“Justice”
In this episode: Kryten (6), Arnold Rimmer (4), Dave Lister (4), The Cat (4), Holly (3)
[Lister looks at the stasis pod, while suffering from Space Mumps]
So who is she, Holly?
Says on the pod, Barbara Bellini
Barbara Bellini, what a beautiful name. There's no justice, how can this happen to me? Maybe I can wear a turban and pretend I'm from India.
Maybe you can stick a spike in your head and pretend you're the Taj Mahal!
With respect, sir, they're not androids, they're simulants.
What's the difference?
Well, the basic difference is that an android would never rip off a human's head and spit down his neck.
There must be some way of findin' out. [if the pod contains Barbara Bellini or a rogue simulant]
There is. (pause) All you've gotta do is hang around here for 24 hours. Then, if you find your limbs scattered across deep space and your neck full of saliva, you can take it as read it probably wasn't Babs.
[Lister takes the witness stand]
Name?
Dave Lister.
Occupation?
[looks bewildered for a moment, then answers] Uh, bum.
Sir, would you describe the accused [Rimmer] as a friend?
Take the Fifth!
Sir, please answer the question. Remember you are under polygraphic surveillance: Would you describe the accused as a friend?
No, I'd describe the accused as a git.
And who would you say feels most fondly for him?
Well, I do.
And there are no others who have shared intimate moments with him?
Only one, but she's got a puncture!
Objection!
Overruled.
I ask the court one key question: would the Space Corps have allowed this man [points at Rimmer] ever to be in a position where he might endanger the ship? A man so petty and small-minded he would while away his evenings sewing name labels on to his ship-issue condoms? A man of such awesome stupidity --
Objection!
Objection overruled.
A man of such awesome stupidity, he even objects to his own defense counsel. What an overzealous trumped up little squirt!
Who allowed this man, this pathetic man, this man who could not outwit a used teabag, to be in a position where he might endanger the entire crew? Who? Only a yogurt!
So, if it's not Bellini in there, who is it?
One of the prisoners. And considering the ship was transporting forty psychotic, half-crazed, mass-murdering, super-strong androids, we thought it prudent to find out who the smeg was in there before we woke them up.
With respect, sir, they're not androids. They're simulants.
What's the difference?
Well, the basic difference is that an android would never rip off a human's head and spit down his neck.
Can we stop it, Hol?
What? Oh. No. One-way process.
Can't we X-ray the pod?
No. Lead lining. That's to survive in space, innit?
There must be some way of finding out.
Well, there is. All you 'ave to do is 'ang around 'ere for 24 hours. Then, if you find your limbs scattered across deep space and your neck full of saliva, you can take it as read it probably wasn't Babs.
[After sitting through 3 hours of a slideshow of Rimmer's holiday on the diesel decks]
Oh, sir, can we take a break for a while? It appears my intelligence circuits have melted.
Kryten, we're not going to get through them all if we take a second break.
Sir, that's a gamble I'm willing to take!
Cat (spattered with vile yellow gunk): I don't wanna live! Someone, please...shoot me in the head!
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