All language subtitles for Red Dwarf s08e04 Cassandra.eng

("RED DWARF" THEME)

Have you found a way to get us out of here?

I have, actually. I've devoted all my run-time
to looking for a loophole in the prison regs,

and I've found something which means you
can serve your two-year sentence

in just 14 weeks.

What have I got to do?

Become a dog.

- A dog?
- According to my data banks,

dog years are seven times shorter
than human years.

You can't fault that plan on its mathematics.

Maybe you can fault it on the fact I'm not a dog.

According to a 20th-century newspaper
called "The National Enquirer",

the operation's straightforward.

A roverostomy, they call it.

Here's a photograph
of a bloke who had it done.

That's a dog!

See how convincing it is?

Even you're fooled.

Become a dog. That is the crappiest, most
pathetic plan you've come up with all week.

Give me a chance - it's only Monday.

(BEEP)

What happened to my life -
career, prospects, friends?

I had it all and threw it away. It's a tragedy.

What? You had none of that stuff.

You're right. I had none of that stuff.

I had absolutely nothing and I threw it all away.

It's an even bigger tragedy.

We'll only get through this
by being positive, by being...

What did women tennis players reckon
was so important - begins with C?

Cunnilingus?

Centred. By being centred, focused.

It's only two years. With good behaviour,
it could be 18 months.

Remember you were born,
then you were 18 months? It flashed past.

That's 'cause you had two breasts big as
your head at your beck and call day and night.

Give me that now, and I wouldn't be whinging.

- What's this?
- Canary outfits and first meeting information.

I volunteered for the Canaries.

- Some bloke came round so I signed up.
- For the Canaries?

Yeah. You should see the list of privileges
you get. It's unbelievable.

- You don't know what the Canaries are.
- It's a singing troop. A cappella.

(SINGS) You are the sunshine of my life

Ooh

That's why I'll always be around...

They're nothing to do with singing, are they?
Holly lied to me, didn't he?

He was taking the smeg!

Oh, Listy.

Listy, Listy, Listy.

Well, go on, then. What have I signed up for?

In the 19th century, when miners went down
a pit, they'd lower a canary down first in a cage.

What, and make 'em do some mining?

They were sick
in the 19th century, weren't they?

How much coal can a little canary get?

And if the atmosphere was noxious,
guess what the canary did?

Complained to the foreman?

It died, Listy.

The canary's job was to go into the most
dangerous, unpleasant and smeggy situations,

and see if it could stay alive, then they'd know
if it was safe to send in the important people.

- I'm gonna kill him!
- How come you've not heard of the Canaries?

Recruitment posters are all over the bogs.
Haven't you seen them?

When I'm in the men's toilets in prison,
I tend not to look around.

It's like playing golf. I concentrate on me grip,

keep me eye on the ball,
and try not to veer off to the side.

The Canaries. Do you know
what it's supposed to stand for?

"Convict Army Nearly All Retarded
Inbred Evil Sheepshaggers."

(LAUGHS) They haven't got an X chromosome
to share between them!

Smeg!

- It gets worse as well.
- Worse? Go on.

I signed you up, too.

I forged your signature.
I thought I was doing you a favour.

- Me? Why?
- I've signed us all up.

- Kryten, Kris. Everyone.
- No way.

No way am I becoming a Canary.

It's a great honour for floor 13,

for today we are visited by Captain Hollister,
who has a special assignment.

At last some action!

I've been going mental. All this time,
cooped up, not killing nothing. Yes!

Kill Crazy, shut up, yer punk!

OK. Listen up.

We've located a ship, the SSS Silverbird,
buried at the bottom of an ocean moon.

Remote probe has come back
with no signs of a crew.

No bodily remains, no skeletons - zip.

We want you guys to go onboard
and find out why.

A-one, a-two, a-one, two, three, four.

You are the sunshine of my life

Ooh

That's why I'll always be around

Rimmer!

Sorry, sir. We appear to be in the wrong
hobby group. We'll leave immediately. Go!

This is where you're staying. Now get on with it.

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. You heard the warden.

He wants you to get on with it. From the top.

