RED DWARF Series 1 Episode 5, "Confidence and Paranoia"

1 Ext. View of space.

HOLLY: (In space) This is an SOS distress call from the mining ship Red

Dwarf. The crew are dead, killed by a radiation leak. The only

survivors were 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


of one of the dead crew.

(Returning) 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.

2 Int. 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!


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 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 me 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 independent

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

bank, 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.

3 Int. Sleeping quarters.

LISTER lies in his top bunk, watching the soppy film in the screen over

the sink.

CAROL: ...dying!


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: Tomorrow. 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 dreamt

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 philosophy 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!

The lights turn off.

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.

4 Int. Sleeping quarters. Later that 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?

5 Int. Corridor 159, outside sleeping quarters.

LISTER stumbles on the corridor, sobbing, sweating, shivering.

LISTER: I feel really hot.

LISTER stumbles and falls to the floor, unconscious.

6 Int. Level 147.

The CAT is dancing along the corridor, spraying various items with a

small misting bottle.



the rest of this is mine. Hey, this has been a good day. I've eaten


Tomorrow, I'm gonna see if I can't have *sex* with something. (Dancing

away) Oooooooooow, yeaaaaaaah...

7 Int. Corridor 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.

8 Int. Dining area.

The CAT stands at a food dispenser.

CAT: Food!

DISPENSING MACHINE: Today's specialty 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.

He flicks the chicken off the table to one side, catching it before it

hits the ground.

CAT: Uh uh, too slow, chicken merango. Too slow for this cat.

He places the chicken back on his plate, looks away, and flicks the

chicken off the other side, onto the floor

CAT: Hey! This chicken is faster than I thought!

He retrieves the chicken.

RIMMER: (Running into the room) Quick! Lister's fainted! He needs help!


The CAT jumps up as if to follow, prompting RIMMER to run back out, at

which point the CAT 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!

The CAT jumps up again, RIMMER runs back out, and the CAT sits back down.

RIMMER: (Walks back in.) Is there something wrong with you? Lister's


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. (Pointing 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.

9 Int. 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 me 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.


RIMMER: Lister, they've got to learn.

LISTER: I just nearly lost an eye!

RIMMER: How about an anal 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.

RIMMER: 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, stinking, 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 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 had happened 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.

10 Int. 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.

11 Int. Corridor 159.

RIMMER continues to back out of the room. There's no fish falling

outside 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 on

record 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.

12 Model shot.

Red Dwarf in space.

13 Int. 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.

CAT: That's all right. 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


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?


RIMMER: And, you started to hallucinate, all right?


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



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's your


14 Int. 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: (Jumping up) 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're

looking 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,


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 swellings 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, me laddo.

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!


PARANOIA: Why do you never listen to Mr. Rimmer? He's so much more

experienced, more level-headed, so much... better than you.



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



RIMMER makes a pained expression at PARANOIA's back.

15 SFX view of space.

Lots of dust swirls around.

HOLLY: (VO) Please note the dust storm approaching. The surface of the

ship is now out of bounds. All air locks are being automatically

sealed. Estimated duration: eighteen hours.

16 Int. Sleeping quarters.

CONFIDENCE listens as LISTER strums discordantly at his guitar.

LISTER: (Singing) ...our love I tried to kindle, like firelight it...

dwindled, 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 dwindling, the

kindling, all the -indling! I love all that stuff! When I think

there's fast buck merchants like Bee-toven 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 embarrassed 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


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.


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!

17 Int. Drive room.

PARANOIA and RIMMER are talking 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?


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 embarrassment.

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! 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 "Stabem," have you? He's one

of the scutters. Stabem, meet Lister's paranoia. Lister's paranoia,

this is Stabem.

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!

(Singing) Our love I tried to kindle--

LISTER: Not now!

RIMMER: Lister, you're not having her disk.

LISTER: Why? Because she'll rank above you?

PARANOIA: But she's a bright, good-looking, intelligent, 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 disk.

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. Outside 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 wrong-ability.

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!

18 Int. 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?

19 Model shot.

Red Dwarf is going through a huge dust storm.

20 Int. 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


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.


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.

21 Ext. Red Dwarf catwalk.

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: (Finding 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?


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!


LISTER: There's no oxygen out here!

CONFIDENCE: Hey! Oxygen's for losers! Come on.

LISTER: I *need* oxygen!

LISTER has reached the end of the catwalk.

CONFIDENCE: You don't need anything, King. You're the King!

LISTER: You're crazy!

LISTER grabs the handrail and vaults around behind CONFIDENCE.


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!

CONFIDENCE removes his helmet.


Almost immediately his body decompresses in a horrific explosion.

22 Int. 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?

He proceeds to lick the collar of one of the shirts enthusiastically.

RIMMER: Lister.


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


RIMMER: Whatever, Lister. I 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.

23 Int. Holo projection suite.

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, look, 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.