the film] This is our moment, right here and now. Let's seize
it together.
CAROL: Oh, you must know, I'm dying!
JIM: I know, Carol. Dr. Graham told me everything. [The music swells.]
[HOLLY appears on the screen, interrupting the movie.]
HOLLY: Busy are you, Dave?
LISTER: Hol! I'm watching the film.
HOLLY: Just wondered if you're a bit bored.
LISTER: No, no. I'm watching the film.
HOLLY: You're not bored, then?
LISTER: No, go away!
[The film reappears on the screen.]
CAROL: Oh, you must know, I'm dying!
JIM: I know, Carol. Dr. Graham told me everything. [The music swells.]
[LISTER opens his mouth to sob and a mouthful of milkshake gushes onto
his shirt. He doesn't seem to notice.]
[HOLLY appears on the screen, interrupting the movie.]
HOLLY: I've just finished reading everything. I've now read everything
that's been written anywhere, by anyone ever.
LISTER: Would you go away?
HOLLY: You know what the worst book ever written by anyone ever was?
LISTER: I don't care!
HOLLY: "Football, It's a Funny Old Game" by Kevin Keegan.
LISTER: Holly, would you let watch the film?
[The film reappears on the screen. HOLLY reappears on the screen,
interrupting the movie.]
HOLLY: I'm at a loose end now. I don't know what to do with meself.
LISTER: Holly, why don't you just read everything all over again.
HOLLY: I was thinking it might help pass the time if I created a
perfectly functioning replica of a woman, capable of independant
decision making and abstract thought and absolutely undetectable from
the real thing.
LISTER: [sitting up eagerly] Well why don't you, then?
HOLLY: Because I don't know how. I wouldn't even know how to make the
nose. Heh.
LISTER: Holly, is there something that you want?
HOLLY: Well only if you're not busy, would you mind erasing some of my
memory banks?
LISTER: What for?
HOLLY: Well, if you erase all the Agatha Christie novels from my memory,
I can read 'em again tonight.
LISTER: How do I do it?
HOLLY: Just type, "HolMem. Password override. The novels Christie,
Agatha." Then press erase.
[LISTER jabs two-fingered on a keyboard.]
LISTER: I've done it.
HOLLY: Done what?
LISTER: Erased Agatha Christie.
HOLLY: Who's she, then?
LISTER: Holly, you just asked me to erase all Agatha Christie novels
from your memory.
HOLLY: Why should I do that? I've never heard of her.
LISTER: You've never heard of her because I've just erased her from your
smegging memory.
HOLLY: What'd you do that for?
LISTER: You asked me to!
HOLLY: When?
LISTER: Just now!
HOLLY: I don't remember this.
LISTER: Oh, I'm going to bed. This is gonna go on all night.
[LISTER grabs his milkshake and fries and walks out of the room.]
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. LISTER lies in his top bunk, watching the
soppy film in the screen over the sink.]
CAROL: ...dying!
JIM: I know, Carol. Dr. Graham told me everything. [The music swells.]
RIMMER: [marching in] Off! [The screen turns into a mirror.] Ah, had a
good day, Lister? Scrummed enough choccies, watched enough drivel,
have you? Look at you; you're turning into a sad, middle-aged woman.
Next thing you know you'll be varnishing your nails and buying
girdles.
LISTER: Oh yeah, and what've you done that's so great?
RIMMER: I've achieved seventeen things today off my daily goal list,
whereas you've never achieved anything ever in your entire life.
LISTER: Don't know, you know. I went to the Officer's Block.
RIMMER: When?!
LISTER: This morning.
RIMMER: But it hasn't been decontaminated!
LISTER: You said it had last week!
RIMMER: No, I said it was on last Thursday's daily goal list!
LISTER: And you haven't done it yet?!
RIMMER: Tommorow. It's on tomorrow's daily goal list. Item 34, right
after "Learn Portugese".
LISTER: Thanks a lot. Don't tell me.
RIMMER: Why were you mooching around up there, anyway?
LISTER: I was looking through Kochanski's dream recorder. She dreamed
about me three times, you know. It was in the log.
RIMMER: So? Clean my teeth, please, Holly? [bares his teeth as if
they're being brushed]
LISTER: I mean, it must mean something. You don't dream about someone
that you don't feel something for.