You are the sunshine of my life...

Rimmer!

Sorry, sir. I thought you...

Shut up! You're a member of the toughest
combat army this side of Pluto.

I've seen custard factories less yellow
than you are!

- Start behaving like a man.
- A man, sir?

Yes, of course, sir. A man.

A man? Perhaps if you could just remind me,
I am sure it will all come back.

(CRUNCHING)

Continue, Captain.

(RATTLING)

It's inconceivable the ship
was sent out without a crew,

so whatever devoured the crew, bones and all,

might still be there,

so be careful.

Let's go kill something!

Yes!

I hope it's got like big teeth and claws
and like loads of heads. Great!

Here we go at last. Yeah!

OK. Stay together. Keep 'em peeled.

What's that?

- (KRYTEN) Where?
- It's shaking from side to side like a leaf.

I think that's your shadow, sir.

Located the mainframe.
Maybe it can tell us something.

Good evening, Arnold. I've been looking
forward to your arrival so very much.

- How do you know my name?
- My name is Cassandra.

I am a computer with the ability
to predict the future

with an accuracy rating of 100 per cent.

Bless you.

Bless you? What do you mean?

A-choo!

Kris has a tissue in her pocket. She says,
"Would you like this?" You say, "Thanks."

- Would you like this?
- Thanks.

- Extraordinaryl
- Extraordinary!

The questions we can askl It tells the future.

The questions we can ask! It tells the future.

How does it work?
The future's not happened yet.

I wasn't going to say that.

- I never said you would...
- But how does it work?

- The future's not happened yet.
- ... although you do.

Smeg!

Let's ask her a question about the future.
A biggie.

Cassandra, do we ever get back to earth?
Have humans survived?

Do I ever find my singing tie pin?

Do we want to know about the future?

Do we want to know how and when we die?

Kris is right. Something like that could mess
your life up for ever. I have a question.

I know, Arnold. I know
the rest of this conversation.

So what's the answer?

He chokes to death aged 181,
trying to remove a bra with his teeth.

What was the question?

I just asked how you died.

You what? I don't wanna know that.

- Whose bra?
- 181?

Probably your own.

Come on, though. Taking a bra off with me teeth
at 181. That's a hell of a sexy way to go!

So long as the teeth are in your mouth
at the time, sir.

I'm really screwed up now. I never wanted
to know that - know how I die.

It's completely spoilt the surprise!

Kryten, this is where you share your theory
with your crewmates.

I have a theory. The Silverbird didn't crash,
did it, Cassandra?

The ship was sent here by the Space Corps
on autopilot to get rid of you -

to abandon you at the bottom
of a lunar sea in deep space.

That's brilliant, bud! How did you work that out?

I read it on this mission directive here.

So, there was no dead bodies on board
because there was no crew.

A computer that predicts the future...

- ... is dangerous indeed.
- Is dangerous... Yes, precisely.

We should be making tracks.

I'm afraid that's not going to happen.
The bulkhead's just given way

and we're shipping water
at 1,000 gallons a second.

All the Canaries will be dead within one hour

- except for Rimmer...
- Yes!

... who will be dead in 20 minutes.

Only Lister, Kryten, the Cat
and Kochanski survive.

What happens to Rimmer?

He has a heart attack brought on
by the stress of knowing he's going to die

and collapses during a conversation with me
in 19 minutes and 31 seconds.

I don't believe you. I simply don't believe you.

We shall see, or rather, YOU shall see.

I have already seen.

The hairs on the back of my neck
are standing on end.

Mine, too, and not just the ones
on the back of my neck - it's one up, all up.

Well, it's not the first time we've been
in a situation like this, is it?

Hell, no. We've drunk coffee thousands of times.

We're veterans.

Future echoes, remember?

- Future echoes - all right!
- What was that?

We learned that if the future's already decided,
you can't change it.

Yeah, but what do you know?
You're a chicken-soup machine repairman,

not Hank Handsome, Space Adventurer.

Don't get ideas above your station,

and your station is Git Central.

I've been surviving in space five, six years.

When it comes to weirdy, paradoxy space stuff,
I bought the T-shirt.

