Red Dwarf (1988–…): Season 7, Episode 8 - Nanarchy - full transcript

(KRYTEN) Last week on Red Dwarf

(SQUEALS) something terrible
happened to Mr Lister's armI

Watch thisI

Hey, guys, check this out!
There's a woman in there!

I've been tongue-hockeyed to death!

You know how you told us
to find a solution, however drastic?

What have you got, Kryts?

My left arm, I said! What kind of navigation
officer can't tell left from right?

- We did our best. I am so sorry.
- Mr Lister, you're awake!

Buddy, you look great!

("RED DWARF" THEME)



(TUNELESS STRUMMING)

Oh, bravo, sir! There's no need for
despondency. You can still play the guitar!

Yeah, look on the bright side.
At least now I'm only half crap.

- We should still count our blessings.
- Kryten's right.

You may have lost a limb,
but countless people have lost an arm

and gone on
to lead a perfectly "normal" life.

- Like who?
- Oh, there are thousands, sir.

- Thousands upon thousands.
- Like?

- More than thousands.
- Who?

- Millions!
- Who?

- Well, I can't name them all individually.
- Name one.

One? Hmm... As many as that?

- Lord Nelson. He beat the French.
- Thank you, ma'am.

- He beat the French.
- Who else?



- Well, er...
- The Venus de Milo.

The Venus de Milo.
No arms at all, but that didn't prevent her

from pursuing a successful modelling career.

- Go on.
- Go on?

You said there were millions.
That's two, and one's a statue. Name five.

Five? Right. Well, there's, um...

There's Lord Nelson, and, er... Ms de Milo,

and then there's the... well...

- Help us! Er, the...
- The painter dude!

- What painter dude?
- The Welsh guy. You know?

The one with one arm. Van Gogogogh.

He had one ear. He cut the other one off.

- He did?
- Yes.

See? He manages to cut off his own ear
with one arm, and you're worried.

There must be more... That guy
from "The Fugitive". What was his name?

- The One-Armed Man.
- That's him! That's three.

He was a murderer.
He killed Richard Kimble's wife.

But that proves my point. If that guy
can murder an able-bodied woman

minus a major extremity,
then you've got nothing to worry about.

Let's face it, guys. There aren't
any noteworthy one-armed people.

- You can't even name five.
- Of course we can!

Horatio Nelson,
the one-armed guy from "The Fugitive",

the Venus de Milo,
Van Gogh and... one more...

That Mexican dude!

- The one who robbed people!
- What one?

The one-armed bandit!

That's a machine, you gimp! One of the most
popular pub games of the 20th century.

And it only had one arm?
What a heart-warming story.

- Dave Lister. There. That's five.
- I'm going to the loo.

I don't need to, but as it takes 45 minutes
to undo my flies, I should make a start.

Do you need a hand?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean...
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry! Sorry!

Sorry...

- Biscuit, sir?
- Please.

- Another bik-bik?
- Yes, please.

- Kryten? What are you doing?
- I'm just dunking bikkies, ma'am.

It's another of life's joys of which
Mr Lister has been robbed. Right, sir?

Could you tweak my nose? I've got an itch.

Itch it yourself. You've still got one arm.

- There. Is that better, sir?
- Yeah, a bit.

Kryten, I told you -
he wants to be independent.

He doesn't need you
treating him like an invalid.

- But he does, he does! Don't you, sir?
- (SIGHS)

- Another slurp, sir?
- This is making me sick.

Take no notice of her, sir.
It's nearly suppertime.

Chuckie-eggs tonight, sir,
with your toast cut up

into little, tiny, weeny,
bite-sized soldiers of varying ranks.

- I can cut up my own toast.
- Just like you asked for.

- Asked for?
- Now, just remember, sir, Kryten knows best!

I'm gonna stretch me legs,
take a walk around the ship.

Just opening the door, sir.
There we go. Door's open, sir.

- Cheers.
- Just closing the door now, sir.

The door's closing, sir.
The door's nearly closed. It's closed, sir.

Florence Nightingdroid, could I have a word?

Certainly, ma'am.

Look, deep down I'm a big softie.

When I saw "Gone With The Wind",
I went through a box of tissues.

"'Now, Voyager",
I couldn't speak for 20 minutes.

I'll make a note, ma'am. "Now Voyager".

Worth keeping on stand-by. Carry on, ma'am!

I'm saying I'm not a heartless bitch,

so understand
that what I'm about to say isn't easy.

Back off Lister.
Let him learn to cope on his own.

- I don't understand, ma'am.
- By helping him, you're not helping him.

Without me,
he wouldn't be wearing underpants!

Have you ever heard
of something called "tough love"?

- Does it involve dressing up?
- No.

Sometimes, to help a person,
you have to get tough,

make them stand on their own two feet -
or in Lister's case, one hand!