RIMMER: Lister, I once had a dream about a babboon but that doesn't mean
I want to go to bed with it. Shave, please, Holly. [scrunches his
mouth up and sticks out his jaw] Lister, you ought to take a good long
look at yourself and then you'd see just how ridiculous you appear to
other people.
LISTER: If you'd let me have Kochanski's personality disk for like one
second, maybe I could find out.
RIMMER: Lister, if you were a Love Celibate like me you wouldn't have
these problems.
LISTER: Come on, Rimmer, the only reason you knocked around with those
prats from the Love Celibacy Society was you could never get a date.
RIMMER: No, it wasn't. I happen to agree with their philsophy that love
is a sickness that holds back your career and makes you want to spend
all your money.
LISTER: You could never get a date because you let your mum buy all your
casual clothes.
RIMMER: There is nothing wrong with my casual clothes.
LISTER: Oh, come on, Rimmer, your trousers were so short when you
crossed your legs, you could see your knees.
RIMMER: What about Yvonne MacGruder? That was a date.
LISTER: She'd been hit on the head by a winch, she had a concussion.
RIMMER: That's got nothing to do with it. She was crazy about me.
LISTER: Oh, yeah? She kept calling you "Norman".
RIMMER: She still went to bed with me.
LISTER: Yeah, because she had wonky vision and she thought you were
somebody else.
RIMMER: Serves her right for being concussed, doesn't it?
[RIMMER lies down on his bunk]
LISTER: Rimmer, you don't know what love is.
RIMMER: Yes, I do. Love is a device invented by bank managers to make
us overdrawn. Lights.
LISTER: Rimmer... love is what makes us different from animals.
RIMMER: No, Lister, what makes us different from animals is we don't use
our tongues to clean our own genitals.
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. Later that same night. LISTER is moaning,
sweating, and cringing in the top bunk. RIMMER sleeps peacefully in the
bottom bunk.]
LISTER: Lights! [the room lights go on] Rimmer, are you awake? Rimmer!
Are you awake?!
RIMMER: [jerking awake] What? Yes, Mum, I'm just packing my satchel.
Where am I? What time is it?
LISTER: I don't feel very well.
RIMMER: [looking at a clock] Half past three?!
LISTER: I feel really ill.
RIMMER: Well you are really ill.
LISTER: No, I mean, _really_ ill. [sobbing] I'm going down to the
medical unit. I don't feel very well.
[LISTER drops out of bed and stumbles out of the room, clutching his
blanket (which says, "Hilton" on it) around himself.]
RIMMER: Lights! [the light go back off. RIMMER settles back to sleep]
Ah, Miss MacGruder, where were we?
[SCENE: Level 159, outside the Sleeping Quarters.]
[LISTER stumbles on the corridor, sobbing, sweating, shivering.]
LISTER: I feel really hot.
[LISTER stumbles and falls to the floor, unconscious.]
[Scene: Level 147. The CAT is dancing along the corridor, spraying
various items with a small misting bottle.]
CAT: Hey, this is mine. That's mine. All this is mine. I'm claiming
all this as mine. Except that bit. I don't want that bit. But all
the rest of this is mine. 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 **** with something.
[dancing away] Oooooooooow, yeaaaaaaah....
[SCENE: Level 159. LISTER is still unconscious on the floor as the CAT
dances up the corridor toward him.]
CAT: [singing] S-E-X, you know I want it! S-E-X, I'm gonna get it!
[seeing LISTER] S-E-X, I think I found it! [recognizes LISTER and
crouches down beside him] Oh, it's you! Hey, monkey, you're sick.
Sick, helpless, and unconscious. If you weren't my friend, I'd steal
your shoes. [sprays LISTER with the misting bottle and stands up] Time
for a snack. This way. [dances away]
HOLLY: Emergency. There's an emergency going on. It's still going on.
It's still an emergency. Will Arnold Rimmer please hurry to White
Corridor 159. This is an emergency announcement.
[SCENE: The Dining Area. The CAT stands at a food dispenser.]
CAT: Food!
DISPENSER: Today's Speciality is Chicken Meringue.
[A chicken meringue with dinner rolls drops into the dispensing shelf.
The CAT takes it and dances to a table.]
