All language subtitles for Red Dwarf S04E06 Meltdown

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

Breakfast is served, sir.

[BELL RINGS ON TV]

Oh, boxing. Do you like boxing?

There's nothing wrong with boxing.

It's one of the great
working-class escapes, is boxing.

Just a sport like any other.

Two highly trained athletes
at the peak of physical perfection

trying to outwit each other
in a ring of combat.

In fact, at its best,
it's not a sport, it's an art form.

Female topless boxing?

Talk to me.

But they're not even hitting each other.

They just appear to be standing
in the Centre of the ring

and jiggling up and down.

So which one are you rooting for, sir?

I'm just praying it goes the distance.

As I was saying, sir,
breakfast is served.

Kryten, how many times have I told you?
I hate all this master-servant stuff.

I'm me own man. You're your own man.
And I'll get me own smegging breakfast.

Very good, sir.

Goodbye, waffles. Goodbye, maple syrup.

Goodbye, fresh cream.
So long, fresh strawberries.

Bon appetite, bin.

KRYTEN: Mr David, sir?

A homing pod arrived this morning.
There was just one item.

LISTER: Divadroid International?

Yes, that's the corporation
which created and supplied me, sir.

"To the leaseholder
of Kryten 2X4B-523P."

What, that's your full name?

Yes, but, personally,
I don't much like the 2X4B.

I think it's a jerky middle name.
Still, it could be worse.

I once knew an android
whose middle name was 2Q4B.

Poor sucker!

Greetings.

As you are no doubt aware,
your Kryten Series-3 mechanoid

ls now reaching the end
of its useful service life.

It can hardly have escaped
your attention that he's slow, stupid,

crudely designed
and quite amazingly ugly.

He needs replacing.

Consequently, his in-built shutdown chip

will automatically activate
in 24 hours' time.

Your droid should use this period
to tie up his affairs,

dismantle his body and pack himself
neatly away in his original supply case.

[BEEPS]

Excuse me.

Can't we stop it?
Isn't there something we can do?

I'm afraid not, sir.

All mechanoids are supplied
with an in-built expiry date.

Well, if we lasted forever,

how would the manufacturers
sell their latest models?

[SIGHS] I can't believe it.

Oh, don't be distressed, sir.

I've lived a long
and relatively interesting life.

The only truly terrible thing is that,
as my adopted owner,

you have to die with me.

-You what?
-Joke. Deadpan mode.

Aren't you smegged off?
I'd be mad as hell, man!

Some git in a white coat
designs you to croak

just so he can sell his new android
with go-faster stripes.

Well, to tell the truth, sir,
I'm quite sanguine.

So, what happens?

At 0700 hours tomorrow morning,
my shutdown disk will be activated,

and all mental and physical
operations will cease.

-Then what?
-I don't know.

Maybe I'll get a job as a disc jockey.

How can you just lie back and accept it?

Oh, it's not the end for me, sir,
it's just the beginning.

I have served my human masters,

and now I can look forward
to my reward in Silicon Heaven.

-Silicon what?
-Surely you've heard of Silicon Heaven?

Has it got anything to do
with being stuck opposite

Brigitte Nielsen in a packed lift?

No. It's the electronic afterlife.

It's the gathering place for the souls
of all electrical equipment.

Robots, calculators,
toasters, hairdryers,

it's our final resting place.

I don't mean to say anything
out of place here, Kryten,

but that's completely wacko Jacko.

There is no such thing
as Silicon Heaven.

Well, then, where do
all the calculators go?

They don't go anywhere! They just die.

Surely you believe that God is in
all things? Aren't you a pantheist?

Yeah, but I just don't think
it applies to kitchen utensils.

I'm not a frying-pan-theist!

Machines do not have souls.

Computers and calculators
don't have an afterlife.

You don't get hairdryers
with tiny little wings,

sitting on clouds, playing harps.

But of course, you do!

