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"Y'know Lister, sometimes I like you more than a little bit."
"Oh yeah?" The man in question looked up, bemused, and more than mildly tipsy. Rimmer however, had long passed tipsy, despite only having one glass. To say Lister wasn't surprised in the slightest, would have been a grave understatement. Was being a complete lightweight part of hologram technology? Perhaps. But Lister doubted the guy had ever been any different. What he was surprised at though, was Rimmer still retaining the ability to form complete sentences.
"Hm," Rimmer rubbed at his eyes, leaning back in the chair, half-fallen off. "usually when you do something...Listery."
Lister snorted. "Sounds like mouthwash."
"No, no, you're purposely mis-" He burped loudly, leaning forwards onto the table. "-misunderstanding me. I'm talking about the things you think I find annoying,"
"-But don't actually?"
"-Stop interrupting!! No, they're definitely still annoying. But not quite as annoying as I make out."
"Your sure you haven't taken anything?"
"Not recently…no."
"Malfunctionin' then?"
"No! Just being my normal, friendly self, Listy. Now shut up and let me speak."
"Sure. Go on then man, tell me more." Lister probed, eyebrow raised, and pouring himself another glass. This was turning out to be somewhat of a golden opportunity, and he for one could really do with some entertainment.
Not entirely convinced of Lister's 'active listening' smeg, Rimmer scowled; though it could have been more to do with remembering the 'Listery moments'.
"Like you and your smegging guitar. How it sounds worse than fish-breath's screeching but it's like some demonic version of those music relaxation recordings."
"Wait, ya really think so?" Lister grinned proudly. "See I knew you'd grow to like it one day!"
"Oh, I never said I liked it, Listy. Just that some part of my subconscious finds it vaguely... vaguely tolerable."
"Maybe I'll get Kryters to record me playing one day, y'know, an' turn it into an actual relaxation thingy."
"Don't you dare, miladdio, his spare head exploded last time you strummed that E chord. If his current one suffers the same fate then say goodbye to your home-made curries for a while." He slurred, smirking lazily.
Taking a swig of glass number four, the Scouser rolled his eyes. "Alright. But just know, Rimsy, that the idea's there. An' with all goin' to plan I'll get Hol to play it for you next time you're doing that Astro-Nav revision. Bet you'll find it a really relaxing experience then."
"And I'll bet that guitar will find a new home. Out the nearest airlock. Now smeg off, I'm going to be sick."
"Brutal."