CAT: [singing] I'm gonna eat you little chickie. I'm gonna eat you
little chickie. I'm gonna eat you little chickie. [flicks the chicken
off the table to one side, catching it before it hits the ground] Uh
uh, too slow, chicken merango. Too slow for this cat. [places the
chicken back on his plate, looks away, and flicks the chicken off the
other side, onto the floor] Hey! This chicken is faster than I
thought! [retrieves the chicken]
RIMMER: [running into the room] Quick! Lister's fainted! He needs
help! Quick!
[RIMMER runs back out. The CAT jumps up, then sits back down again.]
RIMMER: [runs back in] Didn't you hear me? Didn't anyone hear me?
Lister's in trouble. The monkey, oo oo oo, has fainted. I can not
pick him up. Quick! Come on! Now!
[RIMMER runs back out. The CAT jumps up, then sits back down again.]
RIMMER: [walks back in] Is there something wrong with you? Lister's
collapsed!
CAT: Yeah?
RIMMER: What do you mean "yeah"? He needs help!
CAT: And?
RIMMER: And if you don't help him he might die.
CAT: Aw, no. That's too bad. I really liked him, too.
RIMMER: So, come and help him.
CAT: What? And interrupt my lunch?!
RIMMER: What is more important: a man's life or your smegging lunch?
CAT: That doesn't even deserve an answer.
RIMMER: Right. Okay. Fine. [points to the scutters] You come with me.
You get a stretcher.
[The CAT juggles his dinner rolls, sticks one in his mouth and holds the
other two over his eyes.]
[SCENE: The Medical Unit. LISTER is sitting in a wheelchair, wrapped in
his blanket. RIMMER stands beside the medicomp, a medical computer. One
of the scutters is on a counter, holding a thermometer.]
RIMMER: [directing the scutter] Down. Down. Okay, stop.
LISTER: Let the medicomp take my temperature.
RIMMER: Lister, they've got to learn. Down, down, slowly now. Ah ah,
now very, very, very slowly forward.
[The scutter jabs the thermometer into LISTER's eye.]
LISTER: AIGH! Me eye!
RIMMER: Lister, they've got to learn.
LISTER: I've just nearly lost an eye!
RIMMER: How about an **** reading?
LISTER: I'm all right! I feel fine now.
RIMMER: Well, you're not fine. And it's your own smegging fault for
going up to the Officer's Deck before it was decontaminated.
LISTER: I just wanted to have a look around.
RIMMER: You just wanted to go into Kochanski's quarters and wallow in
self-pity and look what's it got you!
LISTER: I'm all right. I've got a touch of pneumonia. That's all.
RIMNER: It's not pneumonia. Three million years ago it was pneumonia
but since then it's bred and mutated and now we don't know what it is.
LISTER: Why didn't I ask her out? What's the worst she could've said?
RIMMER: She could've said, "No, you're a filthy, loathsome, disgusting
object I wouldn't be seen dead with in a plague pit."
LISTER: She could've said, "yes". Stranger things have happened.
RIMMER: Only two spring to mind, Lister: the spontaneous combustion of
the Mayor of Warsaw in 1546 and that incident in 12th century Burgandy
when it rained herring.
LISTER: There's this theory that me and Chen used to have. It's like
everyone's got two people inside you. You've got your confidence and
paranoia. And your confidence's the guy who goes, "Hey you're great.
You're dead sexy! Everybody loves you!" And your paranoia says,
"You're stupid. You're useless. You're ugly. And everybody hates
you."
RIMMER: [looking at the medicomp] That's odd, Lister. According to this
reading, you're clinically dead.
LISTER: And what that was was my confidence was just about to persuade
me to ask Kochanski out and as I was walking up to her he'd go on a
business trip to Hawaii or something and I'd be left with my paranoia
saying, "You must be joking. She's gonna laugh in our face."
RIMMER: You know, sometimes, Lister, you can be quite perceptive and
thought-provoking. And other times, like this, you can rant and
drivel on like a complete loonie.
LISTER: Just take me to me bed.
RIMMER: All right, Lister. [to the scutter on the floor] Okay, you know
how it works. Now release the mechanism very, very, very gently.
[The scutter flicks a switch and LISTER and his wheelchair zip across
the room and crash into a table.]
