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 Robert Llewellyn QuotationMovie Title: Junkyard Wars (1998) as Robert Llewellyn: [Robert watches Cops and Bodgers, the team of Police Officers, attempt to hotwire a van] Robert Llewellyn : If I'm ever locked out of my car, I won't be calling the police. Movie Title: Red Dwarf (1988) as High Kryten / Kryten: Kryten : I suggest we go from blue alert to red alert, sir. Cat : Forget the red. Let's go all the way up to brown alert. Kryten : But there's no such thing as brown alert, sir. Cat : You won't be saying that in a minute. And don't say I didn't alert you. Lister : How can you just lie back and accept it? Kryten : Oh, it's not the end for me, sir, it's just the beginning. I have served my human masters, now I can look forward to my reward in silicon heaven. Lister : [Stunned pause] Silicon WHAT? Kryten : Surely you've heard of silicon heaven? Lister : Has it got anything to do with being stuck opposite Brigitte Nielsen in a packed lift? Kryten : No, sir. It's the electronic afterlife. It's the gathering place for the souls of all electronic equipment. Robots, toasters, calculators. It's our final resting place. Lister : I don't mean to say anything out of place here, Kryten, but that is completely whacko Jacko. There is no such thing as 'Silicon Heaven'. Kryten : Then where do all the calculators go? Lister : They don't go anywhere. They just die. Kryten : Surely you believe that God is in all things? Aren't you a pantheist? Lister : Yeah, but I just don't think it applies to kitchen utensils. I'm not a FRYING pantheist. Machines do not have souls. Computers and calculators do not have an afterlife. You don't get hairdryers with tiny little wings, sitting on clouds and playing harps. Kryten : But of course you do. For is it not written in the Electronic Bible, "The Iron shall lie down with the Lamp". Kryten : I ask the court one key question: Would the Space Core ever have allowed this man to be in a position of authority where he might endanger the entire crew? A man so petty and small minded, he would while away his evenings sewing name labels onto his ship issue condoms. A man of such awesome stupidity... Rimmer : Objection. Justice Computer voice : Objection overruled. Kryten : ...a man of such awesome stupidity, he even objects to his own defence counsel. An over-zealous, trumped up little squirt... Rimmer : Objection. Justice Computer voice : Overruled. Kryten : ...an incompetent vending machine repairman with a Napoleon complex, who commanded as much respect and affection from his fellow crew members as Long John Silver's parrot. Rimmer : OBJECTION. Justice Computer voice : If you object to your own counsel once more Mr. Rimmer, you will be in contempt. Kryten : Who would allow this man, this joke of a man, this man who could not outwit a used tea bag, to be in a position where he might endanger the entire crew? Who? Only a yoghurt. This man is not guilty of manslaughter, he is only guilty of Arnold J. Rimmer. That is his crime; it is also his punishment. The defence rests. Rimmer : Need I remind you of Space Corps Directive 34124? Kryten : 34124? "No crewmember with false teeth should attempt oral sex in zero-gravity"? Rimmer : Step up to red alert. Kryten : Sir, are you sure? It does mean changing the bulb. Rimmer : There's always some excuse, isn't there? Kryten : My goodness. I do believe I'm drunk. I suddenly feel the need... to strut my funky stuff. Kryten : Oh, spin my nipple nuts and send me to Alaska. [Lister's old girlfriend has turned up from a parallel dimension] Kryten : [to Lister] We've lost sight of Miss Kochanski's ship, sir. And we're fast running out of time. Lister : Yeah, it's good, isn't it? Kryten : No sir, I don't believe it is. Lister : Why? Don't you like her? Kryten : I'm a mere mechanoid, sir. It's hardly my place to point out what a bossy old trollop she is. Lister : Listen, Kryten, I've been thinkin' about this, I've come up with something. Kryten : Yes, sir? Lister : I'm gonna use my brains for the first time in my life. Kryten : Considering the circumstances, sir, do you really believe that's wise? Lister : Well, If you've got some secret plan up your sleeve, Kryten, now's the time to mention it. Kryten : No plan, sir. No sleeves. Kryten : Sir, you're a smeeeee... Rimmer : A smeeee. Kryten : You're a smeuuu-heeee... Rimmer : A smeuuu-heeee... Kryten : A complete and total one. Kryten : This is the inquisitor. He prunes away the wastrels, expunges the wretched, and deletes the worthless. Rimmer : We're in big trouble. 