THE OFFICAL UNOFFICAL RED DWARF QUOTES FILE

Newsgroups: alt.tv.red-dwarf
Subject: RD Quotes File
From: robinson_m@kosmos.wcc.govt.nz
Date: 20 Jan 1993 10:26:25 GMT
Organization: Wellington City Council (Public Access), Wgtn, Nz

===============================================================================
               THE OFFICAL UNOFFICAL RED DWARF QUOTES FILE v0.9
-compiled from submissions from alt.tv.red-dwarf readers, and mine own efforts.
-comments, quotes, etc (no flames please) to ROBINSON_M@kosmos.wcc.govt.nz
===============================================================================

#NEEDS_CORRECTION
>From `Waiting For God':
Holly (qouting Capt. H.): "There's a saying amongst the officers; If
a job's worth doing, it's worth doing well. If it's not worth doing,
give it to Rimmer!"
#1_1
>From `The End':
Holly: Well, she [Kochanski] won't be much use to you on Fiji now -- not
       unless it snows and you need something to grit the path with.
#1_1
>From `The End':
Lister: You see, I try and respect Rimmer, sir.  I'm not an insubordinate man
        by nature.  I try and respect him and everything, but it's not easy
        because he's such a smeghead.
Rimmer: Did you hear that, sir?  Lister, do you have any conception of the
        penalty for describing a superior technician as a smeghead?
Todhunter: Oh, Rimmer, you are a smeghead.
#1_1
>From `The End':
Lister: You didn't have the right parents?  Whose parents did you have?
#1_1
>From `The End':
Petersen: Have you seen Rimmer's arm?
Chen:     No, I'm waiting for it to come out in paperback!
#1_2
>From `Future Echoes':
Holly: I am Holly, the ship's computer, with an I.Q. of 6000 -- the same
       I.Q. of 6000 P.E. teachers.
#1_2
>From `Future Echoes':
Rimmer: If you had two people coming for a job, and one of them was dead,
        which one would you pick?
#1_2
>From `Future Echoes':
Rimmer: It will be happened; it shall be going to be happening; it will be
        was an event that could will have been taken place in the future.
#1_3
>From `Balance of Power':
Cat: Fish!
Food machine: Today's fish is trout a la creme. Enjoy your meal!
Cat: Fish!
Food machine: Today's fish is trout a la creme. Enjoy your meal!
Cat: Fish!
Food machine: Today's fish is trout a la creme. Enjoy your meal!
Cat: Fish!
Food machine: Today's fish is trout a la creme. Enjoy your meal!
Cat: Fish!
Food machine: Today's fish is trout a la creme. Enjoy your meal!
Cat: Fish!
Food machine: Today's fish is trout a la creme. Enjoy your meal!
Cat: I will!
#1_5
>From `Confidence and Paranoia':
Holly: Emergency. Emergency. There's an emergency going on. It's still going
       on. It's still an emergency. This is an emergency announcement.
#1_5
>From `Confidence and Paranoia':
Confidence: I killed him, cha cha cha.
Lister:     What do you mean you killed him cha cha cha?
#1_5
>From `Confidence and Paranoia':
Confidence: Oxygen's for losers!
#1_5
>From `Confidence and Paranoia':
Cat: This is mine; that's mine [etc.]; 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 good day!  I've eaten five times, I've
     slept six times, and I'd made a lot of things mine!  Tomorrow I'm going
     to see if I can't have sex with something!
#1_5
>From `Confidence and Paranoia':
Lister: Love is what separates us from animals
Rimmer: No, Lister -- what separates us from animals is that we don't use our
        tongues to clean our own genitals.
#1_6
>From `Me^2':
Lister: Ah, the Pop-Up Karma Sutra, Zero-Gravity Edition!  That's mine.
#1_6
>From `Me^2':
Holly:  Busy, Dave?
Lister: Well, yeah.  I am, actually.
Holly:  Oh, then you won't want to know about the two super-lightspeed
        fighters that are tracking us.
Lister: What?!
Holly:  I'll leave you to your bubble blowing, mate.
Lister: No, Hol, come on, come on.
Holly:  They're from Earth.
Lister: Three million years away?
Holly:  They're from the NorWEB federation.
Lister: What's that?
Holly:  The North Western Electricity Board.  They want you, Dave.
Lister: Me?  Why?  What for?
Holly:  For your crimes against humanity.
Lister: You what!
Holly:  It seems when you left Earth three million years ago, you
        left two half-eaten German sausages on a plate in your
        kitchen.
Lister: Did I?
Holly:  You know what happens to sausages left unattended for
        three million years?
Lister: Yeah.  They go all mouldy.
Holly:  Your sausages, Dave, now cover seven-eighths of the Earth's
        surface.  Also you left seventeen pounds, fifty pence in a
        bank account.  Thanks to compound interest you now own
        ninety-eight percent of all the world's wealth, but since
        you've hoarded it for three million years nobody's got any
        money except for you and NorWEB.
Lister: Why NorWEB?
Holly:  You left a light on in the bathroom.  I've got a final demand
        here for one hundred and eighty billion pounds.
Lister: A hundred and eighty billion pounds!  You're kidding!
Holly:  (wearing Groucho Marx disguise) April fool.
Lister: But it's not April.
Holly:  Yeah, I know, but I could hardly wait six months with a red-hot
        jape like that under my belt.
#1_6
>From `Me^2':
(exiting a closet)
Cat: He won't find that one -- not until he changes his boots. (sees Lister,
     hides his face) "Did you see him clearly? Did you get a good look at his
     face? Could you spot him in a parade?"  I don't think so -- that could
     have been anybody!
#2_1
>From `Kryten':
(returns from getting tea, is told that the crew is dead)
Kryten: My god!  But I was only away two minutes!
#2_1
>From `Kryten':
Lister: No way are these my boxer shorts -- these bend!
#2_1
>From `Kryten':
Holly:  Nothing wrong with dog's milk: full of goodness; full of vitamins;
        full of marrow-bone jelly!  Lasts longer than any other type of
        milk, dog's milk.
Lister: Why's that?
Holly:  No bugger will drink it!
