- The Cat: [looks through "Futurescope"] Man, this is tragic. This is the saddest thing I've seen in my life.
- [takes eyes off the 'scope]
- The Cat: What happened to my butt? Buddy, you can park a plane in that crease.
- Lister: So what? You're bald and you're fat. That's what happens when you get older. Look at me; just a brain in a jar.
- The Cat: Self, self, self, self, self.
- Rimmer: Have we got any chance of winning?
- Kryten: Their craft is greatly upgraded. We have no chance whatsoever.
- Rimmer: Then I say fight!
- Kryten: Mr Rimmer?
- Rimmer: Better dead than smeg!
- Lister: Yes! Cat?
- The Cat: Better anything than sofa-sized butt!
- Lister: Kryten?
- Kryten: Better anything than that toupee!
- Rimmer: Do you know what it is about Lister that makes me want to puke? That makes me want to jab his eyes with an ice-pick? Everything, that's what! Especially his simple-minded, gerbil-faced optimism! And the Cat; what an unbelievable git! And Kryten; if he doesn't change pronto, I swear I'm going to attach jump leads to his nipple nuts and fry him like cajun catfish!
- Rimmer: What exactly was the point of that little exercise? Fun though it was, drinking in the heady medieval atmosphere of pre-Renaissance deep space, the time-drive is next to useless, yes?
- Kryten: [the original ending - The Starbug crew are celebrating their victory of the battle with their future selves] Chilled margaritas, sir! We have much to celebrate.
- [Kryten pours the margaritas into their glasses]
- Kryten: Mr. Rimmer destroyed the time drive. Deleted our future selves and saved us all.
- Rimmer: Please, Kryten. It's something I'm not proud of.
- Kryten: Further more. We've relocated Red Dwarf's vapor trail and we're barely 6 days behind. May I take this liberty in purposing a toast.
- [the Starbug crew raise their glasses]
- Kryten: To the present!
- Lister: To the Present!
- [the Starbug crew drink their margaritas. Lister spits his out. He has a foam mustache]
- Lister: They aren't margaritas. That's urine recyc!
- [Kryten looks sheepish. Rimmer, Lister, Cat and Kryten all have foam mustaches]
- 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.
- Future Cat: Shootin' us'd be like killing himself in the future. He won't do it.
- Lister: What have I got to lose, me jar?