- Rimmer: [talking about Kryton's final 24 hours] At least he gets 24 hours notice. All the notice most of us get is "Mind that bus. What bus? Splat!"
- Lister: [Kryten has been informed that he is about to reach his expiry date and will be shut down] 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 and now I can look forward to my reward in Silicon Heaven.
- Lister: 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. It's the electronic afterlife. It's the gathering place for the souls of all electronic equipment. Robots, calculators, toasters, hairdryers. 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: But 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, 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"? Oh, 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.
- Lister: Yeah, it makes sense. Silicon Heaven.
- Kryten: Don't be sad, Mr. David, sir. I am going to a far, far better place.
- Lister: Just out of interest, is Silicon Heaven the same place as human heaven?
- Kryten: Human heaven? Goodness me! Humans don't go to heaven. Oh no, someone just made that up to prevent you from all going nuts.
- Kryten: [waking up after a night of partying] Oh, my goodness... Oh... my head. Oh, what happened to me? Damage control report. Oh! Dehydration level, 45%. Recall of previous evening, 2%. Embarrassment factor, 91%! Advised repair schedule; reboot startup disc, offline for 36 hours and replace head. Boy! What a night!
- [others groan and start to wake]
- Kryten: Is it just me, or is that cockroach shuffling too loudly?
- Rimmer: Kryten, it's called a hangover, don't panic.
- Lister: 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?
- The Cat: Hey! It's not a good night unless you get a traffic cone! It's the police woman's helmet and the suspenders I don't understand!
- Lister: No offense, Rimmer, but that is completely wacko-jacko.
- Rimmer: Everyone's entitled to their beliefs, Lister. I never agreed with my parents' religion, but I wouldn't dream of knocking it.
- Lister: What were they?
- Rimmer: Seventh Day Advent Hop-ists. They believed that every Sunday should be spent hopping. They would hop to church, hop through the service, then hop back home again. I tell you, Sunday lunchtimes were a nightmare - we all had to wear sou'westers and asbestos underpants. 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: "Faith, Hop and Charity, and the greatest of these is Hop."
- [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.
- The Cat: Yeah, on both feet.
- Lister: Altogether.
- Kryten: They're not webbed or anything are they?
- Lister: Look, they weren't related, all right?
- [Kryten falls off his chair]
- [the crew are throwing a farewell party for Kryten]
- Rimmer: Enough of all this chitter-chatter, let the banquet begin!
- Kryten: But I don't eat.
- Holly: I've knocked up a special mechanoid menu for you.
- [Rimmer hands Kryton a menu]
- Kryten: There's so much to choose from!
- Rimmer: Sir, may I recommend the Barium Hydrochloride Salad Nicoise followed by the Helium-3 Isotopes de la Maison, and then perhaps a small Radioactive Fruit Salad for pudding.
- Kryten: [Reflecting on the previous night's farewell party] In a way I feel somewhat disturbed by these turn of events. It is written in the Electronic Bible that it is not possible for a mechanoid to enjoy itself, not until the afterlife. Yet, last night I reached a state that could be approximated to enjoyment. Last night, for the first time in my life, I lived.
- Lister: The point is what are we going to do about Kryten?
- Rimmer: What can we do? He's pre-preprogrammed to self-destruct.
- Lister: We can make sure he goes out with a bang, give him one last big smegging night to remember!
- Rimmer: 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.
- [Impersonating Kryten]
- Rimmer: "Fun? Ah, yes, the employment of time in a profitless and non-practical way."
- Lister: Hey, I don't know much. But what I do know is how to throw a good time.