#2_1
>From `Kryten':
Lister: `Mr Arnold' isn't even his name.  His name's `Rimmer'; or `Smeghead';
        or `Dinosaur breath'; or `Molecule Mind'.  And if you want to be
        really mega-polite to him, Kryten -- we're talking mega-mega-polite --
        on those rare and exceptional circumstances, you can call him
        `Arsehole'.
#2_1
>From `Kryten':
Rimmer: You? How did you get into art college?
Lister: The normal way you get into art college, the same old usual boring
        normal way you get in: I failed my exams and applied -- they snapped
        me up!
#2_2
>From `Better Than Life':
Cat: I'm going to eat you little fishie; I'm going to eat you little fishie;
     I'm going to eat you little fishie; 'cause I like eating fish!
#2_2
>From `Better Than Life':
Rimmer: The lamb was a bit of a flop, though.
Lister: The lamb? Everyone thought the lamb was the cheese! And that lemon
        meringue pie, man -- what was in that?
Rimmer: I thought you liked that -- you brought some back.
Lister: Yeah, I wanted to try some on my athlete's foot!
#2_2
>From `Better Than Life':
Lister: Rimmer, real dumplings, proper dumplings, when they're properly
        cooked to perfection, proper dumplings should not bounce!
#2_2
>From `Better Than Life':
Cat:    My stomach has been pumped and now I'm hungry! Man, I just
        /have/ to eat!
Lister: Rimmer's dad has died.
Cat:    Well, I'd prefer chicken.
#2_2
>From `Better Than Life':
Rimmer's Father:        I just wanted to tell you...
Rimmer:                 Yes?
Rimmer's Father:        I just wanted to say...
Rimmer:                 Yes?
Rimmer's Father:        I just wanted to say...you're a total smeghead!
Rimmer:                 What?!  This isn't my fantasy!
Cat:                    No -- it's mine.
#2_3
>From `Thanks for the Memory':
Rimmer: How about: breaking your leg hurts like hell, right?  `Hel'.  They
        do it beLOW the knee -- lo -- `Hello'; get it?  They do it twice --
        two -- `Hello to', and the jigsaw must mean `you': `Hello to you'!
Cat:    I wouldn't like to be around when one of these suckers is making a
        speech!
#2_3
>From `Thanks for the Memory':
Holly: Ahead groove factor 5! Yeah!
#2_4
>From `Stasis Leak':
Holly: It's better to have loved and to have lost than to listen to an album
       by Olivia Newton-John.
Cat:   Why's that?
Holly: Anything's better than listening to an album by Olivia Newton-John.
#2_4
>From `Stasis Leak':
Cat:            What is it?
Rimmer:         It's a rent in the space-time continuum.
Cat:            What is it?
Lister:         The stasis room freezes time, you know, makes time stand
                still.  So whenever you have a leak, it must preserve
                whatever it's leaked into, and it's leaked into this room.
Cat:            What is it?
Rimmer:         It's singularity, a point in the universe where the normal
                laws of space and time don't apply.
Cat:            What is it?
Lister:         It's a hole back into the past.
Cat:            Oh, a magic door!  Well, why didn't you say?
#2_4
>From `Stasis Leak':
Holly: I was in love once -- a Sinclair ZX-81.  People said, "No, Holly,
       she's not for you."  She was cheap, she was stupid and she wouldn't
       load -- well, not for me, anyway.
#2_5
>From `Queeg':
Rimmer: You're about as much use as a condom machine in the Vatican.
#2_5
>From `Queeg':
Lister: Shouldn't this cable go somewhere?
Holly:  Yes, connect it to the blue cable.
--- Lister electrocuted ---
Holly:  ...or was that the yellow cable? Yes, it should have been the
        yellow cable.
#2_5
>From `Queeg':
Lister: I had this Geography teacher, Miss Foster. She took us on a school
        summer camp trip to the Ganwee.  I had the tent next to hers, right.
        And in the middle of the night I was woken up by this really weird
        noise.  /She/ didn't think men were better than machines.
#2_5
>From `Queeg':
Cat:    Look at my hands! I had lovely hands!
Lister: Well, wear the smegging gloves!
Cat:    Marigold with blue? Are you crazy?
#2_5
>From `Queeg':
Lister: Look at what he's given me for dinner: a pea on toast.  One pea.
        I tell you, I'm that far from cracking.  (goes to squish the pea;
        it snaps away) I've lost my pea! Oh, that's it! I've cracked.
Rimmer: He's just doing this to destroy your morale.
Lister: Is he?  Well, I want my pea back. It's my pea. I earned that pea.
        Where is it?  I don't care if it's on the floor all covered in fluff,
        if it's under the bed with my toenail clippings, I don't care where
        it is -- it's my pea, I earned it, and I'm going to eat it no matter
        what!
Rimmer: It flew off into your dirty-sock basket.
Lister: I'll just have the toast.
#2_5
>From `Queeg':
Cat:   If it's any help, I've been studying his tactics and there's a pattern
       emerging: Every time you make a move, he makes one too (winks to
       Holly).
Holly: (winks back) Thanks, Cat.
#2_5
>From `Queeg':
Holly:  We are talking Jape of the Decade. We are talking April, May, June,
        July, and August, fool.  Yes, that's right -- I am Queeg.
Rimmer, Lister, Cat:    WHAT?!!!!!!
#2_6
>From `Parallel Universe':
Lister: Come on, what are you: a man or a munchkin?
Rimmer: I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz.
#2_6
>From `Parallel Universe':
Dog:  I tell you what: I'm gonna smell your behind, then you can smell mine!
      Now is that a deal?
Cat:  You want to smell my WHAT?
#2_6
>From `Parallel Universe':
Lister: That's rich, you know, coming from Miss Yo-Yo Knickers.
#3_1
>From `Backwards':
"You are a stupid, square-headed, bald git, aren't you, eh?  [there is a cut
 here]  I'm pointing at you, yes, I'm pointing at you, but I'm not actually
 addressing you; I'm addressing the one prat in the country who thought he
 could get hold of this recording, turn it round, and actually work out the
 rubbish that I'm saying.  What a poor, sad life he's got!  [there is a cut
 here]  Frankly, your act's crap, anyway -- anybody could have had it.  I hate
 the lot of you!  Bollocks to you!"