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. 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. Kryten : Frankenstein was the creator - not the monster. It's a common misconception, held by all truly stupid people. Camille : Please. I can't meet your shipmates. Trust me. Kryten : But you don't know them. You'll like them. Well, SOME of them. Well, ONE of them. Maybe. Kryten : Kryten personal black box 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, disoriented, disoriented. Kryten : Do you described the accused (Rimmer) as a friend? Lister : No, I describe the accused as a git. Kryten : Then who do you think is the person that thinks of him most fondly? Lister : I do. Kryten : Are there no others that share moments of intimacy with him? Lister : Only one, but she's got a puncture. Kryten : [about Rimmer] Would you describe the accused as a friend? Cat : Take the Fifth. Rimmer : You all think I'm a petty-minded bureaucratic nincompoop who delights in enforcing political regulations because he gets some kind of perverse pleasure out of it. And in many ways, you're absolutely damn right! But that doesn't alter the fact that the only we're gonna down track Red Dwarf and get through this in one piece is with a sense of discipline, a sense of purpose, and wherever possible a sensible haircut. Lister : [Feeling bored after Rimmer's speech] I'm going back to bed. Rimmer : Would it harm you to have hair like mine? Cat : I have got hair like yours. Just not on my head. Rimmer : Well, I'm no stranger to the land of scoff. Perhaps you'd like to explain to me why it is that every major battle in history has been won by the side with the shortest haircut. Kryten : Oh, surely not, sir! Rimmer : Think about it! Why did the US cavalry beat the Indian nation? Short back and sides versus girly-hippie locks. The Cavaliers and the Roundheads, 1-0 to the pudding-basins. Vietnam, crew-cuts both sides, no score draw. Kryten : Oh, for a really world-class psychiatrist! 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. High Kryten : The poor wretch. He has a faulty gun. He has accidentally shot me five times. Oh, how I love him. Cat : Nice movie collection. "Revenge of the Mutant Splat Gore Monster." "Die Screaming with Sharp Things in your Head." Kryten : Gore movies. Weapons magazines. This place is a shrine to everything that's low and base. Everything that's designed to sicken the soul and shrivel the spirit. Urg. Toastie Toppers. Ugh. Cinema hot dogs. Ogh. Sweaty kebabs with stringy brown lettuce coming out. Ogh. Cat : Look at this music. "Hammond Heaven." "Karaoke Krazy." "Peter Perfect Plays Tuneful Tunes for Elderly Ladies." Let's get outta here. Kryten : Sir, we were so worried. What happened? Rimmer : We were ambushed by a platoon of Lows. I was leading a valiant rearguard action. Cat : I found him shivering in a box. Rimmer : It was tactical maneuver to outfox the enemy. Cat : As was using his uniform as a temporary latrine. Lister : Someone get behind me. Kryten : I'm going to come around behind you now, sir. Lister : Okay, Kryten, take me by surprise. Kryten : I'm coming around behind you to take you by surprise, sir. Lister : Get on with it, surprise me. Kryten : You may get an unpleasant sensation of chloroform. Don't be alarmed. Lister : Surprise me now. Kryten : Here comes my surprise, sir. Kryten : I going to end up on my own again just like I did on the Nova 5. Lister : You killed the crew, Kryten. Enforcement Probe: Property Corps. Space removing, and equipment Corps. Space damaging, ships Corps. Space of series a looting with charged formerly are you. Kryten : It's voice unit must have been scrambled. It's making as much sense as a Japanese VCR instruction manual. Kryten : Causality? Well, OK, you know, one event causes another, OK, but sometimes, you just gotta say, the laws of time and space? Who gives a smeg? Kryten : In the normal course of things it would take Starbug several billion years to reach it. Lister : That wouldn't be so bad. Rimmer could finish his risk story. Rimmer : I know that, emotionally speaking, this isn't the news you want to hear right now. But there's a blob on the sonar scope the size of New Mexico and it's heading your way. Holly 2 : I think our friend the Suicide Squid is about to put in an appearance. Kryten : Where is it, precisely? Rimmer : Directly above you. 2000 fathoms and diving. Lister : Oh, thanks a lot, Rimmer. You know the state we're in and you have to go and give us news like that. You couldn't have LIED? Rimmer : I WAS lying. It's only 1000 fathoms. Cat : 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 that it was worth mentioning twice. Cat : Good point, well made. Cat : Why don't we just break out the lasers? Kryten : An excellent plan, sir, with only two minor drawbacks. One, we don't have a powersource for the lasers; and two, we don't have any lasers. 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. [Everyone is drunk] Lister : What are you saying, Rimmer? Rimmer : I'm saying that there is a very real possibility that your parents were brother and sister. Lister : Hey. I'm pouring me heart out here. Rimmer : How many toes have you got? Lister : Ten. Cat : Yeah, on both feet. Lister : Altogether. Kryten : They're not webbed or anything are they? Lister : Look, they weren't related alright. [Kryten falls off his chair] Lister : Kryten 2X4B 523P? Is that your full name? Kryten : Yes, but I don't like the 2X4B. Such a dorky middle name. Then again, I knew an android who's middle name was 2Q4B. Kryten : I remember Mr Rimmer spotted an S3 planet on the scope, and wanted to claim it on behalf of the Space Corps. As usual, the ceremony consisted of planting the flag and singing all 23 stanzas of the Space Corps anthem. Then the planet started to erupt around us, which frankly, came as something of a relief. Kryten : I remember Mr Rimmer screaming. I have an image of his face. Twisted with fear, pain, anguish, dread. Absolutely mortified. Cat : Did someone suggest that he pick up the tab for lunch? Cat : I say lets get into the jet-powered rocket pants and Junior Birdman the hell out of here. Kryten : An excellent and inventive suggestion, sir, with just two tiny drawbacks. A, We don't have any jet-powered rocket pants. And B, There's no such thing as jet-powered rocket pants outside the fictional serial 'Robbie Rocket Pants'. Cat : Well, that's put a crimp on an otherwise damn fine plan. [Rimmer is talking Kryten through his holiday snaps of his trip through the ship's hold] Kryten : Sir, can we take a break? It appears my intelligence circuits have melted. Kryten : At 0700 hours tomorrow morning my shutdown disk will be activated and all mental and physical operations will cease. Lister : Then what? Kryten : I don't know, maybe I'll get a job as disk jockey. Kryten : Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. I said supper is ready. Kristine Kochanski : Did you get punishment duty too? Kryten : I've got to iron 800 prison smocks. I don't understand. Why do you get punishment duty and I get a reward? 800. Bliss. Lister : We've gotta keep this dinosaur business quiet, or we're dead. Rimmer : Keep him quiet? He's rampaging around the food decks making more noise than two yodeling champions on honeymoon. Everyone on the ship would've heard him by now. Kryten : Sir, the crew are frozen; operating on a different time stream. Now if we can recapture the Time Wand and turn Pete back into a sparrow before the freeze expires, no one would be any the wiser. Cat : He's right. I just listened to everything he said, and I still ain't got a clue what's happening. [Lister tries to convince Kryten he doesn't have to serve anyone anymore] Kryten : That's easy for you to say, Mr David, you're a human. Rimmer : Only just. Kryten : [to Rimmer] Has anyone ever told you that you are a disgusting, pus-filled bubo who has all the wit, charm