MAG.E 4

home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search

/ MAG.E 4 / MAG.E 4 (Disk 2 of 2).adf / 94 / 94

Wrap

Text File | 1977-12-31 | 25KB | 486 lines

@4Red Dwarf - Series 6, Episode 1 - "Psirens" -------------------------------------------@1 Lister: Who the hell are you? [later] Kryten: Oh! Welcome back on line, Sir! How are you feeling? Lister: Not good - I don't know who I am. Where is this place? Kryten: Oh, you have a touch of amnesia. That's not uncommon after a prolonged period in deep sleep. Ah, you have been out for over two hundred years. Lister: TWO HUNDRED YEARS? Kryten: Well, I tried to wake you up in the spring but you absolutely insisted on another three months. I've just been preparing your breakfast tray. Lister: These cornflakes have got grated raw onions sprinkled on them! Kryten: That's how you like them, Sir! Lister: Gaargh! The orange juice is revoltin'! Kryten: Tha.. that's not orange juice, Sir. That's your early morning pick-me-up. Chilled vindaloo sauce. Lister: I drink cold curry sauce for breakfast? Kryten: Well, it depends on your mood. If you wake up in the afternoon you generally prefer to start the day with a can of last night's flat lager. That's why you sleep with a tea-strainer next to your bed, so you can sieve out the cigar dips. Lister: I drink, an' I smoke, an' I have cold curry sauce for breakfast? I sound like some barely-human grossed out slime-ball! Kryten: Oh, it's all flooding back is it, Sir? Lister: No, none of it is! Kryten: Perhaps this will help - your personal artifacts. Christine Kochanski - you dated her once for three weeks before she discarded you for a catering officer. Lister: She's beautiful. Kryten: It's your ambition, Sir, somehow, someday, to win her back, and then lie on top of her and move up and down rapidly in that... curious way humans find so agreeable. Personally, I prefer partnership whist. [pause] Lister: What - I play guitar? Kryten: Do I have a head shaped like an amusing ice-cube? Go ahead - chock out a few power chords, see if anything comes back. [pause] Kryten: Yeah! The axe-man is back! Lister: Don't patronise me. I can't play guitar. Anyone with half an ear can tell that. Kryten: Sir, as soon as your personality is fully restored, you will firmly believe you can play the guitar like the ghost of Hendrix. [pause] Lister: Is there somethin' good you can tell me about meself? Somethin'... laudable. Kryten: Laudable. Mmm. You sometimes help me out with my laundry duties by turning your underpants inside out and extending the wear time by three weeks. Lister: I'm an animal! I'm a tasteless, uncouth, mindless, tone-deaf, randy, blokish, semi-literate space bum! Kryten: Ooh! Welcome back Mr Lister, Sir! Lister: What's that? Kryten: That's Mr Rimmer, Sir. This is his light beam. [pause] Kryten: He's a hologram. Lister: Rimmer? He's my best mate, isn't he? Kryten: Sir! You're sick! Maybe a touch of er, synaptic enhancer will do the trick. [pause] Kryten: Initiating boot-up sequence. Downloading physical form. [pause] Kryten: Access personality banks. Load arrogance. Load charisma. Load neuroses. Download memory. Lister: Oh, that Rimmer! [later] Lister: Nice cornflakes! Nice an' oniony! Can you pass us that tobasco sauce - it just needs a bit more pep in it. [pause] Kryten: Congratulations, Sir! You're well on the way to full recall. Next thing you know you'll be convinced you can play the guitar! Lister: I can play the guitar! I'm a diva, man! I can make that lump of wood sing like a... like a Yukon bear trapper on his annual visit to the brothel! Cat: That's as maybe, bud - but the deal stays the same! Lister: I know, I know. If I wanna strum me guitar, I've got to put on a suit and do it in outer space. Peasants! Kryten: I suggest we start debriefing. Mr Rimmer. Rimmer: Thank you, Kryten. Now gentlemen, as we are all aware, we have lost Red Dwarf. This is not the time for small-minded, petty recrimination. The time for that is when we get back to Earth and Lister is court-martialled. Lister: I didn't lose it! Rimmer: Come on, Lister! You're the one who parked it! You're the one who can't remember which planetoid you left it around! Lister: There all the same, those little blue-green