{NB: Said by the club manager, backwards -- don't look for it}
#3_1
>From `Backwards':
[Lister and Cat rapping]
"We didn't come here looking for trouble
 We just came to do the Red Dwarf Shuffle
 He's smart..."
#3_1
>From `Backwards':
Cat:    Is that what I think it is?
Lister: What d'you think it is?
Cat:    An orange whirly thing in space!
#3_2
>From `Marooned':
Rimmer: But that was a barroom brawl, that was a common pub fight,
        a shambolic drunken set-to.
Lister: ...which you started.
Rimmer: I just made an innocuous comment.  I merely voiced the rumour that
        McWilliams was sexually tilted in favour of sleeping with the dead.
        I didn't start the rumour; I merely voiced it.
Lister: ...to his face -- right to his face...when he was with his four
        biggest mates.  And then you do your roadrunner act and leave /me/
        to face the music.
Rimmer: Well, I could have got hurt!
Lister: You'd have made a brilliant general, wouldn't you?
#3_3
>From `Polymorph':
Rimmer: What about the Rimmer Directive, which states, "Never tangle with
        anything that's got with more teeth than the entire Osmond family"?
#3_3
>From `Polymorph':
Genny:  You know, you're probably the best-looking guy I've ever seen.
Cat:    Well, I wasn't going to be the first to say it.
Genny:  Do you know what I'd really like?
Cat:    Hmm?
Genny:  I'd really like to make love to a guy like you.
Cat:    Well, I'm sure I have a window in my schedule somewhere.  Let's see,
er, what are you doing in, say, ten seconds time?
Genny:  Nothing I couldn't cancel. (licks teeth)
Cat:    Hi, I'm the Cat.
Genny:  Hi, I'm the Genetic Mutant.
Cat:    Glad to know you ... Genny who?
#3_3
>From `Polymorph':
Lister: Lemon juice? (holds up canister)
Cat:    What the hell is that?
Lister: It's a syringe.
Cat:    What kind of syringe?
Lister: It's for cows -- artificial insemination.
#3_3
>From `Polymorph':
Cat: This isn't a meal -- this is an autopsy!
#3_5
>From `Timeslides':
Kryten: We could go to Dallas in November, 1963, stand on the grassy knoll
        and shout "Duck!" ... I'm sorry; I must have bypassed my Good Taste
        Chip.
#3_5
>From `Timeslides':
Lister: The wacked-out crazy hippy drummer is called Dobbin.  He joined the
        police force in the end -- became a Grand Wizard in the Freemasons.
        The bass is called Gazza.  He was a neo-marxist nihilistic anarchist.
        Eventually he joined a large insurance company and got his own parking
        space.
#3_5
>From `Timeslides':
Cat: Look at that collar! You could go hang gliding!
#3_5
>From `Timeslides':
Kryten:  Pub: ah, yes, a meeting place where people attempt to reach
         advanced states of mental incompetence by the repeated consumption
         of fermented vegetable drinks.
#3_5
>From `Timeslides':
Holly:  Ah, got him: `Tension Sheet, inventor of, Dave Lister, aged 17.'
Rimmer: Damn!
Holly:  And he died tragically in a plane crash, aged 98.
Rimmer: 98!
Holly:  His own fault, apparently -- he was making love to his 14th wife and
        lost control of the plane.
Rimmer: Have you got any photographs?
Holly:  Not of that, no!
#3_5
>From `Timeslides':
Blaize: Hello, and welcome to `The Lifestyles of the Disgustingly Rich and
        Famous.'  Tonight we will be looking at the world's youngest
        billionare, Mr. Dave `Tension Sheet' Lister.  Behind me, Mr. Lister's
        English mansion; he had the whole building transported brick by brick
        from half a mile down the road just to get away from the neighbours.
        Now that's the kind of cash that opens anybody's legs!  The gravel in
        his drive came from Buckingham Palace.  Dave bought Buck Palace and
        had it ground down just to line his drive.  This man has a wad so
        thick you could use it to beat whales to death.  He calls his home
        `Xanadu' not in reference to the famous movie `Citizen Kane', but as
        a tribute to the hit single by Dave, Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick, and Tish.
        But Dave has musical aspirations of his own. Only last year his first
        single, `Om', shot to No. 1 when he personally purchased three million
        copies.  You'll never be short of an ashtray in his house.  Like many
        people who appear to have everything, Dave's life has been tinged with
        tragedy.  Well, actually it hasn't, but we can only hope.
#3_5
>From `Timeslides':
Rimmer: Kryten, unpack Rachel and get out the puncture repair kit.  I'm
ALIVE!!!!! (smashes his hands on crates of explosives and is blown to bits)
#3_6
>From `The Last Day':
Rimmer: Kryten, isn't it about this time your head goes back to the lab for
        re-tuning?
#3_6
>From `The Last Day':
Kryten: Damage control report: Dehydration level 45%; Recall of previous
        evening 2%; Embarrassment factor 91%!  Advise repair schedule:
        Reboot startup disk, offline for 36 hours and replace head.
        Boy! What a night!
#3_6
>From `The Last Day':
Lister: We're on a mining ship, three million years into deep space.  Can
        someone explain to me where the smeg I got this traffic cone?
Cat:    Hey, it's not a good night unless you get a traffic cone!  It's the
        policewoman's helmet and the suspenders I don't understand!
#3_6
>From `The Last Day':
Kryten: No Silicon Heaven? Preposterous!  Where would all the calculators go?
#4_1
>From `Camille':
Kryten: It's a small, off-duty Czechoslovakian traffic warden!
#4_1
>From `Camille':
Kryten: Camille looks like your sister-in-law?  What happened?  Was she
        involved in some kind of horrific car accident?
Rimmer: Who? Janine?  No, of course not -- she was a model!
Kryten: And she looked like Camille?
Rimmer: Absolutely!  The resemblance is uncanny!
Kryten: What did she model? Spark plugs?