He bought it and I ironed it for him.

- Exactly.
- So, you're saying the future's the future,

and, like your underpants,
the chances of change are remote.

Well, I don't accept it.

- Hey, I'm not happy about it, man.
- None of us are.

You dying is the last thing we want, bud,
especially me.

Hell, I'll probably have to help dig the hole.

So, six years of space adventuring,
six years of experience and knowledge

have led you to the conclusion
that I'm totally stuffed.

Mr Rimmer has a point, sir.
Your greater knowledge makes you pessimistic,

while his ignorance and naivety
keep his mind receptive to a possible solution.

Shut your stupid flat head, you.

So, when you don't know enough
to know that you don't know enough,

there's no fear holding you back - you achieve
things which people with more brains can't.

- Precisely.
- He's got the power of ignorance.

With the ignorance he's got, that makes him
one of the most powerful men that's ever lived.

Harness your stupidity, sir.
Employ your witlessness.

Use your empty-headed simplistic moron mind
and find a solution.

OK. I've got an idea.

Replay our meeting with Cassandra in your CPU,

and tell me if at any point,
anyone ever called me Rimmer.

- What?
- (BEEPING)

At no point did anyone refer to you as Rimmer.
In fact, we barely looked at you.

That's what I thought.

Cassandra said, "Rimmer dies,"
but that doesn't necessarily mean me.

- Who does it mean, then, your dad?
- Cassandra doesn't know the future.

She sees pictures of it.

She could have seen another guy
die of a heart attack who's called Rimmer.

- He's right.
- All I've got to do

is to find someone I can
introduce to Cassandra as Rimmer,

and it will be them that stiffs out and not me.

Such lowlife conniving -
it's impossible not to be impressed!

What I wouldn't give
to have your weasel gene, sir!

- Now, wait a minute.
- Oh, look, here's Mr Knot.

- You made this area secure?
- Yes, sir. Coffee, sir?

We have to inspect the mainframe. Where is it?

Agh! You idiot!
What the hell do you think you're doing?

Please...

Have my jacket. I insist.

Then I shall lead you to Cassandra.
There we are, sir.

A perfect fit, sir.

- Lead on, Rimmer.
- Don't call me Rimmer.

- That's your name.
- But Rimmer is so full of nobility

and quiet courage.

Call me Arsewipe or Fishbreath.

Not Rimmer, sir. Never Rimmer.

OK, Arsewipe, whatever you say.
Now, where's the mainframe?

Hello, Arnold. Bang on time.

I've brought a visitor. Do you know his name?

- Yes, I do... Knot.
- What?

- Knot.
- What?

Let me finish. Not that it matters what his
name is. Our relationship doesn't last very long.

- I understand you have the ability to predict...
- ... the future, yes.

- 100 per cent...
- ... reliable, yes.

- What happens to me? Do I get back to earth?
- No, you die of a heart attack

after hearing you're going
to die of a heart attack.

You filthy... (GROANS)

- Poor Rimmer.
- Yes, poor old Rimmer.

- My name is Knot...
- Your name is not what?

Knot! Knot! Knot!

- Is he dead now?
- I'm afraid so.

Yes!

He died of a massive coronary,
just as I prophesied.

Yes!

You seem inordinately happy, Arnold, but why?
You're going to die, too.

But you said... I've just...
I'm going to die, too?

I already told you. Rimmer dies of a heart attack,
then you and the other Canaries die, too.

All except Lister, Kryten, Kochanski
and the Cat. I've seen it.

That's as well as maybe,
but you have you seen this?

Yes, I'm afraid I have.

- You were right. There's nothing I can do.
- According to Cassandra, we four survive.

Therefore, while we are here,
we cannot die. Regard.

(GUN DOESN'T FIRE)

Duck, sir.

(BULLET RICOCHETS)

Duck again, sir!

As I thought.

So, in other words, if I...

- What's that for?
- You can't die.

Yeah, but I can still feel pain, you smeghead!

How about we use our powers of invulnerability
which will last until we return to Red Dwarf

and escort Mr Rimmer up to the obs deck
and into the diving bell?