RIMMER: Possibly a gnat's more gently than that.
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. LISTER is lying in bed, having an nightmare.
RIMMER is standing in front of the mirror, practising the Full-Rimmer,
Triple-Rimmer, and a Two-Handed-Rimmer salute.]
LISTER: [in his sleep] Quick! Get an umbrella. Get an umbrella. Quick,
get an umbrella. Get an umbrella. Cor! Ungh...
RIMMER: [reading from a poster tacked over the sink] "Necrobics,
Hologrammatic Exercises for the Dead."
LISTER: It's raining. It's raining down. Get an umbrella! It's
raining. It's raining.
[RIMMER clenches up his face and starts rolling his head around.
Something falls from the ceiling. Another one falls. RIMMER opens his
eyes to see herring falling from the ceiling. He stares in amazement as
more and more herring start to rain down from the ceiling. RIMMER backs
out of the room.]
[SCENE: Corridor 159. RIMMER continues to back out of the room.]
RIMMER: Holly, what's going on?
HOLLY: What?
RIMMER: What's happening?
HOLLY: Um, Hercule Poirot's just stepped off the steaming train. And if
you want my opinion, I think they all did it.
RIMMER: Why did we have to have you as the ship's computer? We'd be
better off with a bucket of sheep's slop running things.
HOLLY: If you've got a complaint, just come straight out with it. Don't
hide behind innuendo and hyperbole.
RIMMER: Why is it raining fish in our sleeping quarters?!
HOLLY: I'd be lying if I said I knew. The only comparable incident is
in 12th century Burgandy when it rained herring.
[The Mayor of Warsaw walks up to RIMMER, ringing a bell. He stops, then
spontaneously combusts in a flash, leaving only a pile of clothes
behind.]
RIMMER: It really is gonna be one of those days.
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. LISTER lying in bed. The CAT struts in with
a silvery shopping bag.]
CAT: Hey, you're awake!
LISTER: Yeah, I've just woke up.
CAT: Yeah, well, I've brought you some presents!
LISTER: Aw, you shouldn't have bothered.
CAT: Ha ha! Well, I'm that kind of guy! Hey, let's see what we've got
in the magic bag here! I got you some.... grapes! [holds up the bare
stems of an ex-bunch of grapes] And I got you got you an.... orange!
[holds up an orange peel]
LISTER: Thanks a lot, I feel better already.
CAT: Hey, well, all this enormous generosity has made me tired. I'm
going to bed. [takes LISTER's pillow and blanket and lies down on the
bottom bunk] Ah, yes, indeedy.
[RIMMER walks in.]
RIMMER: [to LISTER] You're awake.
CAT: Yeah, but I'll be asleep in a minute.
RIMMER: [to LISTER] How do you feel?
CAT: Fine. Just don't ask me anymore questions. I'm trying to sleep!
RIMMER: [to the CAT] Shut up, you stupid moggey! And out of that bed!
CAT: [getting out of bed] Well, if you're going to speak to me like
that, I'm gonna take my presents back! [grabs the bag and heads for
the door]
RIMMER: [to LISTER] How do you feel?
CAT: [walking out the room] Hurt!
LISTER: I feel great.
RIMMER: Listen, Lister, you had a fever, okay?
LISTER: Yeah?
RIMMER: And, you started to hallucinate, all right?
LISTER: Yeah?
RIMMER: Only your hallucinations.... were solid.
LISTER: What do you mean, "solid"?
RIMMER: I mean they were real, alive, solid.
LISTER: Solid?
RIMMER: Solid.
LISTER: What do you mean, "they were solid"?
RIMMER: Okay, I'll put it another way. You had hallucinations, all
right?
LISTER: Yeah?
RIMMER: And they were solid. I told you it wasn't ordinary pneumonia. I
told you it was mutated. I knew something like this would happen.
LISTER: Okay, well, what did I hallucinate?
RIMMER: Well, first of all, it was fish rain.
LISTER: Fish rain? Yeah, I dreamt that!
RIMMER: Well, it actually happened!
LISTER: Where's all the fish?
CAT: [sticking his head in the door] Somebody ate them!
RIMMER: Then, the Mayor of Warsaw spontaneously combusted. And then you
hallucinated two men in the Drive Room.
LISTER: What two men?