#4_1
>From `Camille':
Kryten: You'll like them ... well, some of them ... well, one of them ...
        maybe.
#4_1
>From `Camille':
Kryten: Spin my nipple-nuts and send me to Alaska!
#4_1
>From `Camille':
Kryten: Smmeeeeeeggggggg heeeeaaaaaadddddd!
#4_1
>From `Camille':
Rimmer: He's got mad droid disease. He kept waving a banana in front of me
        and calling it a female aardvark.
#4_1
>From `Camille':
Kryten: The way the light catches the angles of your head -- most enchanting.
#4_1
>From `Camille':
Kryten: It's the old, old story:
           Droid meets Droid,
           Droid becomes Chameleon,
           Droid loses Chameleon,
           Chameleon turns into Blob,
           Droid gets Blob back again,
           Blob meets Blob,
           Blob goes off with Blob,
           and Droid loses Blob, Chameleon, and Droid.
        How many times have we seen that story?
#4_2
>From `D.N.A.':
Lister: Any problems?
Kryten: Well, just one or two.  In fact I've compiled a little list if
        you'll indulge me.  Now then, uh, my optical system doesn't
        appear to have a zoom function.
Lister: No, human eyes don't have a zoom.
Kryten: Well then, how do you bring a small object into sharp focus?
Lister: Well, you just move your head closer to the object.
Kryten: I see.  Move your head ... closer, hmm, to the object.  All
        right, okay.  Well, what about other optical effects, like split
        screen, slow motion, Quantel[tm]?
Lister: No.  We don't have them.
Kryten: You don't have them -- just the zoom?  Hmm.  Well, no, that's
        fine, that's great, no, no, that's really great, that's great.
        Now then, my nipples don't work.
Lister: Er, in what way `don't work'?
Kryten: Well, uh, when I was a mechanoid, the right nipple-nut was used
        to, uh, regulate body temperature, while the left nipple-nut
        was used mainly to, uh, pick up shortwave radio transmissions.
        Now, what I'm saying is, no matter how hard I twiddle it, I can't
        seem to pick up Jazz FM.
Lister: Human nipples don't do that, Kryte.
Kryten: I see.  Fine.  Ah: recharging.  Now, I presume that, uh, when a
        human wants to recharge they do it much the same way mechanoids
        do.  Indeed, I have located what I presume to be the recharging
        socket, but for some strange reason it doesn't appear to have the
        standard three-pin adaption.  Now, do I have to use some kind of
        special adaptor? because, no matter what do, the lead just keeps
        falling out.
Lister: Kryten, we eat and sleep: that's our way of recharging.
Kryten: Hmm.  Ah yes, now, I wanted to talk to you about something.
        Something about, um, well, something I know we humans get a
        little embarrassed about.  It's a bit of a taboo subject -- not
        the sort of thing we like to sit around and chat about in polite
        conversation.
Lister: Kryten, I'm an enlightened twenty-third century guy.  Spit it
        out, man.
Kryten: Well, I want to talk to you about my penis.  I knew it,
        you've gone straight into smirk mode.  Aren't we both two
        human adults?  Can't we discuss our reproductive system
        without adolecent sniggering?
Lister: Yeah, of course we can.
Kryten: Thank you. [hands Lister polaroid]  Well?
Lister: `Well' what?
Kryten: Well, what do you think?
Lister: I'm not quite with you here, Kryten.  What am I supposed to say?
Kryten: I want to know: is that normal?
Lister: What? Taking photographs of it and showing it to your mates?
        No, it's not!
Kryten: Well, but is it supposed to look like that?
Lister: Well, yeah.
Kryten: It's hideous!  That's the best design they could come up with?
        Are you seriously telling me there were choices, and someone
        said "Ah, there, that's it.  That's the shape we're looking
        for: The last-chicken-in-the-shop look"?  Shakespeare had one?
        Einstein?  Perry Como sang `Memories are Made of This' with
        one of those stashed in his slacks?
Lister: Well, yeah.
Kryten: No wonder humans don't have a zoom mode!  Ugh.  Now, take a
        look at this [hands Lister polaroid.  Lister rotates it
        several times, perplexed] and this.  [hands Lister second
        polaroid.  Lister holds them side-by-side, then top to bottom.
        Sudden shock]  Now why do you suppose that happened?
Lister: Wwwwwhat were you thinking of at the time?
Kryten: Well, nothing in particular, sir.  I was just idly flicking
        through an electrical-appliance catalogue.  I came across the
        section on super-deluxe vacuum cleaners and suddenly my
        underpants elastic was catapulted across the medical bay.
Lister: You see, man, you're neither one thing or the other.  You shouldn't
        be getting erotic thoughts about electrical appliances.
Kryten: It /was/ a triple-bag easy-glide vac with turbo-suction and a
        self-emptying dustbag.
Lister: Kryten, I don't care what model it was.  No vacuum cleaner
        should give a human being a double polaroid.  Do yourself a
        favour, man, change back.
Kryten: Back?  Become one of those poor sappy sad-act mechanoids again?
        This is my dream.  Hey listen, listen, I've got a joke for
        you.  Now, how many mechanoids does it take to change a
        lightbulb?
Lister: [sadly] I don't know.
Kryten: Twelve.  And you know why?
Lister: [even sadder] Why?
Kryten: Because they're so stupid!  Uhuhuhuhuh.  Isn't that just the
        greatest joke?  Huhuh.  I've got another one.  Ever heard of
        the mechanoid peeping-Tom?  [Looks repeatedly, like a machine.]
        Uhuhuhuhuh.
[Lister leaves.  External shot with Kryten's laughs echoing]
[Later]
Cat:    Man, this is a totally wacked-out idea.  It's never going to
        work.
Rimmer: That DNA machine can do anything.  Why shouldn't it work? The
        hard part was finding one of my dead cells.
Cat:    You really think you can clone yourself from your own dandruff?
Rimmer: Why not?  Dandruff has DNA in it.  That machine has a clone
        facility.
Cat:    But a man made from dandruff?  It's never going to work.  The
        first time you take a shower with medicated shampoo, you'll
        disappear.
Rimmer: I won't be made of dandruff -- my body will be recreated from
        the genetic pattern contained in its structure.
