- Kochanski: I'm not sure I can do this. This is the first time I've been seduced by pre-determinism theory.
- Rimmer: The Canaries. You know what they say it's supposed to stand for? Convict Army-Nearly All Retarded Inbred Evil Sheepshaggers. They haven't got an X-chromosome to share between them.
- Kryten: I have a theory, everyone. The Silverburg 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 in a lunar sea in the depths of deep space.
- The Cat: That's brilliant, bud! How did you work that out?
- Kryten: I read it on this mission directive here.
- Kryten: [to Rimmer] Harness your stupidity, sir! Employ your witlessness! Use your empty-headed, simplistic moron mind and find a solution!
- Rimmer: We, um, should be making tracks.
- Cassandra: I'm afraid that's not going to happen. The bulkhead's just given way and we're shipping water at a thousand gallons a second. All of the canaries will be dead within one hour except for Rimmer...
- Rimmer: [ecstatic] *Yes*!
- Cassandra: ...who will be dead in twenty minutes.
- 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.
- Kochanski: [in shock after finding out Rimmer is going to sleep with her] I can't believe what you're telling me!
- Rimmer: [happily] I can scarcely believe it myself! I mean, obviously, you're incredibly attractive. I never thought you'd look at me twice!
- Kochanski: [still in shock] Neither did I!
- Rimmer: But apparently, we're gonna make love! Unbe-smegging-lievable or what?
- Rimmer: [to Lister] So, you're saying the future's the future and, like your underpants, the chances of change are remote. Well, I'm sorry. I don't accept it.
- 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!
- Rimmer: So what happens now? How...
- [sighs]
- Rimmer: how do I die?
- Cassandra: Lister catches you making love to Kochanski and shoots you through the head with a harpoon gun.
- Rimmer: [Slowly becomes stunned] Can you just double-check that?
- Cassandra: I've seen it. It's what happens in the old laundry room.
- Rimmer: So let me 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, when Lister, that's the short dumpy one with the stupid haircut, walks in and shoots me through the head while I'm making love to Kochanski.
- Cassandra: That is what's going to happen.
- Rimmer: FANTASTIC.