RIMMER: Apparently, one of them's your confidence and the other one's
your paranoia.
[SCENE: Drive Room. CONFIDENCE is a bulky man in loud yellow plaids,
gold chains, and slicked back hair. He is eating a steak on the central
station. PARANOIA is a scrawny, stooped, sunken-eyed man in a black
suit, sitting at a work station, eating a yogurt and sneering at
CONFIDENCE.]
[LISTER and RIMMER walk in.]
CONFIDENCE: [jumps out] Hey! It's the king! [kisses LISTER] Mr.
Beautiful! [to RIMMER] Hey, you, what does the "H" stand for? Horace?
A chair for the king, Horace. And breakfast. Mr. Wonderful wishes to
dine. [guiding LISTER to a chair] Have you lost weight? You look
great. [to the others] Is he totally perfect or what?
LISTER: [grinning widely] You're my confidence?
CONFIDENCE: I just love that accent. It makes me go all quibbley!
LISTER: I don't get it. You look like the manager of the London Jets
but you sound like Bing Baxter, the American quiz show host.
CONFIDENCE: [smiles] I'm all the things you associate with confidence,
King.
LISTER: [to PARANOIA] And you're my paranoia?
PARANOIA: Isn't that a urine stain on the front of your trousers?
LISTER: What? [looks at this groin] No, it isn't. It's tea.
PARANOIA: [approaching LISTER] So how are you anyway? Isn't that a huge
spot appearing on your so-called face? My god, you've got fat,
haven't you? Must be all that lager. Bet you've got a terminal
disease. Always happens to the people who least expect it. Don't you
find that? Say "hello", then, won't you? [walking back to his seat]
I'm only trying to be friendly.
[LISTER is looking decidedly worried.]
CONFIDENCE: [to LISTER] Baby, baby, what can I say? [to the others] Is
he the greatest, most fantasic, most handsome guy ever, or am I
insane?
RIMMER: [to CONFIDENCE] You're insane. [to LISTER] Lister, what are you
going to do about them?
LISTER: Do? What can I do?
RIMMER: I think we should arrest them.
LISTER: What for?
RIMMER: For being hallucinations.
LISTER: Come on, smeghead. It's a bit of company, isn't it?
RIMMER: Lister, you're still sick. These two are symptoms of your
disease. They're like the spots in measles, the swelling in mumps, the
funny walk in cystitis. Until they're gone, you won't be better.
CONFIDENCE: Hey, now I know what the "H" stands for. "Hidiot"! Am I
right? Heh heh heh!
RIMMER: [to CONFIDENCE] You are treading on a very thin line, miladdo.
The "H" stands for "Hologram". I happen to be dead.
CONFIDENCE: Couldn't happen to a more deserving guy. [to LISTER] Come
on, King. Forget those losers. Let's go party.
RIMMER: No, I forbid it!
LISTER: Why?
PARANOIA: Why do you never listen to Mr. Rimmer? He's so much more
experienced, more level-headed, so much.... better than you.
CONFIDENCE: [putting an arm around LISTER] Listen, no one is better than
Mr. Magnificent and no one tells the Prince of Charisma what to do.
Right, Prince?
LISTER: [smiling] Yeah, right!
CONFIDENCE: That's my Davey-boy! Oohoo!
[CONFIDENCE leads LISTER out of the room.]
RIMMER: I don't believe it, he's socializing with a figment of his
imagination.
PARANOIA: Yes.
[RIMMER makes a pained expression at PARANOIA's back.]
[SCENE: View of Space. Lots of dust swirls around.]
HOLLY: Please note the dust storm approaching. The ship exterior is
now out of bounds. All air locks are being automatically sealed.
Estimated duration: eighteen hours.
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. CONFIDENCE listens as LISTER strums
dischordantly at his guitar.]
LISTER: [singing] ....our love I tried to kindle, like firelight it...
dwindles, now I wonder when this.... wind'll ever.... stop------.
CONFIDENCE: [incredulously] You wrote that?
LISTER: Yeah, but that was ages ago, you know.
CONFIDENCE: That is the greatest love song ever.
LISTER: Come on!