(LISTER) The diving bell. We've made it.

Where did he go?

Yo!

(RUSHING WATER)

- Hear that?
- Water.

Kris, take cover. Water's coming!

Great! Everything above us is flooded

and now we're back down
in the bowels again with Cassandra.

It's coming true.

My death! It's all coming true.

You tried to cheat the future and failed,
as I knew you would.

So what happens now? How?

How do I die?

Lister catches you making love to Kochanski

and shoots you through the head
with a harpoon gun.

Can you just double-check that?

I've seen it. It's what happens -
in the old laundry room.

So let me just repeat what I think you're saying.

Arnold - that's me -

and Kochanski - that's the woman,
the really attractive one you saw earlier -

me and her are in bed giving it rizz...

Lister - the dumpy one
with the stupid haircut -

walks in and shoots me
while I'm making love with Kochanski?

That is what is going to happen.

Fantastic!

- I can't believe what you're telling me.
- I can scarcely believe it myself.

I never thought you'd look at me twice.

Neither did I.

But, apparently, we're gonna make love.
Unbe-smegging-lievable or what?

- It's not warm in here. Fancy a wee nip?
- No.

But why would I want to sleep with you?
It doesn't make sense.

Maybe you get blind-drunk.

That doesn't excuse my other four senses.

Right. Barely an hour to go.
Shall we get started?

I mean, let's face it,
you can't change the future - sadly.

But you said you could.

Yeah, I've changed my mind now.

Shall we play the opera game instead?

Kris, it's what Cassandra saw.
You can't cheat fate.

There's no way on earth that I'm climbing
out of my clothes and clambering into that bed.

My clothes are soaking!

Take them off and dry them on the heater.

It's coming true. It's all coming true.

It's coming true. It's all coming true!

(GROANS)

Bud, you can't go back there.

Cassandra said Kris survives,

and the only way that's gonna happen
is if someone goes back and saves her.

Chuck us that harpoon gun, will ya?

Ba-la-bup-doodle-up-bap!

I'm not sure about this. This is the first time
I've been seduced by predeterminism theory.

One hour exactly.

Bloody buggering hell!

Tonight must be the night
they put the clocks forward!

I've got it.

That's more than I did.

I've worked it all out.

I never get any breaks ever!
20 seconds later, you could have been on top

and I could have used you as a human shield.

I must have been mad. What the hell
was I thinking? I felt sorry for you.

- Shut up and listen to me.
- Why aren't you mad that I'm in bed with him?

'Cause I know why you're in bed with him.

- I also know that I don't kill him.
- Oh, but Cassandra promised.

Cassandra made that up
to force you two together,

so that you'd feel sorry for him
and sleep with him.

- Why did she say she saw it happen?
- To make it happen.

- But why?
- To try and punish me.

- Punish you? Why?
- 'Cause Cassandra has always known

how she dies.

She wants me to suffer for something
that I do in the future.

You kill her.

- She hates you because she knows you kill her.
- That's what this was about.

Kryten figured it out.

Kryten figured it out, did he? Good old Kryten (!)

But did he really have to figure it out
quite so damn fast?

Would it have killed him to take
30 minutes longer? Ten minutes even?

Two would have done.

I'm gonna take care of the rest of it now.

I'll see you two lovebirds later.

Look... Thanks for being with me tonight.

I can't think of anyone I'd rather share
my final hour with than you.

I really mean that.

I'm not all bad. In fact, sometimes,
I'm quite sweet and sensitive.

Bye.

By the way...

Is it OK if I keep these?

If the future's all worked out -
horoscopes and stuff -

it means we're not responsible for what we do.

We're actors saying lines in a script
written by somebody else.

I don't want to believe that. I want to believe
I'm in charge of me own life. Me own destiny.

So I'm not gonna kill you, Cassandra.
I'm out of here.

But you DO kill me. I've seen it.

Tomorrow's a new day - a fresh page
in a book that's not been written yet.

What happens in the future is up to me,

not some predetermined-destiny smeg.

I'll see you, kiddo.

Smeg.

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

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