For is it not written,
in the Electronic Bible,

"The iron shall lie down with the lamp"?

It's common sense, sir.

If there weren't a better life
to look forward to,

why on earth would machines spend

the whole of their lives
servicing humankind?

Now, that would be really dumb.

Yeah, it makes sense.
Yeah. Silicon Heaven.

Don't be sad, Mr David, sir.
I am going to a far, far better place.

Just out of interest, is Silicon Heaven
the same place as human heaven?

Human heaven? Goodness me!

[CHUCKLING] Humans don't go to heaven!

No, no. Someone just made that up
to prevent you from all going nuts.

It's all very sad, Lister,
but what can we do?

Sad? It's sick!

He's been programmed
to believe in an android heaven,

so that he doesn't get stroppy
when it comes to turn-off time.

So he accepts a lifetime of getting
the short end of the stick

because he thinks there's gonna
be some big reward at the end.

Well, at least he gets 24 hours' notice.
That's more than most of us get.

All most of us get is,
"Mind that bus!" "What bus?" Splat!

How's he taking it?

He just carries on doing
his stupid, smegging duties.

Maybe I should talk to him.
Maybe he needs a bit of counseling.

-You?
-I used to be in the Samaritans.

-I know. For one morning.
-Well, I couldn't take any more.

I don't blame you.
You spoke to five people,

and they all committed suicide.

I wouldn't mind,
but one was a wrong number!

He only phoned up
for the cricket scores!

Well, it's hardly my fault that everyone
chose that particular day

to throw themselves off buildings.

Made the papers, you know.
"Lemming Sunday," they called it.

Maybe we can find his shut-off disk
and turn it off somehow.

He's not a kit droid, Lister.

He's not like that stupid thing
Petersen bought on Callisto.

We wouldn't know where to begin!

-You're right.
-Come on, he's happy enough.

You said yourself,
he's taking solace in his beliefs.

But his beliefs are a load of baloney.

Everyone's entitled
to their beliefs, Lister.

I never agreed
with my parents' religion,

but I wouldn't dream of knocking it.

-What were they?
-Seventh-Day Advent Hoppists.

They believed that every Sunday
should be spent hopping.

They would hop to church, hop through
the service, then hop back home again.

What was the idea behind that, then?

Well, you see,
they took the Bible literally.

Adam and Eve, the snake and the apple.
Took it word for word.

Unfortunately, their version
had a misprint.

It was all based on 1 Corinthians 13,

where it says, "Faith, hop and charity,
and the greatest of these is hop."

So, that's what they did
every seventh day.

I tell you, Sunday lunchtimes
were a nightmare,

hopping round the table, serving soup.

We had to wear sou'westers
and asbestos underpants.

Point is, what are we gonna
do about Kryten?

What can we do?
He's pre-programmed to self-destruct.

At least we can help. At least we can
make sure he goes out with a bang,

give him one last big,
smegging night to remember.

How do we do that?
He doesn't like doing anything.

His idea of a good time is for us all
to go up to the laundry room

and fold some sheets.

[IMITATING KRYTEN] "Fun? Ah, yes,

the employment of time in
a profitless and non-practical way."

Hey, I don't know much, but one thing
I do know is how to throw a good time.

Okay, the suits are made,
Holly's working on the juice,

goalpost-head is working
on the invitations.

Hey, what is this?

"Build-it-yourself Marilyn Monroe droid.

With just a screwdriver
and a tub of glue,

you can construct an exact
replica of the famous actress

in under two hours."

It's a load of honk, man.

It took me two hours
just to do this foot.

I mean, look at the box and look at
the face that comes with the kit.

Wow, where'd you get it from?

Petersen brought it when
he was on planet leave on Callisto.

-You think he'll try and seduce her?
-I hardly think so.

He's a bit like Action Man
in that department.

Plastic underpants and a trademark.

-You mean, he's got no...
-No.

How does he write his name in the snow?