CONFIDENCE: Ever! It's so deep. All the images! The kindling, the
dwindling, all the -indling! I love all that stuff! When I think
there's fast buck merchants like Beethoven and Mozart out there
grabbing all the publicity and here's you, writing pieces of that
caleeber, it makes me feel weak.
LISTER: [noticing CONFIDENCE is putting a cigarette butt in his pocket]
What are you doing with that cigarette butt?
CONFIDENCE: Oh, you've embarassed me now. It's just that, your lips
have touched it. Your lips! The King's kissing lips! And I just
wanted some proof that I'd actually met the Duke of Deliciousness!
LISTER: You're serious, aren't you?
CONFIDENCE: Serious about what?
LISTER: I'm a nobody! Out of a hundred and sixty-nine people aboard
this ship, I ranked one-six-nine. Bottom of the pile.
CONFIDENCE: That's because you didn't want all that career stuff. You
wanted your farm on Fiji with you-know-who. [holds up a polaroid of
Kochanski]
LISTER: If she'd've come.
CONFIDENCE: If? IF?! And turn down the opportunity of becoming the
envy of all womankind?
LISTER: Oh, we'll never know now.
CONFIDENCE: Why not?
LISTER: She's dead.
CONFIDENCE: So? So's Rimmer. Bring her back.
LISTER: I can't. Holly can only sustain one hologram and Rimmer's
hidden all the other personality disks.
CONFIDENCE: So? Find them.
LISTER: I can't.
CONFIDENCE: King. You can do anything! Anything!
[SCENE: Drive Room. PARANOIA and RIMMER are standing together.]
PARANOIA: ...anything. He can't do anything.
RIMMER: Oh, I know, I know. I'll bet five.
PARANOIA: Do you know he used to practice kissing on his own?
RIMMER: How?
PARANOIA: [demonstrating] He made lips out of one hand and waggled his
thumb through the gap, like a tongue.
RIMMER: That is priceless! It really is.
PARANOIA: Seventeen years old and he used to snog his own hand. Once,
in front of the whole school, he called his gym teacher "Daddy".
[A scutter rolls in a door behind PARANOIA, holding a syringe.]
PARANOIA: I could've died with embarassment.
RIMMER: [leaning closer to PARANOIA, trying to keep him distracted] Oh,
what a silly thing to call a gym master.
PARANOIA: I'm racked with guilt. I hate him.
RIMMER: Why do you hate him? Why do you talk about him so much?
PARANOIA: Because he makes my life one big, humiliating, cringe-making,
guilt-ridden hell!
RIMMER: [shouting to the scutter] NOW! QUICK! STAB HIM! STAB HIM!
STAB HIM!
[PARANOIA turns to look at the scutter which has hardly moved.]
RIMMER: [to PARANOIA] Uh, you haven't met "Stabhim". He's one of the
scutters. Stabhim, meet Lister's paranoia. Lister's paranoia, this
is Stabhim.
[The scutter drops the syringe and tries to shake hands with PARANOIA.
LISTER and CONFIDENCE walk in through the opposite door.]
LISTER: Yo, Rimmer, listen, we've been thinking. We think we can get
Kochanski back without turning you off.
PARANOIA: Oh, he's drunk. Yes. I can smell it from here.
LISTER: All we have to do is turn off all non-essential power systems
and Holly says it'll work.
CONFIDENCE: [holding a lightbulb over LISTER's head] Ding dong! Another
great idea from the people who brought you Beeeeer Milkshakes!
PARANOIA: How can you be so obsessed with a girl you hardly know?
CONFIDENCE: Hardly know, sir? You haven't heard the "-indling" song!
[sings] Our love I tried to kindle....
LISTER: Not now!
RIMMER: Lister, you're not having the disks.
LISTER: Why? Because she'll rank above you?
PARANOIA: But she's a bright, intelligent, good-looking, witty, upwardly
mobile officer. Why should she be interested in you?
RIMMER: Yes, why should she be interested in you?
LISTER: Yeah, why should she be interested in me?
CONFIDENCE: Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about that song. I
can't get it out of my head. Why? Because you're great! You're an
incredibly seductive, charming, charismatic, young stud!
LISTER: Oh, yeah! I forgot. That's why she'd be interested in me.
RIMMER: Lister, you're not having her disk or any disks.
CONFIDENCE: Come on, King, you know Rimmer. Where would he hide 'em?
