1. Does anyone want any toast?
Dave Lister looked through the kitchen cupboards for a vindaloo. "Hol?" he shouted, "Where's the food? I mean, vindaloo?"
"It's gone," she replied.
"Since when?"
"Since it was deemed inedible."
"It was inedible before, Holly, you know that." Rimmer entered the room, with a smirk on his face. Lister's face turned purple.
"You did it, didn't you Rimmer?" he snarled.
"Did what Listy? Holly, what's he dribbling about?" Rimmer asked.
"You chucked my vindaloo out into space! You arsehole, smeg-for-brained complete and total GIT!!" He plunged for Rimmer, went straight through him and crashed to the floor.
"Ahh, the one advantage of being a hologram," Rimmer smiled, "No one can ever hurt you."
"I'm gonna get yeh one of these days Rimmer," Lister threatened, "When those smeggin aliens come and give yeh a new body, I'm gonna smash that body into bits."
"Ahh, but the teensy weensy problem in that plan, Listy, is that my new body will be indestructible! One of the perks of being dead Lister. Don't worry, you're half the way there: You look dead enough. But you are slightly more alive than me, and therefore you are being disrespectful of the dead. I could give you some sort of punishment for that."
"What sort, Rimmer?" he retorted, "Go on, quote me some of yeh space core directives, eh? You can't Rimmer, can yeh? 'Cause you don't know any of 'em, 'cause you're hopeless at EVERYTHING, Rimmer! You can't do even one smegging thing right! Not even. Arnold Judas Rimmer, bloody gazpacho soup!"
That hit a nerve. If Lister couldn't attack Rimmer physically, then he could certainly hurt him emotionally. Rimmer had to say something: "That was out of order Lister, you promised never to mention it ever again."
"Oh, miss noble now are we?"
"Miss?"
"Yeah, miss, 'cause you scream like a bloody girl and run away at the slightest danger to yourself, even though you can't be hurt, and you let me take all the smeg!"
"I won't listen to any more of this, I'm going." And with that, Rimmer stormed down the corridor."
"Smeg! Hol, did he?" Lister questioned.
"That information cannot be accessed," Holly replied robotically. Instantly Lister knew that it meant "yes". He wailed in despair and curled up in the corner. Without a vindaloo, he was helpless. A chirpy voice perked up from across the room:
"Would you like any toast?"
"Okay," Lister sighed in defeat. Toast was all right, and it would at least keep his stomach from grumbling for now, but it would never replace a vindaloo. The toaster wailed with delight: "My life goal has been fulfilled! This is the first time anyone has actually wanted any toast when I ask them! I knew this would be the perfect time for toast! With you favourite food supplies low, and all."
"Supplies? You mean, everything's gone? Including the lager?"
"Well, not gone, but low."
"How do you know that?"
"I can tap into electronic information, being an electronic device, you know." Then the toast popped up. "Ooh! That tickles!" the toaster giggled, "Enjoy your toast!"
"I'm gonna make it my life goal to get a vindaloo, then smash Rimmer to bits," Lister mumbled under his breath, as he spread jam on his toast, and opened on of the last few cans of lager.
"Enjoy your toast, lager, vindaloo, and the smashing of Rimmer to bits," said the toaster. If toasters could smile, this one would have a big cheesy grin right now.