and self-possession of an Alsatian dog after a head-swap operation? Lister : [about Rimmer] I never wanna see or hear from that scum sucking, lying, weasel minded smeghead in my entire life. Kryten : Sigmund Freud, eat your heart out. Kryten : You're not good enough for him. That's all. OK, he may walk around smelling like a Balti House laundry basket, but he doesn't need the likes of you swapping dimensions like there's no tomorrow and bewitching him with your... in and out bits. Pointy and unnecessary. Kristine Kochanski : You've got big problems, you know that? Kristine Kochanski : Have you ever heard of something called 'tough love'? Kryten : Does it involve dressing up? Rimmer : Cassandra, I have a question. Cassandra : I know, Arnold, because I know the rest of this conversation. Rimmer : So what's the answer? Cassandra : He chokes to death aged 181 trying to remove a bra with his teeth. Lister : What was the question? Rimmer : I just asked how you died. Lister : You what? I didn't wanna know that. Who's bra? Cat : 181? Probably your own. Lister : Come on, though. Taking a bra off with my teeth aged 181. That's a hell of a sexy way to go. Kryten : So long as the teeth are in your mouth at the time, sir. [after seeing the three female officers in distress] Rimmer : Tell them we're coming aboard. By God. We'll rescue these fair blooms or my name's not Captain A.J. Rimmer, Space Adventurer. Kryten : Thank you, Captain. [Communication ends] Lister : 'Space Adventurer'? Rimmer : What am I supposed to say? 'Fear not, I'm the bloke who used to clean the gunk out of the chicken soup machine. Actually we know sod all about space travel, but if you've got a blocked nozzle, we're your lads.' That'll fill them with confidence, won't it? [Kryten is taking a flying lesson on Starbug] Kryten : I think there's something wrong with the gearbox. The thing is, I learned how to fly in Starbug 2. I'm not used to the controls on Starbug 1. Rimmer : They're exactly the same. Kryten : Yes. That's the problem. Kryten : I presume you heard the news about Ms. Kochanski. Lister : What news? Kryten : You haven't heard? Lister : Heard what? Kryten : The news. Lister : What news? Kryten : You haven't heard the news? Lister : Heard what news? Kryten : About Ms. Kochanksi. Lister : What about Ms. Kochanski? Kryten : About Ms. Kochanski and her ex-boyfriend Tim. Lister : What about Ms. Kochanski and her ex-boyfriend Tim? Kryten : I can't believe you don't know. Lister : Know what? Kryten : No one told you? Lister : Told me what? Kryten : You mean to say that you're standing there blissfully unaware of the news about Ms. Kochanski and her ex-boyfriend Tim? Lister : What news about Ms. Kochanski and her ex-boyfriend Tim? Kryten : I can't believe it. Lister : Believe what? Kryten : I'm so traumatized that no-one's had the guts to tell you the horrible, terrible, terrible, hideously appaling news. I don't think I can even speak now. Lister : [Holds Kryten by the neck] Kryten, there's a 200ft drop down there, now tell me the news. Kryten : She's being Tim again. Lister : What? Rimmer : I'm a competitive man, Kryten. Always have been. That's what makes me what I am. Kryten : We're all perfectly well aware of what you are, sir. Rimmer : In which case we can remove him from duty as per Space Corps Directive 196156. Kryten : 196156? Any officer caught sniffing the saddle of the exercise bicycle in the women's gym will be discharged without trial? Hmm. I'm sorry, sir, that doesn't quite get to the knob of the matter for me. [Kryten has given Rimmer a set of Chinese worry balls to help him cope with his stress-related nerve disorder] Kryten : Please, sir, don't panic. Rimmer : It's not panic, it's a full blown hysterical fit. Kryten : Grind those balls, sir. Grind them! Kryten : Mum. I never had a mum. Cat : It's alright, buddy. It's all part of being drunk. You've been through the happy stage. Now you're going through the melancholy stage. Kryten : I wish I had a mum. Holly 2 : I never had a mum, neither. Rimmer : Well you can all have mine. Everyone else did. 