LISTER: I don't know.
CONFIDENCE: Yes, you do.
PARANOIA: No, he doesn't.
CONFIDENCE: Come on, think "Winner"!
LISTER: Outside. Ouside the ship.
RIMMER: Uh... wrong, actually!
CONFIDENCE: Where outside?
LISTER: Well, he'd have to send the scutters.... and the disks would
have to be safe....
RIMMER: Wrong, wrong, absolutely brimming over with wrongability.
LISTER: And they'd have to be right under me nose he could laugh at me.
RIMMER: Wrong and getting wronger all the time.
LISTER: Outside out sleeping quarters. The solar panel outside our
sleeping quarters!
RIMMER: You followed me, you goit!
LISTER: Is that where they are?! That's incredible! I did it!
[SCENE: Medical Unit. The medicomp is smashed apart. The bits are
smoking, flashing, and making odd "broken" sounds.]
RIMMER: [walks in and sees the broken medicomp] Lister?
[SCENE: Drive Room. Later. LISTER is wearing a spacesuit, holding the
helmet under his arm.]
LISTER: How long now, Hol?
HOLLY: Can't be long now, Dave. Hercule has got all the suspects in one
room and I'm only too pages away from "also by the same author".
LISTER: No, Holly. The dust storm.
HOLLY: Oh, that. Any time now, it's almost subsided.
CONFIDENCE: [struts in wearing a spacesuit] Yeah, how's my baby boy?
Oh, look! You've got a body like a coat hanger! How can you make a
spacesuit look like evening wear?
RIMMER: [walking in] Let me ask you one question?
LISTER: It's no use arguing, Rimmer. I'm going.
RIMMER: Who smashed up the medicomp?
CONFIDENCE: He's stalling, King. Let's go.
RIMMER: Holly, give him a punch up.
[The image of the smoldering medicomp appears on one of the monitors.]
LISTER: Look, what's in it for them, smashing up the medical unit?
RIMMER: Lister, come here. Come here. [LISTER walks up to him.
CONFIDENCE listens over LISTER's shoulder.] You are still sick.
LISTER: I feel great.
RIMMER: You will not... [glances at CONFIDENCE] You will not... [glares
at CONFIDENCE] You will not be better until they've gone. They know
that and now they've stopped you getting any treatment. Where's
Paranoia?
CONFIDENCE: I don't know. Is it someplace near Uruguay? Heh heh heh!
Who is this joker?
RIMMER: Lister, they're germs and they're dangerous.
HOLLY: The storm has passed, Dave. Airlocks are now released.
CONFIDENCE: What are we waiting for, King?
LISTER: [looks at RIMMER] Nothing.
[LISTER and CONFIDENCE head out.]
RIMMER: Holly, put a trace on Paranoia.
HOLLY: What's a trace?
RIMMER: It's space jargon. It means find him.
HOLLY: No, it doesn't. You just made it up to be cool.
RIMMER: Where is he?
HOLLY: Paranoia is no longer aboard this ship.
[SCENE: Red Dwarf Exterior. LISTER and CONFIDENCE are walking along a
catwalk on the side of Red Dwarf. Presumably near the sleeping
quarters.]
CONFIDENCE: Hey, look at that view, Kingo! Me and you, on top of the
world! Makes you wanna dance! Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha....
LISTER: [finds the disks] Hey, here it is!
CONFIDENCE: Cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha cha....
LISTER: [holding a disk box] Did you hear something?
CONFIDENCE: Nope. In space, no one can hear you cha-cha-cha!
LISTER: You don't think Paranoia could've got here first, do you?
CONFIDENCE: Forget him, he's no danger.
LISTER: He smashed up the medical unit.
CONFIDENCE: No, he didn't.
LISTER: What do you mean?
CONFIDENCE: I did!
LISTER: You did?
CONFIDENCE: So we can be together, Davey! You don't want to get cured.
I did it for you!
LISTER: So where did he go, then?
CONFIDENCE: I killed him. Cha-cha-cha....
LISTER: What do you mean, you "killed him cha-cha-cha"?!
CONFIDENCE: Hey, don't look at me like that. He didn't suffer. I just
fed him into the waste grinder and flushed his bits into space.
