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Rimmer strode imperiously into the Science Room and was somewhat put out to find it empty. How was he supposed to assert his authority - his Space Corps mandated, official First Lieutenant authority - over the air?
Actually- He reached into an invisible pocket in his sparkling white dress uniform and withdrew a notebook bound in soft butterscotch leather. Leafing through the gilt-edged pages to a blank one, he wrote under the date "Friday 17th Geldof": Daily Goal List. #1 - Instruct Kryten to look into ways of commanding the air.
As he clicked his gold and burgundy pen closed, the bio-printer made a promising noise. Crossing to it, he found to his delight that it had apparently booted itself up. Its screen helpfully proclaimed "Ready".
He pressed a button marked "Crew Database" and started scrolling through. All of these people to print and almost all ranked below him. He felt stirrings in his groin for the tenth or twelfth time since his promotion and silently ordered his libido to put a sock in it. He had official, officer business to attend to. And to be frank, his body needed a break.
His casual scanning of the crew came to an abrupt halt at an all too familiar name. What?!
He selected the name and clicked on the profile with trembling fingers. Gazing furtively around him, he jabbed wildly at the "Print" button as a tent formed rapidly in his trousers.
Rimmer cowered against the corridor wall as the - thing - homed in on him as though it could smell the terror emanating from him. How had he let himself be talked into this?
Well, "talked into" was a euphemism for "ordered" in this case. Ordered and pushed by a smegged off Lister. It had been a choice between this and taking his chances alone.
He heard the sound of bazookoids being readied as the multi-headed monstrosity drew nearer and closed his eyes. Just a few more minutes and this would be-
"Hey, Big Man!"
The voice - at once achingly familiar and not so at all - cut across the predatory growls of the Rimmer beast, which halted, its heads turning in confusion.
Two Dave Listers rounded the corner of the corridor.
The Lister behind the security gate with Cat and Kryten let out a choked sound, his confident grip on his weapon faltering as the Listers approached. One was clutching a cherry red notebook.
Seemingly oblivious to the peril of the situation, they ambled casually towards Rimmer. Both looked to be around the age Lister had been when he had first joined Red Dwarf. They were dressed accordingly in colourful cartoon T-shirts and creased beige trousers.
"It's 16.24, Duke. Didn't you want to get started on this to-do list at 16.00 hours precisely?" The young man sounded as though he was reciting a script.
Rimmer felt a flush creeping slowly up his neck. "N-not now, miladdo-"
"To-do list?" the Rimmer beast grunted, sounding something other than menacing for the first time.
The older Lister cut in quickly. "Read it to us, Dave."
The Lister holding the notebook glanced uncertainly at Rimmer, who looked imploringly at his bunkmate and quailed at the icy glare he received in return. He gave a short nod, his face now beetroot.
"Item 1 - watch as the Listers suck their thumbs provocatively."
Rimmer was too busy cringing to notice the interested gleams in the many eyes of the Rimmer monster.
"Item 2 - spank both Listers until they respect my authority."
The Rimmer monster let out an orgasmic sound. It was identical to the one Rimmer had made when Herring had promoted him for the second time, only multiplied obscenely.
Rimmer wished he could crawl into a hole. Did he really sound like that?
"Item 3 - order both Listers down on their knees and-"
A volley of bazookoid fire hit the monster, followed by several more. Cat continued firing at the creature until its writhing ceased. He got in one last shot as it gave a final twitch and was still.
"No more!" he howled. "My ears!"
"Your ears?" Lister snapped incredulously.
"As though it's not bad enough that you two keep interrupting my naps in wardrobes with your moaning and groaning!"
A long and embarrassed silence stretched out for several minutes. Lister suddenly became very interested in adjusting his lapels. Rimmer inspected his polished boots.
"Sirs," Kryten said tentatively, "what about these two ... er..."
"We last until our mission is complete," one of the young Listers offered chirpily.
"Wha'? No!" Lister levelled his bazookoid at him, but almost immediately let it drop.
Back in the Science Room, the maltreated bio-printer finally overheated and exploded.
The Listers turned to paper and crumpled just as Herring had done. The prone Rimmer creature followed suit.
Lister released the gate and stepped through with the others following. He walked up to the rapidly vanishing remains of his doppelgangers and stared.
Rimmer cleared his throat. "All's well that ends well, eh, gentlemen?"
Lister picked up the notebook from the floor with a grin. "Not quite, Technician 2.0."
The blaring sounds of the Zero-G World Cup semi-final between the London Jets and the Washington Wheelers reverberated off the wood-panelled walls of the new Officer's Club as Rimmer pushed in a trolley with various covered dishes. He winced at the sight which greeted him.
Lister was sprawled across one of the plush olive green leather sofas, his feet propped on the wooden coffee table in front of it. Popcorn was scattered across every visible surface. Next to him, Cat was meticulously filing his nails.
"Yo, that smells good. Thanks, man. Er, waiter," Lister corrected himself half-heartedly.
Rimmer lifted a lid and recoiled at the overwhelming spicy aroma. "How can you stand it?"
"Oi, shut up and serve, Big Man."
Rimmer flushed and glanced at Cat, then relaxed as he realised that the feline was sporting ear plugs. "How long are you going to keep this up?"
"Till I forgive you for acting like a complete smegger. Or I get tired of looking at you in that get-up." Lister smirked as he looked Rimmer's waiter outfit up and down.
He tapped the pocket of his leather jacket, which had a small red notebook crammed into it. "I kinda like the sound of number 17."
At Rimmer's surprised look, he added: "With a few minor adjustments..."