planetoids! Blue, green and planetoidy! Kryten: Sir, there is no advantage in finger-pointing. We didn't lose Red Dwarf. Red Dwarf was stolen from us by persons or life-forms unknown. Cat: Who'd steal a gigantic red trashcan with no brakes and three million years on the clock? Kryten: Rogue droids. Genetically engineered life-forms. Figments of Mr Lister's imagination made solid by some weird space @. Who knows? The important thing is that after two hundred years of following their vapour trail, we have them! Lister: What d'ya mean? Kryten: They've been forced to make a massive detour to circumnavigate this asteroid belt. However, Starbug is small enough to negotiate its way straight through the middle. For the first time, for two centuries, we have the opportunity to head them off at the pass, as it were, and recover Holly. Rimmer: Kryten, you're forgetting about Space Core Directive 1-7-4-2. Kryten: 1-7-4-2. No member of the core should ever report for duty in a ginger toupee? [pause] Kryten: Well, thank you for reminding me of that regulation, Sir, but I, I can't see how its pertinent to our present situation. Rimmer: 1-7-4-3 then. Kryten: Oh, I see. No registered vessel should attempt to transverse an asteroid belt without deflectors. Rimmer: YES! God, he's pedantic! Lister: Rimmer, check out the supply situation. Your hologram's on battery back-up, oxygen for three months, water - if we drink re-cyc's - seven weeks, and worst of all we're down to our last two thousand poppadoms! We're in trouble man, big time! Rimmer: You know how unstable those belts are! Rogue asteroids, meteor storms - one direct hit on that plexiglass view-screen and our innards will be turned inside out quicker than a pair of Lister's old underpants! Lister: Cheers man. We're goin' in. Kryten: Recommend the Cat pilots. With his superior reflexes and nasal intuition that will give us our best chance. Rimmer: Oh, for pity's sake! Once breach in that hull and we're people pate! Cat: There's an old cat proverb. It's better to live one hour as a tiger, than a whole lifetime as a worm. [pause] Rimmer: There's an old human proverb. Whoever heard of a wormskin rug? [later] Lister: Yee-es! Nice stick-work, man! Cat: Something's coming. Kryten: Nothing on the navi-com. Cat: I can smell it! Something big! Lister: I'm gettin' nothin' either. Cat: These nostrils never lie! Rimmer: He's right. Co-ordinates 5-3-4-1 by 6-1-6-3. Take a peak, gentlemen. There's a meteor bigger than King Kong's first dump of the day. And it's steaming straight towards us! Kryten: It's far too vast to go around! Rimmer: Reverse thrust! Cat: There's no time! Face it, we're deader than corduroy! Lister: Kryten, you know what to do! Kryten: I'm on my way, Sir! [pause] Rimmer: Could you tell me what he's doing? Lister: He's customised the waste disposal unit. Filled the ejector system with rocket fuel and turned it into a impact garbage-cannon. Rimmer: You're gonna try and shoot that out of the sky with tin cans and banana peel? Lister: There's a little surprise in the middle - a themos of nitro glycerine. Kryten: Waste disposal unit armed and ready, Sir. Rimmer: Kryten, will this work? Kryten: (Lie mode). Of course it'll work, Sir. No worries! [pause] Kryten: Hook, line, sinker, rod and copy of Angling Times, Sir! Cat: Here it comes! Lister: Ready, Kryten. Fire! [pause] Lister: Yee-es! Kryten: Relocating Red Dwarf's vapour trail. At present speed and course, estimated time to interception - twelve hours, seven minutes. Cat: Check out your screens! I'm getting something new - and it does not smell good! Rimmer: There. Got it. Looks like some kind of ship. Lister: Wait a minute. There's another one - and another! Kryten: I'm getting two... ten - no, twelve. Rimmer: All derelict. Lister: It's like this is a giant spaceship graveyard. [pause] Lister: Has anyone else got the feelin' that we've been lead here, like lambs to the kebab shop? Rimmer: We're not moving another inch till we find out what brought those ships down. Kryten: Recommend we stop engines and launch Scouter. Cat: Engines stopped. Scouter launched. [pause] Kryten: We're in. Cat: What's that? Rimmer: Human remains. Wait - angle up five degrees. Across ten degrees. There - some kind of writing on the floor. P-S-I-R-E-N-S. Psirens. Kryten: The poor devil must've scrawled it in his death throws using a combination of his own blood, and even his own intestines. Rimmer: Who would do that? Lister: Someone who badly needed a pen. Cat: What I don't understand is why he went to the trouble of using his kidney as a full stop. Rimmer: I don't think he meant to do that. It probably just... plopped out. Kryten: Whoever he was, clearly he was desperate to warn any other poor wretches who might wander into the same deadly trap. [later] Lister: Scouter's located the black box. OK, replay final entry. Man: "They're closing in. There all over the ship. I know I'm next. It's just a matter of time before... oh, God you're beautiful! I can't resist you! Be strong! I know what you want! No! No you don't! You don't wanna love me! You wanna suck out my brains with a straw like you did the rest of them! Get away from me! Graagh! What've you done you evil harlot? Aargh! You've squeezed all the ketchup outta my burger! Now what? No! Get that straw outta my ear! [pause] Man: Aargh! Lister: OK. Scouter's checked out three of the black boxes on the derelicts. This entire belt is swarming with some kind of genetically engineered life-form who can alter your perception telepathically. They're called "Psirens" - like with Ulysses and that ancient Turkish legend. Kryten: I believe the legend was Greek, Sir. Lister: Whatever. Some country big on curly shoes and humus. My point is, they use this power of illusion to lure you on to the asteroids, an' they strip the ship of whatever they can use... an' then suck out your brains! Rimmer: Well, they shouldn't bother us then - there's barely a snack on board! Kryten: We, we can't turn back now, Sir! We'll lose Red Dwarf! Lister: Look, we'll be through the belt in three, maybe four hours. We've just gotta stay on the case! They'll try an' tempt us, scare us, break our moral... anythin' to force us down on to the rocks. Cat: Incoming message! It's pretty weak! Woman 1: "Please help us. Our settlement is almost extinct. There are only women left." Woman 2: "Barely three thousand of us." Woman 1: "If we are to survive, we need males to spread their seed amongst our number. We beg you - make love to us!" Woman 2: "Make love to all of us!" Cat: You heard 'em! They want seed-spreaders. I'm gonna apply. You guys deal with the Psiren thing, I'll deal with this. [pause] Cat: Er, call me paranoid, but you don't think they were these Psiren dude things, do you? Group: [nodding] Cat: Even the brunette? Group: [nodding] Cat: If anyone wants me I'll be taking a cold shower in liquid oxygen. Rimmer: Well, if that's the most sophisticated enticement these "Psirens" can throw at us, I hardly think we're in danger of being bewitched. Kryten: If I may postulate, Sir, that was merely the level of sophistication required to lure the cat, and it worked. Had we not been here to stop him, he would now be on one of those asteroids crawling around without a brain, trying to write "Oh boy, was I suckered" with his own intestinal tract. Lister: Incomin' message! Here they go again! Woman 3: "This is Captain Tower of the S.A.S. Pioneer. We are under attack. Some form of scavenger... Psirens... they lured us on to this Godforsaken asteroid... killed most of the crew... aargh!" Lister: Is this genuine? Kochanski: "Don't try to help us. We're finished. Save yourselves." Lister: Kochanski! Kochanski: "Dave? Is that you?" Lister: I thought you were dead! Kochanski: "No time to explain. We're over-run. Get out the belt while you can." Lister: It's Kochanski! Kochanksi: "We'll be OK. They'll never take us alive. I've been keeping back three bullets. One for me, one each for the two kids." Lister: KIDS? Kochanski: "Your two sons, Dave." Lister: H-h-h-how? I-I-I don't understand! Kochanski: When you went into stasis, I broke into the sperm bank, back on Red Dwarf. You're a father. Here they come! Jim! Bexley! Come to mommy!" Lister: WAIT! DON'T DO ANYTHIN'! I'M COMIN' IN! KRYTEN - BAZOOKOIDS! RIMMER - PLOT A COURSE! Rimmer: LISTER! Tune in to Sanity FM! Lister: Are you sayin' they were Psirens? Rimmer: Of course! It's as plain as a Bulgarian pin-up! Cat: More trouble - and it's heading straight for us! Lister: What is it? Cat: Er, what do you call one of those giant meteorites that are all covered in flames? Lister: A giant flaming meteorite? Cat: That's it! Kryten: Shall I load the garbage-cannon, Sir? Lister: It wouldn't make a dent! Rimmer: Plot course change! Cat: Engaging reading. Kryten: Wait! There's nothing on the radar! Lister: So? Kryten: I think it's another illusion. Lister: What, Psirens? Kryten: Mmm. Cat, are you getting any scent from that meteorite? Cat: I didn't even know it had a duty-free shop! Kryten: Do you smell anything? Cat: No. Kryten: Suggest we maintain present course. That fireball does not exist. Rimmer: Say you're wrong? Kryten: Sir, I'll stake my reputation on it. Rimmer: Kryten, you haven't got a reputation. Kryten: No, but I'm hoping to acquire one from this escapade! Lister: It's closin' in! To late to run! Kryten: Relax, gentlemen. You're quite safe. [pause] Kryten: Ah! (Smug mode). Well... I can't hang around here saving your necks all day - I guess I'll go and make a start on that ironing! Cat: I'm getting another one! Better get Kryten - he'll know what to do. Rimmer: I'm perfectly capable of dealing with a giant flaming meteorite thank you so very, very much indeedy! We do not need to enlist the help of a domestic droid with a head shaped like a genetically flawed lump-fish! Cat: OK, keep your "H" on! So what do we do? Rimmer: Well, there's nothing on the radar, it's another illusion - we do nothing! Lister: Yo, guys! What's happenin'! Cabin temperatures rising! Rimmer: Psirens again - it's another illusion - it's all in hand. Kryten: What if the fireball is real and this time the radar read-out's the illusion? Rimmer: Gentlemen, relax. We're quite safe. [pause] Rimmer: Any damage? Cat: Not too bad! Couple of the sensors are out, the fuel intake chambers are both flooded, and the left pilot's seat doesn't go up and down anymore! Rimmer: We came through that intact? Kryten: Starbug was built to last, Sir. This ol' baby's crashed more times than a ZX81! Lister: It's what it's made of. Back in the 22nd Century, aerospace engineers discovered that after a plane crash, the only thing that always survives intact... is a cute little doll. So they made Starbug outta the same stuff. Cat: Is that a fact? Lister: Cat, you're so gullible! Cat: Thanks! Rimmer: When can we take off again? Kryten: Oh, just a matter of... oh, wait. The front landing stanchion is embedded in rock up to the joint. We're going to have to get out there and blast it free. Lister: I'll go. Kryten: Sir! The atmosphere is very thin! Besides, this place is likely to be crawling with Psirens! Lister: Kryten, you look after the engine. I'll be out there, been brave, two minutes maximum. [later] Lister: How's that? Cat: Lookin' good! We'll clear the rest on take off. Lister: On my way back. Babe: Hi, Dave! Lister: Smeggin' hell! Pete Trance's sister? Babe: Remember me, Dave? You lusted after me, all through your puberty. And now, at last, I can be yours! Lister: Stay back, Pete Trance's sister - I know what you want! It's pink an' it's moist an' it's in my head, an' that's where it's stayin'! Babe: You know what you want. You want to squeeze my buttocks together, to make one juicy, giant peach. Lister: I, I get it! You're tryin' to make me drown in my own drool! Stay back, Pete Trance's sister! Babe: How long has it been since you made love to a woman? Lister: I admit it's been a while. Babe: It's been over three million years, Dave. Lister: I prefer to count it in ice ages, then it's only four! In @ ice ages hardly even one! Babe: That's a long time, Dave. For a man of your drive. Lister: It's a long time for an Albanian shepherd who's allergic to wool! [pause] Lister: I can't resist you anymore, Pete Trance's sister! Babe: Your death will be exquisite. I'll take you to the peak of ecstacy and then I'll blow your mind. [pause] Kryten: Come on Dave, let's get out of here! [pause] Lister: Dave? [pause] Kryten: "Sir! Is everything OK out there?" Rimmer: What's the delay? Lister: "A couple of Psirens whacked each other out fightin' over me brains! Oh smeg, it's the T.V. weather girl from Channel 27!" Kryten: Don't look, Sir! Lister: "It's