I see. So you think
he should brush his own teeth.

I do. It's time
you built him an artificial arm

so he's not so dependant on you.

I was getting around to that, but being
on 24-hour wipe alert, I haven't had time!

Wipe alert? No,
don't even tell me what that means.

I think I know, and it's the grossest thing!

I help him get rid
of the crumbs around his mouth.

Yeah, that's what I thought,
and it's absolutely gross.

Mouth crumbs. Eurgh! Disgusting!

It's a real sonofabitch about your arm, bud.
Losing an arm, that is one terrible thing.

- Your move.
- Can you imagine that?

One minute, you got two arms,
and the next - zing... doof! - You got one.

Hoo-ee! That's tough.

Your move.

And we must need two arms.
That's why we got two arms.

Well, except you.

Your move.

You're probably wondering,
"Is it going to affect my life?"

I think the answer is, "Yes, it is."

Your smegging move.

If it were me, I couldn't survive.

I'd climb to the top of my tallest
platform boots and leap to my death.

- I couldn't stand not being perfect.
- Your move.

But with you I think it's different.
Take a pit bull, a real ugly sonofabitch.

It loses its leg somehow and says to you,
"Hey, man! I've only got three legs.

"Will lady pit bulls still like me?"

You've gotta stop from laughing, haven't you?

He's ugly with four legs! He's ugly with three!

Hell, he'd be ugly in a suit with a carnation.

So here's something
that's gonna cheer you up!

It's your move.

- Mr Pit Bull? Put it there, buddy!
- MOVE!

OK, OK. I'm going!

I don't think
you've been listening to a thing I've said.

Now, this is the standard model
from the 21st century. Comfortable, sir?

- It's fine, yeah.
- OK, now let's recap -

the limb is connected to neurons
on the left hemisphere of your brain,

which controls the right side of your body.

You merely command the arm
to do something, and it obeys.

Now, let's practise.

Right, concentrate, sir.
I want you to think, "Arm, pick up the ball."

OK? Now just think, "I will pick up the ball."

- I will pick up the ball.
- Good. Concentrate.

- I will pick up the ball.
- OK, now really think,

- "Hand..."
- I will pick up the ball.

- That's right.
- Hand, pick up the ball.

- "Hand, pick up the ball!"
- Hand, pick up the ball!

- Keep going.
- Pick up the ball!

- Now focus onto that.
- Pick up the ball!

"Hand, pick up the ball!"
That's right, sir. Really think, now.

"Hand, pick up the ball!"
Really get it going, sir!

"Pick up the ball! Hand, pick up the ball!"

Really start to move it now, sir!
"Hand, pick up the ball!"

Keep going, sir! You CAN do it!
"Hand, pick up the ball!"

You're going to move it! Move that hand, sir!

Pick up the ball!
Yes, sir! We've got some movement, sir!

Yes! The finger is moving! Yes!

Oh! Bravo, sir!

- Oh! The sweat's dripping off me!
- Oh, that was fantastic, sir!

- It worked like a dream!
- Is that it?

- Sir?
- Is that the best it works?

To pick up a ball, I need the morning off.

It was a tad slow, I'm forced to admit.

The only thing that picks up slower
is Rimmer in a disco.

Maybe if I adjust the impulse valve,
it might make it a little more sensitive.

OK, let's try again.
"Hand, pick up the ball."

OK. Hand, pick up the ball.

(CLUNK)

OK. Right. Well, er, let's try again.

- OK?
- Now, "Hand, pick up the ball."

Hand, pick up the ball.

I think, sir, the anger inside you
is driving the arm.

- I don't feel angry.
- You've lost your arm, sir.

- You've every right to feel angry.
- I don't!

You see, it's subconscious.
You're thinking, "Hand, pick up the ball,"

but your subconscious
is saying, "Punch Kryten in the head.

"Beat the brains out
of the demented droid that cut off my arm."

- Kryten, that's rubbish!
- (CLANG)

You're right!
It's controlled by my subconscious!

It's too dangerous to keep that arm, sir.

Two minutes with Miss Kochanski and who knows
what you'd be swinging around your head?

There must be a solution to this.

Hey, half-eaten-lollipop-head,
what about one of your spares?

- Whaddaya say, motherboarder?
- Too heavy, sir.

The extra weight would
prevent Mr Lister getting it up.

He could take it off if he was going on a date.

Someone do something to him,

ideally involving ice cubes
and any puckered body cavity.

Wait a minute.
Can't your self-repair system help?

- Ma'am?
- When you have a mechanical failure,

it fixes itself, doesn't it?

The Kryten back in my dimension
had these tiny little robots. Subatomic?

Nanobots. They break objects down
into their component atoms,

then recombine those atoms
to repair damaged circuits.