[Lister enters]
Cat:    How's Kryten?
Lister: Confused.  If he ever offers to show you his photo collection,
        my advice is: decline, politely.
#4_2
>From `D.N.A.':
(shortly after Lister has been turned into a chicken)
Cat:    The question is: Can we turn him back again?
Rimmer: The question is: Do we want to?
#4_2
>From `D.N.A.':
Rimmer: You're totally egocentric, you flee at the first sign of trouble,
        you always look out for Number One, you're vain, you're narcissistic,
        and you're self-obsessed.
Cat:    You just listed all my best features!
#4_2
>From `D.N.A.':
(fighting the Mutton Vindaloo Beast)
Lister: Of course! Lager -- the only thing that can kill a vindaloo!
#4_3
>From `Justice':
Convict: You have no weapons?
Lister:  No.  You have no weapon?
Convict: No. [they advance] Guess what. [pulls out a knife] I lied.
Lister:  Guess what. [pulls out a length of pipe] So did I.
Convict: But I lied ... [pulls out a gun] ... twice.
Lister:  I didn't think of that.
#4_3
>From `Justice':
Cat: My god! His head burst!
#4_4
>From `White Hole':
(asserting that is isn't drunk)
Lister: I am not pished.
#4_4
>From `White Hole':
Talkie Toaster: Given that God is infinite, and that the Universe is also
                infinite, would you like a toasted tea cake?
#4_5
>From `Dimension Jump':
Mellie: If you're interested, I'll be in my quarters, covered in maple syrup.
Ace:    Sorry, Mellie -- I don't fraternise with staff.
Mellie: I resign.
Ace:    I'll be there at 1300.
#4_5
>From `Dimension Jump':
Ace: Sorry, Bongo, but lunch is ... on Mellie.
#4_5
>From `Dimension Jump':
Holly:  Purple alert! Purple alert!
Lister: What's a purple alert?
Holly:  Well, it's like not as bad as a red a alert, but a bit worse
        than a blue alert -- sort of a mauve alert.
#4_5
>From `Dimension Jump':
Ace: Smoke me a kipper, skipper; I'll be back for breakfast.
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
Cat:    What? Am I the only sane one here?  Why don't we drop the
        defensive shields?
Kryten: A superlative suggestion, sir, with just two minor flaws.
        One: We don't have any defensive shields, and Two: We don't
        have any defensive shields.  Now, I realise that, technically
        speaking, that's only one flaw, but I thought that it was such
        a big one it was worth mentioning twice.
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
Binks:  Binks to Enlightenment. Have arrived on the derelict. Confirm initial
        speculation: there is absolutely nothing of any value or interest here.
        It's one of the old Class II ship-to-surface vessels -- the very model,
        in fact, that was withdrawn due to major flight design flaws. Crew:
        three. One Series 4000 mechanoid, almost burnt out. Give it maybe three
        years. Nothing of salvagable value.  Ah, Felix Sapiens -- bred from the
        domestic housecat, and about half as smart. No value in future study of
        this species.  What have we here? A human being, or a very close
        approximation. Chronological age: mid-20s. Physical age: 47. Grossly
        overweight, unnecessarily ugly, otherwise would recommend it for the
        museum. Apart from that, of no value or interest.
Lister: Lister to Red Dwarf. We have in our midst a complete smegpot. Brains
        in the anal region. Chin absent, presumed missing. Genitalia small
        and inoffensive. Of no value or interest.
Binks:  Binks to Enlightenment. Evidence of primitive humour. The human has
        knowledge of irony, satire and imitation. With patient tuition could,
        maybe, master simple tasks.
Lister: Lister to Red Dwarf. Displays evidence of spoiling for a rumble. Seems
        unable to grasp simple threats. With careful pummelling could,
        possibly, be sucking tomorrow's lunch through a straw.
Binks:  Binks to Enlightenment. The human is under the delusion that he is
        somehow able to bestow physical violence to a hologram.
Lister: Lister to Red Dwarf. The intruder seems to be blissfully unaware that
        we have a rather sturdy holowhip in the munitions cabinet. Unless he
        wants his derriere minced like burger meat, he'd better be history in
        two seconds flat.  (eats cigarette, removes his jacket)
Binks:  Binks to Enlightment. Recon mission complete. Transmit. With speed.
        Enlightment, quickly, please.
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
Rimmer: I thought it was the worst pile of blubbery schoolgirl mush I have
        ever been forced to endure.  I consider it an insult to my backside
        to have to sit growing carbuncles through such putrid adolescent slush.
Kryten: You didn't find it uplifting?
 ...
Cat:    Personally, I thought it started well, then fell apart.  All that
        stuff about the ducks getting into trouble was great, but then it
        went black and white and I fell asleep.
Kryten: But, sir, that was the cartoon before the main programme!
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
(commenting on his opinion of `King of Kings; The Story of Jesus')
Rimmer: Well, its true -- a simple carpenters son who learns magic tricks like
        that and /doesn't/ go into show business?
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
Kryten: They've taken Mr Rimmer! Sir, they've taken Mr Rimmer!
Cat:    Quick!  Let's get out of here before they bring him back!
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
(about the lack of a Sex Deck on Red Dwarf)
Nirvana: Well, what do you do when you want to have sex?
Rimmer:  We ... go for runs? Watch gardening programmes on the ship's vid...
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
Nirvana: It was ... different.
Rimmer:  Different?
Nirvana: You make love like a Japanese meal -- small portions but /so/ many
         courses.
 ...
Nirvana: We usually talk.
Rimmer:  What do you talk about?
Nirvana: Oh, research, new theories, mission profiles...
Rimmer:  I'm sorry.  I must seem very ignorant.  I hardly said anything, apart
         from `Geronimo'.
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
Lister: Rimmer, they're a bunch of arrogant, pompous, emotionally weird,
        stuck-up megalomaniacs -- do you really think you'll fit in with
        them?  What am I saying? Bon voyage.
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
Kryten: Sir, I beg you to reconsider.  If not for your sanity, you haven't
        even considered the moral implications of your decision.  You will
        be joining a society where you will be compelled to have sex with
        beautiful, brilliant women, twice daily, on demand.  Now, am I really
        the only one here who finds that just a little bit tacky?