not that easy, Kryten! You can't see what she's doin' with her pointy stick!" Cat: I'm starting the engines! Rimmer: GET BACK IN HERE NOW! Lister: "On me way." [pause] Lister 2: It's me. It's gettin' pretty hairy out there, Kryten. Let's vamoose. Lister: "What the hell are ya doin' takin' off when I'm still outside? Let me in!" Kryten: I'm afraid, Sir, you're already here! Lister 2: He's a Psiren, Kryten, don't let him in! Lister: "For God's sake! He's the Psiren! I can't hang on any longer! Let me in!" Rimmer: What are we going to do? Kryten: We, we can't tell which is which - we've got to let him in! Rimmer: Then we'll definately have a Psiren on board! A brain-sucking psychotic temporal lobe slurper! Kryten: There's a fifty percent chance we've already got one on board! We can't risk killing Mr Lister - we've got to let him in! [later] Lister 2: How many times? He's the Psiren and I'm me. Lister: How can you believe this? He doesn't even look like me! He's podgy! He hasn't got my classic profile! Kryten: You're both identical! Listers: No way! Kryten: We're going to try some tests. Rimmer: Right handed - correct! Kryten! [pause] Rimmer: Now then, gentlemen, trim your toe-nails. [pause] Rimmer: Enough! [pause] Rimmer: Play the guitar. Lister 2: What? Here? Inside? Rimmer: Play it! [pause] Lister: How did you know that wasn't me? Cat: 'Cause that dude could play! Lister: That's no different to me! Kryten: That's the way you believe you can play, Sir. That's why, when the Psiren read your mind, he shared your delusion that you are not a ten-thumbed, tone-deaf, talentless noise polluter! Lister: Are you seriously sayin' you think he was better than me? [pause] Lister: See - what's the difference? Cat: A little survival tip, bud. Never play your guitar in front of a man with a loaded gun! Lister: I resent this! I resent you saving my life in this way! Rimmer: Er, where's it gone? Kryten: It's crawled down into the Engine Room! [pause] Rimmer: Meteor storm off the starboard bow - it's a biggy! Kryten: Suggest you two man the cock-pit, Mr Rimmer and I will pursue the Psiren. Rimmer: Errrr, that's quite a good plan, Kryten. Excellent in all but one small detail. I think you know what it is. Bye! [later] Kryten: Please! There is no logic in trying to engage me in combat. I am unseducable in that I have no desires or lusts, and my brain is synthetic, and consequently of no use to you. Give yourself up! [pause] Kryten: Professor Mammet! My creator! Mammet: Hello, Kryten. Kryten: What is the function of this illusion? Mammet: You cannot harm me. It's coded into every cell in your body. You're totally defenseless against me. Kryten: True, however, the others are not so hampered. Mammet: You're also programmed to obey my every command. Drop the radio! [pause] Mammet: Open the waste compactor. Kryten: What are you doing? Mammet: Climb inside. Kryten: No! No! Oogh! This serves no... Mammet: Engage the mechanism. Kryten: Nnnf! Ugh! You - are - sick! Lister: Kryten! Are you there? The meteor storm was another illusion. The Psiren's not as badly injured as we thought! Rimmer: KRYTEN! [pause] Cat: It's got him! Lister: KRYTEN! [pause] Rimmer: My batteries going! I've only got a few seconds left! I need a recharge! Lister: Then there were two. [pause] Lister: Wanna drink? Cat: Buddy, I'm parched. Lister: Wait a minute - what's a vendin' machine doin' in the Engine Room? [pause] Kryten: I'm almost annoyed! [later] Rimmer: That's it. We're clear of the belt. Lister: What about Red Dwarf? Rimmer: Well, according to the navi-com it's gone into that gas nebula. Cat: Then that's where we're heading! Kryten: Tea, Sir? Lister: Cheers, man. Kryten: Suggest you don't put it on the console, Sir. It leaves those ugly ring marks. Use me as a table. Lister: I thought you were goin' to go away an' fix yourself. Kryten: Not before I've finished all my duties, Sir. I can't go galivanting off operating my self-repair unit - not when there's a pile of laundry in the washroom the size of the north face of the Eiger! Besides, the Cat has invited me to join him in the weekly crap game tonight. Cat: (He's gonna be the dice!) Rimmer: Approaching nebula! Lister: Well, let's see what's in there! @3[End of Episode 1]