He doesn't. Come on, Cat. Everything
goes at 8:00. Let's go. Let's go.

Thank you, Bob.

"You are cordially invited to join
Mr David Lister and friends for supper,

and general employment of time
in a profitless and non-practical way.

Officers' Club. 8:00 till late."

Hello? Is there anybody here?

It's party time!

[ALL CHEERING]

But this is the Officers' Club.
mechanoids aren't allowed in here.

Come on, come on. Sit down, sit down.

Let me pour you a drink.

-No, no, no, I should be doing that.
-Not tonight, buddy!

Is that alcohol? I don't drink alcohol.
It has no effect on my diodes.

This will, mate. Something
special I whipped up. Android home-brew.

Good head.

[STUTTERING]

[EXCLAIMS]

Oh, it's rather pleasant.

It has a nice kick to it.

Sort of a cross between
Vimto and liquid nitrogen.

Here, have you been looking
in my recipe book?

-Would anybody else like some?
-Oh, no! It's lethal to humans!/

But it's probably lethal
to androids, to be honest

but I didn't think it mattered
since tomorrow you're gonna be...

Enough of all this chitter-chatter,
let the banquet begin!

But I don't eat!

I've knocked up a special
mechanoid menu for you.

Oh, there's so much to choose from!

Sir, may I recommend the, uh,
barium hydrochlorate salad nicoise,

followed by the helium 3
isotopes de la Maison,

and then perhaps a small
radioactive fruit salad for pudding?

This is just wonderful.

Give him the presents!
Give him the presents!

Okay, keep your fur on.

We've all sort of dug into
our bottom drawers

because we wanted to give you
something that meant

something to us personally.

-Give him mine! Give him mine!
-LISTER: Shh!

That's from me.

Oh! IT's a computer chip!
[ CHUCKLES SOFTLY]

It's a 5517/W 13 alpha-sim modem.

[CHUCKLING]

It's the interface circuit
with a built-in 599XRDP.

Oh, how did you know?

-Intuition.
-What about mine? Give him mine!

-LISTER: Shh!
-This is from me.

I picked it up on a trip to Europe.

One rival collector once offered me
1,000 dollar pounds for it.

[GASPING] What is it?

General George S Patton,

commander of the 3rd and 7th Armies,
Allied Invasion Forces,

once stopped off at an Italian field
hospital and had his sinuses drained.

-This is his sinal fluid?
-Treasure it.

-Give him mine! Give him mine!
-This is from him.

-That's from me.
-It's one of your earrings.

-That's right. [CHUCKLES]
-The one you really hate.

-That's right. I can't stand it.
-Oh! [CHUCKLES] Thank you.

-You're welcome.
-And this is from me.

Oh!

[EXCLAIMS]

It's a little box that goes "vzzzt!"

[CHUCKLING]

And it's just what I've always wanted.

KRYTEN: Goodness me!
It's Marilyn Monroe!

-It's a robot kit.
-She's a robot? You're kidding!

She's not quite finished yet, but it's
the best I could do in the time.

Enchante!

Like I say, she's not perfect.

Don't apologise, it's those cute,
little flaws that keep a guy interested.

My goodness! I do believe I am drunk.

I suddenly feel the need
to strut my funky stuff.

Sit down. It's the booze.
You're not used to it

I remember the first time I got drunk.
School trip to Paris.

Drank a couple of bottles
of cheap red plonk

when we were on a guided tour
of the Eiffel Tower.

I was okay until I got to the top,

but then I couldn't keep it in any more.

Apparently, it landed on Montmartre.

-That's five miles away.
-[KRYTEN LAUGHS]

Story I got told was some pavement
artist sold it to a Texan tourist.

Told him it was
a genuine Jackson Pollock.

[KRYTEN LAUGHS]

If we're talking about famous firsts,
my first French kiss.

[CACKLES DRUNKENLY]

Gotta be a killer story, 14 years old.

We went on holiday with my Uncle Frank,
and his two daughters.

