High Kryten: Welcome, brothers! We bring you food and medical supplies! (Low Lister blasts him) Poor devil! His gun must have gone off accidently. Welcome, my children, we bring you balms and teachures! (Low Lister blasts him twice) We wish to sing you healing hymns! (Another two blasts, and High Kryten falls)
Lister: Is he dead?
Rimmer: We can only hope.
High Kryten: Oh, the poor wretch! It's a faulty gun; He's accidently shot me five times. Oh, how I love him!
High Cat: Brother, there is a grievious fault with thy weapon. It keepeth shooting people. (Low Lister blasts him) you see? There it goes again!