- Nanotechnology.
- Just run that by me one more time,

but do the big-writing version
with pictures, one word a page?

Let me think of a cogent paradigm.

I'd rather have a good example.

This is a lead pencil. It's made of graphite,

a particular arrangement of carbon atoms.

This is diamond.
It too is made of carbon atoms.

Nanobots can rearrange atoms
so they could take this lead pencil,

move the atoms around a bit
and turn it into diamond.

It's possible to make diamonds out of pencils?

It's possible
to make computer chips out of sand.

So what if we transferred
some of your nanobots into Dave?

Could they build him a new arm
from excess body tissue?

Unfortunately, ma'am, it's not possible, no.

- Why not?
- I have no nanobots. They deserted me.

- When and where, I can't be certain.
- But if we find them, could they do it?

But finding them would be like looking
for a needle in a male student's flat.

- When was the last repair they made?
- On the Esperanto, before the Despair Squid.

(TUTS) That was before we lost the Dwarf.

- That's why I've given up hope.
- Set a course for the Esperanto.

But I promise you it's futile, sir.

I'll start preparing
the suspended animation booths.

Hang on a minute. Where the smeg are we?

The computer woke us early.
It must have something.

Maybe it's something to do
with this planetoid?

Just scanning, sir... No, that's ridiculous.

- What is?
- It's not even worth mentioning, ma'am.

Must be a scanner fault. Rescanning.

- What? Again?
- What is it, man?

You look shakier than a silicon implant ward
during an earthquake.

Well, according to all our scanners,
that planetoid out there is... Red Dwarf.

- Gah! Must be on the blink.
- Of course it is.

This is a piece of equipment that detected
a planet entirely populated by air hostesses.

We spent two weeks checking that out.

I knew we gave up to soon!
It was worth at least one more week.

- However, there is one additional factor.
- Which is?

- That we've been here before.
- It's the cockpit, dummy!

We come here all the time.

Doesn't this sector
of the galaxy look familiar?

Kryten, it's space. Black with twinkly bits.
It all looks familiar.

On the port side, sir, is the ocean world
where we discovered the Esperanto.

That was just before we lost Red Dwarf.

- Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
- I'm thinking leather underpants

with silver studs are a mistake
if you wear them inside out.

- What are you thinking?
- About a mallet, you and ice cubes again.

- This planetoid, let's check it out.
- The weather scan says it's beautiful.

Tropical temperatures, not a cloud in sight.
Suggest we dress for snow and take the buggy.

(THUNDER CRASHES, WIND HOWLS)

Take some readings
and grab some soil samples.

- Looks kinda blowy.
- It's an electric storm.

There must be more electricity than
the surge that went through the National Grid

during the commercial break in the Olympic
all-girl custard wrestling finals.

(WIND HOWLS WILDLY)

Phew!

I can't believe you're here.
How did you persuade Kryten to let you out?

He's not my mum, Kris. I hope the Cat's not
too long, I promised we'd be back by tea.

Joke.

It's impossible out there!

- Do you need some different goggles?
- No, I need a comb!

- Sweet?
- Thanks.

- Here, have another one.
- I can do it.

- Don't be silly. Let me.
- I can do it, really. I'm not an idiot.

(GAGS AND SPLUTTERS)

(WIND HOWLS)

Can I ask you a question?
Now that I've got no arm, does it...

does it make any difference to anything?

I mean,
if you were a female pit bull terrier,

how would you feel about a three-legged...?

Does it make any difference to - plucking
any old relationship out of the air - us?

Dave, before you lost your arm,
I thought you were a no-good, disgusting bum.

- And I still do. So no, none at all.
- Will this make any difference to women?

Losing an arm isn't going to make any
difference to any woman who cares about you.

- Really?
- Really.

- What about sex?
- Not here. It's too sandy.

- How did you get on?
- Take a look.

This sand didn't start out as sand atoms.
They've been engineered nanobotically.

- From what?
- Computer chips, you name it.

According to the particle analyser,
this planetoid is Red Dwarf.

- Where are you going?
- I'll need some help!

There's a lot of stuff out there
worth checking out!

What stuff?

Hey, it feels like the storm's easing off!

Come and see for yourself!

Oh, I was beginning to worry!
Oh! What on earth is this?

The whole damn planetoid's packed
with stuff from Red Dwarf.

Supplies, bunks,
drinks dispensers, you name it.

- It's like a giant car boot sale!
- We got some valuable stuff!

What? Napkin rings?
A box of hairnet requisition forms?

A motorised tie rack and an inflatable shark?

- What a haul (!)
- There must be some useful stuff.

I couldn't see what I was getting.

All right, dudes?

- What the smeg are you doing here, Hol?
- Those little wotsits.

- Nanobots?
- They remolicurised...

They remolic... They remol...

