Quotes
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Rimmer : [pretending to be interested in art to impress Legion] Now, this 3-demensional sculpture in particular is quite exquisite. Its simplicity, its bold, stark lines. Pray, what do you call it?
Legion : The light switch.
Rimmer : The light switch?
Legion : Yes.
Rimmer : I couldn't buy it, then?
Legion : Not really. I need it to turn the lights on and off.
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Rimmer : Open communication channels, Lister. Broadcast on all known frequencies and in all known languages, including Welsh.
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Kryten : But this is insane. Hurting us is hurting yourself. Our pain is your pain.
Legion : Kryten, you forget. Not only do I possess your combined intellects and memories, I also share the sum of your malice and rage and anger, magnified many times. I'm capable of quite insanely irrational behaviour. Watch.
[Legion stabs himself in the hand. The others all feel pain in their hands]
Legion : The next hint of insurrection, and the scalpel ends up...
[he points it at his groin]
Legion : Here.
Kryten : Legion, that kind of tough talk doesn't scare us.
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Rimmer : Legion - may I be frank? It's not often we meet an individual who we feel could improve our already pretty-damn-fine top notch team. But in you, we feel we have. In all our travels we have met precisely 31 individuals - three one. And we've never felt moved to invite a single one to join our crew. True, most of them wanted in some way to suck out our brains... or erase us from history altogether. But nevertheless they still weren't what we would consider "the right stuff". We feel that you are different. We feel that you, like us, have the courage and the dignity it takes to make it... as a Dwarfer.
Legion : Mr. Rimmer, I am moved by the eloquence of your invitation - but it is quite impossible for me to leave the confines of the institute.
Rimmer : It was Lister wasn't it? He put you off.
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Kryten : Sir? May I recommend I load myself into the reverse-thrust tubes and you use my body as decoy-fodder? This will, of course leave me splattered across deep space and unable to complete today's laundry, for which I apologize in advance.
Rimmer : Kryten, stop your blathering and get in the damn tube.
Lister : Kryten, sit down. I'm not doing me own smeggin' ironing.
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Rimmer : 10 o'clock changeover. Anything to report?
Kryten : We're still lagging behind Red Dwarf, sir. Almost 24 hours behind now. Other than that, it's been a moderately quiet shift. Except for one small shock a couple of hours ago, when we noticed an alien invasion fleet off the starboard bow. Thankfully, it turned out to be Mr Lister's old sneezes that had congealed onto the radar screen.
Rimmer : How are we fuel wise?
Kryten : Unchanged for today, sir. However the supply situation grows increasingly bleak. We've recycled the water so often it's beginning to taste like Dutch lager.
Rimmer : We're OK for food though, aren't we?
Kryten : Confidentially sir, no. We've no meat, no pulses and hardly any grain. Worse than that, the only Liquorice Allsorts left are those little black twisty ones that everybody hates. If that weren't bad enough, space weevils have eaten the last of the corn supply.
Rimmer : So what's in the grill?
Kryten : Space weevil.
[Kryten brings out the cooked weevil]
Rimmer : You can't serve space weevil, Kryten. I mean, not even Lister with his single remaining taste bud will knowingly sit down and eat insectiod vermin. Well, let's face it, with him it's practically cannibalism.
Kryten : But it's incredibly nutritious, sir. I mean, after all, it is corn fed.
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Cat : [Deleted dialogue] Who is this dude? Some kind of zoo type, weird person collector?
Rimmer : My thoughts exactly. We must face the possibility that we may soon be led out of here, and forced to mate with a variety of strange colored, voluptuous alien women.
Cat : Is that really possible?
Rimmer : It is if prayers are ever answered.