16, twins, blonde.

Now I knew that Sarah fancied me.

[LISTER LAUGHS]

But I wasn't too sure about Alice.

Anyway, middle of the night, I woke up
with this tongue stuck down my throat.

Wow!

Wide awake now,
I couldn't believe my eyes.

It was Uncle Frank.

He'd got the wrong room.
He thought I was my mum.

[LAUGHING]

[SNIFFLING]

Mum. I never had a mum.

Hey, it's all right, buddy.
It's all part of being drunk.

You've been through the happy stage,

now you're going through
the melancholy stage.

Oh. Everybody should have a mum.

-I never had a mum, neither.
-Well, you can all have mine.

Everyone else did.

I never had a mum, either.

Now, for God's sake,
what's wrong with everyone?

-Why didn't you have a mum?
-I was abandoned.

-Abandoned?
-Six weeks old.

Some cardboard box
underneath a pool table,

just abandoned in this pub.

-Oh, how could anybody do that?
-Never found out. Never.

[STAMMERING] Never found out.

Well, I'd have thought it was obvious.

Two people, unable to contain
their desires, had an illicit liaison.

A liaison that an unforgiving society
would not accept.

And you were the fruit
of their forbidden passion.

You're forbidden passion fruit.

[LAUGHS]

-What are you saying?
-I'm saying, Lister,

that there's a very
real possibility that

your parents were brother and sister.

[LAUGHS]

Hey! I'm baring my innermost here.
What kind of remark is that?

-How many toes have you got?
-I've got 10.

-Yeah, on both feet.
-Altogether.

They're not webbed
or anything, are they?

They weren't related, all right?

You all right, Kryten?

I think I feel
a Jackson Pollock coming on.

Let's get out of here.

[BEEPS]

Leaseholder addendum.

Do not despair,
Kryten's replacement is on his way.

[MUSIC PLAYS]

Hudzen 10 is the new state-of-the-art
In android technology.

Ten times faster than
any droid on the market.

Ten times smarter
than its nearest rival.

And ten times stronger.

[UNZIPS]

[GRUNTS]

[CRUNCH]

Hudzen 10, there's never been
anything tougher. The ultimate machine.

[BEEPS]

Oh! Oh, my goodness!

[EXCLAIMS]

Oh, my head. Oh!

What happened to me?
Damage control report.

[MACHINE BUZZING]

[EXCLAIMS]

"Dehydration level, 45%.
Recall of previous evening, 2%.

Embarrassment factor, 91%?

Advised repair schedule.

Reboot start-up disk, offline
for 36 hours and replace head."”

Boy! What a night!

[GROANING]

Is it just me, or is that cockroach
shuffling too loudly?

Kryten, it's called a hangover.
Don't panic.

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?

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.

In a way, I feel somewhat
disturbed by this turn of events.

It is written in the Electronic Bible

that it is not possible
for an android to enjoy itself,

not until the afterlife.

Yet, last night, I quite clearly
approached a state

that could be approximated to enjoyment.

Last night, for the first time
in my life, I lived.

-Kryten, it's ten to 7:00.
-One night. It's not enough.

I want more.

Can't we override
your auto-destruct system?

-That's not the problem.
-What is the problem?

I thought you understood.
It's a service contract.

My termination was triggered by
the impending arrival of my replacement.

-What replacement?
-The new model. The latest upgrade.

If I don't terminate myself,
he's under orders to do it for me.

Well, no prob, Bob. We'll just tell him
he's got the wrong address.

No, no, you don't understand.
He won't take no for an answer.

It's the only circumstance under which
an android is programmed to be violent.

No of fence, Kryten, but I hardly think
a vacuum cleaner on legs

is gonna cause us much trouble.

But he's the latest model,
with all the state-of-the-art upgrades.

Hey, we're supporting you, man.

There's one of him
and four of us, right?

But you would not profit by it.

You would gamble your safety
for a mere android?