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
(talking to Lister about Rimmer's mind patch)
Kryten: You must remember that he is operating on a completely different
        level to us now.  To him, we are the intellectual equivalent of
        domestic science teachers.
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
Woman:  I'd just like to get one thing clear in my mind.  This is an
        opportunity to be revived as a hologram and become a part of
        the crew ... and the crew is you three.  Basically, you spend
        your time salvaging derelict spaceships, playing poker, and
        eating curries.
Lister: We don't exactly do that much salvaging.
Woman:  But you do sound like you eat a lot of curries.
Kryten: We don't eat curries every night, if that's what you mean.  In fact,
        I distinctly remember a time last June: Mr Lister had a pizza.
Lister: That's right.
Kryten: Remember? And you didn't like it.  But then I poured curry sauce all
        over it, and he just yummed it up!
Woman:  And the all-night poker sessions: is it always /strip/ poker?
Lister: It all depends on how drunk we are.
Cat:    Or how much curry he's had.
Woman:  So, and this probably sounds like a stupid question, you don't have
        much interest in horse riding or ballet?
Lister: Fine by us -- just so long as we can have a curry afterwards, we're
        cool.  Well, of course, there's one or two other people we have to
        see, but, in theory, if offered the post of replacement hologram,
        would you accept?
Woman:  No.  No, I think I'm better off where I am.
Cat:    But you're dead!
Woman:  And meeting you guys has really made me appreciate it a whole lot
        more.
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
(making his goodbyes)
Rimmer: I just want to say: over the years, I have come to regard you as ...
        people I met.
#5_1
>From `Holoship':
Rimmer: Oh, and, sir, you're wrong.  We won't be apart -- we just won't be
        together.  [pauses, then cringes]  I cannot believe I just said that!
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Kryten: Ah, Virgil's Aeneid -- the epic tale of Agamemnon's pursuit of Helen
        of Troy.  The classic work by the greatest Latin poet who ever put
        quill to parchment.
Lister: Yeah, it's the comic-book version.
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Kryten: That is the Inquisitor.  He prunes away the wastrels, expunges the
        wretched, and deletes the worthless.
Rimmer: We're in big trouble.
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Rimmer: Why did no-one mention this before?  If I had been told about this
        at the start, that the object was to lead a worthwhile life, I could
        have done something about it.  All those charity telethons when I used
        ring in and pledge donations -- if I had known all this, I would have
        given them /my/ credit card number.
Kryten: Sir, sir, you don't have to be a great philanthropist or a missionary
        worker -- you simply have to seize the gift of life...
Rimmer: Oh god.
Kryten: ...make a contribution...
Rimmer: Oh god.
Kryten: ...no matter how small.
Rimmer: Oh god.
Kryten: You simply have to have led a life that wasn't totally egocentric,
        vain and self serving.
Rimmer: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you!
Kryten: I'm just trying to make you feel better, sir.
Rimmer: Well, shut up, then!
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
NOTE: Inq=Inquisitor
Inq:    Who is to be first?
Rimmer and Cat: Lister.
Inq:    The hologram.  You shall be first.
Rimmer: Pardon? Sir?
Inq:    You have been granted the greatest gift of all: the gift of life. Tell
        me: what have you done to deserve this superlative good fortune?
Rimmer: Well, I say this with the highest respect, but, what gives you the
        right to ask -- no, actually to demand -- that answer of me, your
        magnificence? (curtsies and bows)
Inq:    All must answer to the Inquisitor.
Rimmer: But how do I know I'll get a fair hearing?
Inq:    Because, like all who stand before the Inquisitor, your judge shall be
        (lifts visor) yourself.
Rimmer: Oh smeg.
Inq:    Oh smeg indeed, matey.
Rimmer: Everyone is judged by their own self?
Inq:    It's a bit metaphysical, I know, but it's the only fair way.
        Now then, justify yourself.
Rimmer: Well, first I--
Inq:    Liar!
Rimmer: I've done good things.
Inq:    No you haven't.
Rimmer: In my heart, I've always tried to do good things.
Inq:    No you didn't.
Rimmer: Look, in my way I've tried to lead a good life.
Inq:    When?
Rimmer: (pause) Ah!  What's that in the corner?  It's the Archangel Gabriel!
        Well, that's me converted.  I'm a new man.  Hallelujah.
Inq:    You are a slimy, despicable, rat-hearted, green discharge of a man,
        aren't you?'
Rimmer: Well, sort of, yes.
Inq:    So then, justify yourself.
Rimmer: What else could I have been?  My father was a half-crazed military
        failure.  My mother was a bitch-queen from hell.  My brothers had
        all the looks and talent.  But what did I have?  Unmanageable hair
        and ingrowing toenails.  Yes, I admit I'm nothing, but, from what
        I started with, nothing is up.
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Cat:  Hi, buddy!
Inq:  This is your judgment day, bud.  I gotta be cruel.  There can't be no
      favours.
Cat:  I'm hearing you on FM.
Inq:  I have to ask you the question.  Justify your existence.  What
      contribution have you made?
Cat:  I have given pleasure to the world because I have such a beautiful ass.
Inq:  Well, that's true.
Cat:  Can I go now?
Inq:  That's your case?
Cat:  You need more?
Inq:  Some might say that's a pretty shallow argument.
Cat:  Some might say I'm a pretty shallow guy, but a shallow guy with a great
      ass.
Inq:  Somtimes you astonish even me.
Cat:  Thank you.
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Inq:    Well, Kryten, justify yourself.
Kryten: I'm not sure I can.
Inq:    But surely your life is replete with good works.  There can be few
        individuals who have lived a more selfless life.
Kryten: But I am programmed to live unselfishly, and therefore any good works
        I do come not out of fine motives, but as a result of a series of
        binary commands I am compelled to obey.
Inq:    Well then, how can any mechanical justify himself?
Kryten: Perhaps only if he attempted to break his own programming and conduct
        his own life according to a set of values he arrived at independently.
Inq:    Your argument invites deletion.