Anyway, they did that word
that I can't say to the whole ship

and left the bits they didn't wantI

What? They fixed your core program,
then decided to leave you?

Yeah, it was shortly after they'd met me.

Well, from one machine to another,
welcome back online, Holly!

What's happened to him?
That's quite horrific, isn't it?

Cheap razor? It's just not worth
buying them from garages, is it?

- Don't you remember me? I'm Kryten.
- Kryten?

I'm sorry, mate.

It's the way the light was shining on your -
what's the word? - "face" I suppose.

I just didn't recognise you for a minute.
Never forget a face, usually. Never.

- It's good to see you again.
- And you are?

Unbelievable. Dumped on a planet
in the middle of an electro-storm

and left to rot for hundreds of years,
and the guy's lost nothing.

So, while we were on the Esperanto, your
nanobots mutinied and took over Red Dwarf?

They wanted a ship. My body had nothing new,
but Red Dwarf itself was far too big.

But they're nanobots. They can change
anything into anything else.

Yeah, they can turn a Pot Noodle into food.

So they took Red Dwarf,
made a subatomic version,

and turned the rest
of the atoms into a planetoid?

What were we chasing?
What was producing that vapour trail?

- Red Dwarf.
- Did someone turn over two pages at once?

We were chasing the nano-Red Dwarf.
That's why the readings were so minute.

So now they could be anywhere?
You pursued them across half the galaxy.

Until we lost track of the readings -
a scanner malfunction.

Or they went out of reach of your scanners.

But we were gaining on them, bud.

Scanners scan on the outside.
To escape, they just had to stop.

You mean, the nanos could be in here,
on board Starbug somewhere?

Hey, he could be right.

He's back. Kicking bottom or what?

Recalibrating scanner, sir.
Performing internal sweep.

- What are you getting?
- Nothing yet.

Just two pieces of Bombay aloo you dropped
several millennia ago down the ducts,

where they appear to evolved a rudimentary
intelligence and formed a folk duo.

- Damn scanner.
- Keep looking.

Narrowing parameters. Oh.

Oh, my. You were right, sir.
I think we've found them.

Where?

They're there, OK.

So Red Dwarf spent the last two years
exploring my laundry basket?

The ship is now so small that to the nanos

a hole in an athletic support
is the size of a galaxy!

Hey, I like the sound of that - Dave Lister,
the man with the galaxy-sized jockstrap.

Little scampsI
It's the oldest trick in the book.

Capture your ship, turn it into a planet,

then explore a macro-universe
in a laundry basket.

How could you fall for an old scam like that?

Ma'am, tell me if the readings change.

(FAINT BLEEPING)

Same.

Still the same.

- Still the same!
- They've changed!

Ha! Nailed the little blighters! After
all the embarrassment they've caused me!

Kris, find a frequency to establish contact.

Leave it to me, sir. I'll make contact.

Can you hear me, you little critters?

We want our ship back and a new arm
for Mr Lister! Are you receiving me?

- (BLEEPING)
- Ah, we have contact.

They're communicating in machine code.
Leave the talking to me.

Have you any idea what you've done,
deserting your droid?

You've broken every reg in the manual!

And to compound matters
by stealing our ship, it's unbelievably...

Er... It's unbelievably... naughty.

Now, listen up. Here's the deal.

We want that planetoid
turned back into Red Dwarf

and we want you
to build a new arm for Mr Lister.

- (HIGH-PITCHED WHINE)
- If you don't, you'll get more of this.

(ELECTRONIC SQUEALING)

So they'll manufacture
a new arm from existing tissue?

I've got them so worked up,
they'll do anything I say.

- Where are they?
- Here.

On the tip of my finger, sir.
Millions and millions of them.

Now I just insert them into your body.

What with?

- Hypodermic, sir.
- Thank God for that.

I can't bear to look.
Has it worked? Someone tell me!

Let's all turn around after three.

(CAT) One, two, three!

- Did it work?
- It's been a 100 per cent success, sir.

In fact, it's been a 500 per cent success!

In fact, they've... Well, if that's all, sir,

I think I'll retire for the evening.
Goodnight!

Release me, Kris. I've gotta see it.

They probably didn't mean any harm.

I think they were trying to make up
for before. They can have another go, OK?

Aaaaaaaaarrrrrgh!

(CAT) HeyI Nice rebuildI
Those nano-dudes have done a real neat job.

Hey, it seems even bigger than I remember.

Er, guys,

we've got a problemI

# It's cold outside,
there's no kind of atmosphere

# I'm all alone, more or less

# Let me fly far away from here

# Fun, fun, fun

# In the sun, sun, sun

# I want to lie, shipwrecked and comatose

# Drinking fresh mango juice

# Goldfish shoals, nibbling at my toes

# Fun, fun, fun

# In the sun, sun, sun

# Fun, fun, fun

# In the sun, sun, sun #