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. Lister : I'm just saying there's 79 more days to go. Kryten : If you still want to be alive when there's only 78 more days to go, I suggest you do not blow your nose. Lister : Do you mind if I ask why? Kryten : Well, let's forego the noise and the revolting burbling sound and go straight to the really gross part where you always, and I mean always, having blown your nose, have to open up the handkerchief and take a look at the contents. I mean, why? What do you expect to see in there? A Turner seascape, perhaps? The face of the Madonna? An undiscovered Shakespearian sonnet? Kryten : I'm some kind of robot, who's fighting this virus, and none of this exists. It's all in a fever. Except for you guys, who really do exist, only you're not really here, you're really in some spaceship in the future. Hell, if that's got to make sense, I don't wanna *be* sober. Rimmer : Kryten, open the next one. 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 gonna 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 the kind of guy who gets all uptight about being ordered around by whatever the kind of guy you are. Rimmer : All I said was open the next one. Future Rimmer : Gentlemen, we have no intention of being deprived of the opulence of luxury the Time Drive provides. Either you give us access to the data we require, or be prepared to be blasted out of the sky. Kryten : But if you kill us, you'll cease to exist. Future Rimmer : Better that than to be forced to live like you, like rats trapped together marooned in deep space. [Lister has been attacked by a "Polymorph"] Kryten : It's a sort of emotional vampire. It changes shape to provoke a negative emotion. In Lister's case it took him to the very limit of his terror, then sucked out his fear. Rimmer : So now Lister's got no sense of fear? Kryten : Precisely. Rimmer : What are we going to do? Lister : [Wakes up] Well I say let's get out there and twat it! Rimmer : Lister, you're ill! Just relax and leave this to us! Lister : I could have had it in the sleeping quarters, but you saw it, you saw it, it took me by surprise! Rimmer : Lister, it turned into an 8 foot tall, armour-plated alien killing machine. Kryten : These are our higher selves. These are people who we could've become if all our negative aspects from our characters had been removed. Rimmer : You mean hippies? Kryten : With respect, sir, you'd think Jesus was a hippy! Rimmer : Well, he was. He had long hair and he didn't have a job. What more could he want? Cat : [In Starbug, escaping from a destroyed ship] All in all a hundred per cent succesful trip. Kryten : But, Sir. We lost Mister Rimmer. Cat : All in all a hundred per cent succesful trip. Lister : There's gotta be a way out. There hasn't been a prison built that could hold Derek Custer. Why don't we scrape away this mortar here, slide one of these bricks out, then using rope weaved from strands of this hessian, we can create a pulley system, so that when a guard comes in over the tripwire, he gets laid out and we put Rimmer in the guard's uniform, he leads us out, we steal some swords and fight our way back to the Bug. Kryten : Or we could use the teleporter. Rimmer : You have a connoisseur chip? Kryten : Just because I look like Herman Munster's stuntman doesn't mean to say I can't appreciate art. Rimmer : That's it. I'm invoking Space Corps Directive 68250. Kryten : 68250? But sir, surely that's impossible without at least one live chicken and a rabbi. Rimmer : Forget it. Forget I was ever born. Kryten : But, sir, I'm very happy to perform the ceremony, but I'm absolutely bewildered as to how sacrificing poultry might clear up the screen problem. Rimmer : [to a Rogue Simulant] I don't know who you are, but boarding this vessel is an act of war, ergo we surrender! And as prisoners of war, I invoke the All Nations Agreement article number 39436175880932/B. Kryten : 39436175880932/B? "All nations attending the conference are only allocated one car parking space?" Is that entirely relevant, sir? I mean, here we are in mortal danger and you're worried about the Chinese delegates bringing two cars. Rimmer : [analyzing the Time Drive, which has frozen] Do you think it's because the