Kryten: The rules are yours, not mine.
Inq:    Do you wish to be erased?
Kryten: Well, I am programmed not to wish for anything.  I serve.
Inq:    In a human, this behaviour might be considered stubborn.
Kryten: But I am not human, and neither are you.  And it is not our place to
        judge them.  I wonder why you do.
Inq:    (Closes visor) Enough.
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Inq:    (opens visor) Well, get out of this one, smeghead.
Lister: What are you talking about?
Inq:    You know what you could have made of your life if you'd tried.  What
        you could've become.
Lister: So?
Inq:    You've got brains, man -- brains you've never used.
Lister: So?
Inq:    So, justify yourself.
Lister: Spin on it.
Inq:    (closes visor)  The Inquisition is over.  I have reached my verdict.
        Two of you have failed to become that which you might so easily have
        been.  You have lived without merit, so will not have lived at all.
[Rimmer and Cat disappear]
Lister: You scum!  You've wiped them out!
Kryten: Sir...
Lister: He's crazy, Kryten.  He's erased the Cat and Rimmer!
Inq:    They are quite safe.
Kryten: Sir, I'm afraid it is we who are to be erased.
Lister: Ah.
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Lister: Well, if you've got some amazing secret plan up your sleeve, Kryten,
        now's the time to mention it.
Kryten: No plan, sir -- no sleeves.
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Lister: We used to be your shipmates.
Rimmer: Only ... we've forgotten you.
Lister: Yeah.
Rimmer: [to Cat] Well, I don't know about you, but I'm convinced.
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
(proving that he knows Rimmer)
Lister: You once spent an afternoon on the Samaritan switchboard, and four
        people committed suicide!
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
(distracting the Inquisitor)
Kryten: Excuse me, could I just distract you for a brief second?
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Lister: Nyah!  It's the old backfiring-time-gauntlet trick.
#5_2
>From `Inquisitor':
Kryten: You are a sick, sick person!  If mechanoids could barf, I'd be on to
        my fifth bag by now.
#5_3
>From `Terrorform':
"Kryten personal blackbox recording.  Time: unknown.  Location: unknown.
 Cause of accident: unknown.  Should someone find this recording, perhaps
 it will shed light as to what happened here.  My short-term memory has
 been erased.  This I ascribe to the proximity of the magnetic coils from
 Starbug's rear engine.  Secondly, due to the proximity of the magnetic
 coils, my short-term memory appears to have been erased.  This, combined
 with the erasure of my short-term memory, has left me a little disoriented."
#5_3
>From `Terrorform':
Cat: This sounds like a twelve-change-of-underwear trip!
#5_3
>From `Terrorform':
(lines like `> this' are typed -- spelling errors sic)
Lister: > Help. Something is crawling up my leg. I think it's a taranshula.
Cat:    You're playing that dumb adventure game!
Lister: > It's in my boxers. I think it's making a nest.
Cat:    Well, buy a potion from Gandalf the Master Wizard -- that's what I
        usually do.
Lister: > I'm SERIOUS.
Cat:    (looks down, sees it, then begins typing too)
        > It has an eye the size of a meatball.
Lister: > Kill it.
Cat:    > How?
Lister: > I can't think straight. I've got a taranshula with an eye the size
        of a meatball setting up home in my joy department. Help me.
Cat:    > I'm scared
Lister: > YOU'RE scared? How d'you think I feel?
Cat:    > You haven't SEEN it!
Lister: > The lower half of my body has gone numb.
Cat:    > That's probably for the best.
Lister: > It's moving. Oh *$%^**!!!!
Hand:   > Hello. Kryten in danger. No time to explain. Follow.
#5_3
>From `Terrorform':
Kryten: Sir, a couple of brief points: firstly, you're not a qualified
        service engineer, and, consequently, sawing me in two will
        invalidate my guarantee; secondly, I wouldn't trust you to open
        a can of sardines that was already open.
#5_3
>From `Terrorform':
Rimmer: Look, I don't know who you are or what you think you're doing, but
        I demand my right to a phone call.  Yes, I thought that would stop
        you.  I thought the threat of legal action would have you running
        for cover.
 ... [later, he is tied to a stake]
Rimmer: Is this the British embassy?  Does it even look the remotest bit like
        the British embassy?  I want to know who you are, what I'm doing here
        and I want to know now.
Priest: In accordance with the appetites of The Dark One, volitious ruler of
        this domain, we, the holy legions, proffer up this sacrifice to slake
        the vile, depraved thirstings of The Unspeakable One.
Rimmer: Well, that's cleared that up.
[the legions leave, and two women arrive]
        Thank God. Thank God. There were some very very strange men running
        around in black hoods with drums and rather unconvincing red eyes,
        but thank God you're here.  You know, I actually thought I was in the
        most awful danger? [the women rip off his robes] Is it me, or has it
        suddenly got rather hot in here?
 ... [later, the women are oiling him]
Rimmer: I am a 2nd Technician in the Space Corps, I am briefed to give you my
        name and number and nothing more.  I don't know who you people are or
        what you think you're playing at, but I'm not going to give you any-
        thing else.  You can oil me all you like, you can use your tongues and
        your full sensual lips to caress my erogenous zones onto a plateau of
        sexual ecstasy, but I'll tell you now: this nut's not for cracking.
[the women oil his nipples]
        However, far be it from me to change your game plan, if you absolutely
        insist on using erotic persuasion to achieve your devious ends, then
        so be it -- just have a large quatro-formaggio pizza with extra olives
        ready at the end.
[the women begin to go up to a small balcony]
        Er, where are you going?  What are you doing?  My god, are you going
        to take a flying leap?
Woman1: We are going to summon the master.
Rimmer: The master?
Woman2: You have been prepared for him.
Rimmer: This master character -- and I acknowledge I may not want to know the
        full answer to this one -- but why does he want me oiling particulary?
        Obviously whatever he has in mind is facilitated by my being slippery
        and pliant, yes?
Woman1: He always likes his victims to be oiled.  An oiled body is so much
        better for conducting the electricity.
Rimmer: Not the best news, but it could have been worse.
