Craig Charles credited as playing...
Lister
- Rimmer: What happened to my life? Career, prospects, friends. I had everything, and I threw it all away. It's a tragedy.
- Lister: What are you on about? You had none of that stuff.
- Rimmer: 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.
- Lister: Have you figured out a way to get us out of here yet, Hol?
- Holly: I have actually, Dave. I've devoted all my runtime to looking for a loophole in the Prison Regs. And I think I've come up with something which means you can serve you entire two year sentence in just 14 weeks.
- Lister: Oh, brilliant. What have I gotta do?
- Holly: Become a dog.
- Lister: A dog?
- Holly: According to my data banks, dog years are seven times shorter than human years. As a plan, you can't fault it on its mathematics.
- Lister: No, but maybe you can fault it on the fact that I'm not a dog.
- Holly: Yeah, but according to a 20th century newspaper called The National Enquirer, the operation's quite straightforward.
- [Lister looks dumbstruck]
- Holly: A roverostomy, they called it. There's a photograph here of a bloke who had it done.
- [shows picture of a dog on the front page of a magazine]
- Lister: That's a dog.
- Holly: See how convincing it is? Even you're fooled.
- Lister: Becoming a dog. That is without doubt the most stupidest, crappiest, most pathetic idea you've thought of the whole week.
- Holly: Give me a chance. It's only Monday.
- Lister: It's only two years. But with good behaviour, it'll probably be eighteen months. Remember when you're born, and then you're eighteen months? The time just flashed past.
- Rimmer: It flashed past because you had two breasts as big as your head at your beck and call day and night. Give me that now and I wouldn't be whingeing.
- 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?
- The 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.
- Rimmer: How come you've not heard of the Canaries? They've got recruitment posters all over the men's bogs. How come you've not seen them?
- Lister: When I'm in the men's toilets in prison, Rimmer, I tend not to look around, know what I'm saying? 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!
- Rimmer: So, to summarise, six years of space adventuring; six years of physics and astro-navigation has led you to the conclusion that I'm totally stuffed.
- Kryten: Mr. Rimmer does have a point, sir. Your greater knowledge is making him pessimistic, therefore making his mind and his dough-like naïvete come up with a possible solution.
- Lister: Shut your stupid flat head, you!