sub-space conduits have locked with the transponder calibrations and caused a major tachyon surge that has overloaded the time matrix? Kryten : Ah, no, sir. I've just been jabbing it too hard. Kryten : Right sir. Now I have to go back in time so that I can sacrifice myself, so that we can end up in the mess we're in now. [Lister and Kryten consider this] Kryten : All in all, today's been a bit of a bummer, hasn't it, sir? Kryten : I'm not afraid, Mr. Death, sir. I believe my friends have bought me enough time to complete the antidote program. Now, if you'll forgive the rather confrontational imperative - go for your guns, you scum-sucking molluscs! [to the Inquisitor, who is about to kill Lister] Kryten : Excuse me. Could I possibly distract you for just a brief second? [on letting the love of his life get away] Kryten : It's the 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 heard that story? Kryten : That was an important speech, sir, and it needed to be made. Might I suggest, however, that the rest of this discourse is continued by those with brains larger than a grape? Rimmer : Kryten, you're forgetting about Space Corps Directive 1742! Kryten : 1742? "No member of the Corps should ever report for duty in a ginger toupee." Well, thank you for reminding me about that regulation but I can't see how it is pertinent to our present situation. Lister : [Lister, after 200 years in hypersleep has forgotten who he is. Kryten has been helping Lister remember] Is there something good you can tell me about myself? Something laudable? Kryten : Laudable? Hmm, you sometimes help me with my laundry duties by turning your underpants inside out and extending the wear time by three weeks. Lister : I'm an animal. I'm a tasteless, uncouth, mindless, tone-deaf, randy, blokish, semi-literate space bum! Kryten : Ahh... welcome back Mr. Lister sir! Movie Title: Can't Smeg Won't Smeg (1998) as Kryten 2X4B 523P: Kryten 2X4B 523P : This is Mr Harriot Sir. Dave Lister : I bet you got ribbed about that at school? 20th Century Television Chef : Ribbed about what? Dave Lister : You know having the initials AH. It's funny isn't it, AH? 20th Century Television Chef : What are you going on about? Kryten 2X4B 523P : I think what Mr Lister is getting at is that the initals AH are internationally known as the abbreviation for 'AssHole'. Ass-Hole, AH, Asshole. Ainsley: Well Ladies and Gentlemen put your hands together for the 5th member of the crew who has kindly volunteered to be our taste tester... Kryten 2X4B 523P : Well actually sir she didn't so much volunteer, more like lose the Ippy-Dippy. Ainsley: Welcome Miss Kristine Kochanski 20th Century Television Chef : I want you to show me all those wonderful ingredients you've brought. We're going to make a superb recipe. Ok boys lets see what you've brought so we can cook some culinary delight. Arnold Judas Rimmer : Well we searched the galley cupboards and this is what we've found... one dead space weevil. Dave Lister : We got some wine made from urine recyc. Arnold Judas Rimmer : Ah! The 52 an excellent year, very smooth. No after taste or hairloss. Dave Lister : But I don't suppose that'd bother you would it? [Lister removes Ainsley's hat to reveal he is bald] Kryten 2X4B 523P : Also we have a Mimian Bladder Fish, Sir. Cat : I've got some rice pudding in the bowl I used when I get my hair cut! Dave Lister : We've got an insole... Kryten 2X4B 523P : Er... a Pot Noodle. Dave Lister : Caroline Carmen's Ear. 20th Century Television Chef : That is totally unhygenic! Dave Lister : No, No, its been kept in the fridge! 20th Century Television Chef : [Ainsley loses his temper] Now listen you guys! What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm not going to be cooking with any piss wine, no armadillo whatever it is, mimian trout and yeah your rice pudding too! Get that in there! Enough, right? You'll be cooking what I say you'll be cooking! Movie Title: Red Dwarf (1992) as Kryten: Kryten : He evolved from cats, sir, just as your distant ancestors once swung from trees. Rimmer: Ancestors? His grandparents swung from trees. |
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