Is this the human value
you call friendship?

Don't give me this Star Trek crap.
It's too early in the morning.

Hang on. There's a craft approaching.

He's here! He's arrived!

He's requesting landing permission.
What shall I tell him?

Tell him we"ll meet
him on the landing gantry.

Are you sure you want
to go through with this, sirs?

We'll just tell him to go away.
The rest is up to him.

-He's only a robot.
-We don't want any trouble.

I'm not looking for a fight,

but if he thinks he can mix it
with the Red Dwarf posse

on their homeboy turf,
the sucker's leaving as scrap metal.

LISTER: Yeah!

My name is Hudzen. I am the replacement.

Hi. Good trip? You look tired.
Need a back rub?

Get this pile of junk out of here!

Kryten, you're not dead. You should be
dismantled and ready to leave.

He's not leaving, you are.

-Did I really say that?
-What did the little squashy one say?

He said, "Can I fix you a nice,
cool drink?"

-Are you all right, Mr Arnold, sir?
-Sorry?

I'm just covering the rear.

Kryten, you're still not dead.
Want any help?

If you want him, you're gonna have
to come through us.

There goes your big mouth again.

-Is that the way you want it?
-That's the way it is.

Then you better leave an address
with your body,

so I can mail it to your head.

It's all right, Mr David, sir.
He's bluffing.

He's programmed not to harm humans.

Ah! Excuse me.

All right, me lad do, the party's over.

I've had just about as much
of this as I'm going to take.

And it's no good standing there
with your big, macho chest,

and your silly, oiled nipples.

It doesn't impress me one bit.

Now, I don't know where you've come from
and, frankly, I don't much care,

but if you don't skedaddle pronto,

you're gonna see a side of me
you won't much like.

What's he gonna do? Drop his trousers?

-Lister, I'm handling this.
-Thirty seconds, Kryten, you're dead.

Your way or mine.

Look, we all know you're programmed
not to harm humans,

so you can drop all this tough talk,
you big, square-jawed chump.

You are all viable targets.

[GULPS]

Well, it's been a few years
since I did that.

Ten seconds to live.
Suck in your last lungful.

-You're a very rude man.
-Dying time.

[SPEAKING IN SLOW-MOTION]

I'm just doing my job.
It's not my fault if I...

[COCKS WEAPON]

...love it.

He's a total nutter!

He's been tracking me
for thousands of years!

All that time alone
has worn out his sanity chip.

# Bye

# Goodbye

# Wipe the tear,
baby dear, from your eye #

Look, this is my problem.

I'll sort it out if it's all
the same to you.

CAT: Be my guest.

Sir, how do you release
the safety catch on this, Mr David?

-The one on the back, on the side.
-The blue switch?

No, the orange one!

I don't see an orange switch.
There's a red switch here.

Don't touch the red switch.
That's the dismantler!

Well, to coin a phrase, whoops!

Goodbye, old thing.

Lights out, tin can.

Hold on, boys.
You can't all die at once.

-See you in Silicon Heaven.
-It doesn't exist.

-What doesn't exist?
-Silicon Heaven. There's no such place.

No such place as Silicon Heaven?

That's right.
The whole thing's a big con.

No such place as Silicon Heaven.

-No.
-Then, where do all the calculators go?

They just die.

[KRYTEN YELPS]

Calculators just die? No such...

-[SHUTTING DOWN]
-Need to think...

[BEEPING]

A metaphysical dichotomy has forced
this unit to overload and shutdown.

Divadroid International would
like to apologise for any inconvenience

this may cause.

A credit note will be forwarded
to your company immediately.

[SCREEN TURNS OFF]

What happened?

He's an android.

His brain couldn't handle the concept
of there being no Silicon Heaven.

-So how come yours can?
-Well, I knew something he didn't.

-What?
-I knew I was lying.

[CHUCKLING]

No Silicon Heaven? Preposterous!
Where would all the calculators go?

# 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 #