#5_3
>From `Terrorform':
Lister: Is it me, or are those frogs saying `useless'?
Frogs:  Useless, useless, Rimmer, you're useless.
Cat:    Hey, look at this! You've got a huge great blood-sucking leech
        on your neck. (rips it off) It's got a human face!
Lister: It's Rimmer's mum!
#5_4
>From `Quarantine':
Mr Flibble: Game over, boys!
#5_4
>From `Quarantine':
Kryten: Frankenstein was the creator -- not the monster.  It's a common
        misconception, held by all truly stupid people.
#5_4
>From `Quarantine':
Lister: Why do we never meet anyone nice?
Cat:    Why is it we never meet anyone who can shoot straight?
#5_4
>From `Quarantine':
Rimmer: So let me get this straight.  You want to fly on a magic carpet
        to see the King of the Potato People and plead with him for your
        freedom, and you're telling me you're completely sane?
#5_5
>From `Demons and Angels':
Lister: You guys have got to be yanking my chain!
#5_5
>From `Demons and Angels':
Holly:  Rude alert! Rude alert! An electrical fire has knocked out my
        voice-recognition unicycle! Many Wurlitzers are missing from my
        database! Abandon shop! This is not a daffodil! Repeat: This is
        not a daffodil!
Rimmer: Well, thankfully, Holly's unaffected.
#5_5
>From `Demons and Angels':
Holly: The phrase `cargo bay doors' does not appear to be in my lexicon.
#5_6
>From `Back to Reality':
Cat:    Don't fish swim south for the winter?
Kryten: That's birds, sir.
Cat:    Birds swim south for the winter? How do they breathe?
#5_6
>From `Back to Reality':
Lister: Why would a haddock kill itself?  Why am I even asking that question?
#5_6
>From `Back to Reality':
Cat: Hang five, guys -- I'm getting something. He committed suicide, he
     committed suicide, he committed suicide, and the fish committed suicide.
     There's some kind of link here, but I can't quite put my finger on it.
#5_6
>From `Back to Reality':
Kryten: Some kind of sea creature -- a life form we have never encountered
        before -- attacked this ship.  Its defence mechanism is a curious one.
        It secretes a venom -- a poison, possibly even an hallucinogenic --
        which disfunctions its prey by inducing despair.  Now, that's why the
        crewmembers, and even that fish, had committed suicide.  Unfortunately,
        we have been contaminated.  It's a greatly reduced dose but we may find
        that we do experience (bursts into tears) moments of despair and
        anguish.
Rimmer: (talking to them over the radio)  What about Lister and the Cat?
Lister: I'm OK.  I don't seem to be affected.  It's true, I don't think anyone
        has ever truly loved me in my entire life.  There's nothing new about
        that.
Cat:    What is it with you guys? This has gotten like Saturday Night at the
        Wailing Wall. Why is it always me that has to be the strong one?
        (crying) I mean, you guys just fall apart.
#5_6
>From `Back to Reality':
Kryten: Listen, whoever you are, don't push your luck by ordering whoever I am
        around because, almost certainly, whoever I am, I'm not the kind of guy
        who's going to take any crap from whoever you are.  So, before you
        start ordering me around, let's establish if I'm the kind of guy who
        doesn't mind being ordered around or if I'm kind of guy who gets all
        uptight being ordered around by whatever the kind of guy you are,
        CLEAR?
 ...
Kryten: "Jake Bullet: Cybernautic Detective."  I like that!  That sounds
        like the kind of hard-living flatfoot who gets the job done by
        cutting corners and bucking authority, and if those penpushers up
        at City Hall don't like it, well, they can park their overpaid fat
        asses on this mid digit and swivel -- swivel 'til they squeal like
        pigs on a honeymoon!"
Rimmer: On the other hand `Mr Bullet', perhaps the Cybernautics division
        is in charge of traffic control, and you just happen to have a
        rather silly macho name.
 ...
Kryten: (holding out his badge) Bullet. Cybernautics.
Cop:    That's traffic control.
#5_6
>From `Back to Reality':
Rimmer: Billy Doyle.  Well, that's a name that comes from the wrong side
        of the the tracks, isn't it?  You can see it all now: a youth spent
        in and out of corrective institutions; a string of illegitimate
        children; the wife will be all white shoes, no tights and blotchy
        legs; has to take up petty crime to cover the court orders for
        maintenance; before he knows it, he's standing in a bank with a
        sawn-off shotgun; somehow, it goes off; an old lady gets both barrels
        through a crocheted bobble hat; all he can do is hide, but where?;
        and then it hits him -- with his ill-gotten gains he can buy four
        years in a computer game and wait until the heat is off. And so ends
        the Ballad of Billy `Granny-Killer' Doyle.
Lister: It's yours.
Rimmer: What?!
Lister: It's yours, `Bill'.
Rimmer: No.
Lister: Check the ugly mug on the ID then, man.
Rimmer: `William Doyle'... `William Doyle'! Good old Bill Doyle.  That sounds
        like a hell of a good name to me -- probably connected to the Boston
        Doyles, old money, blue-chip stock...  You know, I think it's all
        starting to come back to me now.
Lister: What puzzles me slightly is what a man of such undoubted good
        breeding would be doing wearing a coat that smells like an elderly
        male yak has taken a leak in both the pockets.
Rimmer: Well, isn't it obvious?
Kryten: No, it isn't.
Rimmer: OH MY GOD. My name is Billy Doyle and my cologne is Eau de Yak Urine.
#5_6
>From `Back to Reality':
Rimmer: This is a nightmare. I'm on the run from the fascist police with a
        murderer, a mass murderer and a man in a bri-nylon shirt. I'm a piece
        of flotsam, jetsam human wreckage sputum bag who smells like a yak
        latrine, and now my best flashing mac is about to be splattered with
        an android's brain. I'm after you with the gun.
#alt.tv.red-dwarf
NOT from RD but from alt.tv.red-dwarf:
   Is it just me, or does everyone whistle the theme song when reading this
   newsgroup?

==============================================================================
REMEMBER - submissions/corrections/comments to ROBINSON_M@kosmos.wcc.govt.nz,
NOT to the newsgroup.