LISTER: Look, I'm gonna go inside now. Gets a little bit hot, you could
get claustrophobic in these suits.
CONFIDENCE: Take your helmet off.
LISTER: [backing away] What?!
CONFIDENCE: [following LISTER] You're hot. Take your helmet off.
LISTER: I'll die!
CONFIDENCE: Why?
LISTER: There's no oxygen out here!
CONFIDENCE: Hey! Oxygen's for losers! Come on.
LISTER: I need oxygen!
CONFIDENCE: You don't need anything, King. You're the King!
[LISTER has reached the end of the catwalk.]
LISTER: You're crazy!
[LISTER grabs the handrail and vaults around behind CONFIDENCE.]
CONFIDENCE: Who told you you needed oxygen, huh? Some loser who was
trying to make you feel small. Look, I'll prove it to you. I'll take
mine off first. We'll soon see who the crazy one is around here!
[starts taking off his helmet]
LISTER: NO!!!
[CONFIDENCE removes his helmet and his body decompresses which is to say
it explodes all over the place.]
[SCENE: Sleeping Quarters. The CAT has his clothes hung up on laundry
lines around the room. RIMMER whistles to himself.]
RIMMER: Must you do this now?
CAT: I'm doing my laundry!
RIMMER: It's totally disgusting.
CAT: What's disgusting? [proceeds to lick the collar of one of the
shirts enthusiastically]
RIMMER: Lister.
LISTER: Yeah?
RIMMER: I just want to say I was right all along. I said they were
germs and they were germs.
LISTER: Yeah, okay, so what?
RIMMER: And I'm just saying now, that disk will only bring you misery.
I just want you to remember that I said that.
LISTER: Look, if she comes back and she's not interested, I can handle
it.
RIMMER: Whatever, Lister. I just want it on record: that disk is a
one-way ticket to Miseryville.
LISTER: Yeah, well, I spent enough time listening to me Paranoia. Now
I'm gonna listen to me Confidence. [heads out with the disk]
[RIMMER executes a Full-Rimmer salute and heads out the door, humming a
marching tune. The CAT tries out the salute, waves it off, and then
dances out of the room.]
[SCENE: Drive Room. LISTER is standing in front of the central station,
looking at the disk.]
LISTER: Hi, Krissie. It's not gonna work. Hello, Krissie. That's not
gonna work either. [overly macho] Hey, yo, Krissie! [high and wimpy]
Hi.... [he loads the disk into the simulator]
[RIMMER and the CAT walk in.]
RIMMER: Lister, good luck. I mean it.
LISTER: Smeg off.
RIMMER: No, honestly, I mean it. Good luck.
LISTER: Okay, Hol. Switch it on.
[On the other side of the room, another hologram of RIMMER appears.]
RIMMER #2: Well, he did warn you.
RIMMER: I certainly did. [to LISTER] Do you honestly think I'd put
Kochanski's disk in Kochanski's box where any Munchkin could find it?
You think you had it bad before, Lister? Well now you've got it in
stereo, baby. [to RIMMER #2] Welcome aboard, Rimmsie.
RIMMER #2: Nice to be here, Mr. Rimmer, you son of a gun.
The End
CREDITS:
Arnold J. Rimmer Chris Barrie
Dave Lister Craig Charles
Cat Danny John-Jules
Holly Norman Lovett
Written by Bob Grant
Doug Naylor
Music Howard Goodall
Developed for Television by Paul Jackson Productions
Graphic Designer Mark Allen
Visual Effects Designer Peter Wragg
Prop Buyer Mike Fallon
Assistant Floor Manager Dona Distefano
Production Assistant Alison Thornber
Unit Manager Mario Dubois
Production Manager George R. Clarke
Costume Designer Jacki Pinks
Make-up Designer Suzanne Jansen
Vision Mixer Jill Dornan
Camera Supervisor Mike Jackson
Technical Co-ordinator Ron Clare
Videotape Editor Ed Wooden
Lighting Director John Pomphrey
Sound Supervisor Tony Worthington
Designer Paul Montague
Executive Producer Paul Jackson
Producer & Director Ed Bye
GUEST CAST:
Paranoia Lee Cornes
Confidence Craig Ferguson
ADDITIONAL CREDITS:
Technical Co-ordinator John Spicer
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Members connected in real time
