Its 3am Sunday morning and Dave Lister drunkenly staggers down a back street in Liverpool with a box looking for a place to take a leak. He cannot find a scrub or a bush to water so he chooses a brick wall in an alleyway. He places the box on a nearby rubbish bin and with one hand propped up against the wall to keep his balance he relieves himself of several pints of lager that had made his way through his gut. Satisfied that he has shaken the last of the liquid out he adjusts himself and uses his hand on the wall to push himself onto the other wall. No man wants to fall over into his own urine. He stumbles out onto the street, and then goes back into the alleyway to retrieve his box. With the box tucked underneath his arm he continues his travels.

His travels began earlier in a little pub about four kilometres away. The plan was to celebrate his mate Dan's birthday with Bob, Jeff, Mike and Flip. They were to have a few drinks together for the birthday boy and then move onto a nightclub to peruse women or get one of the boys so hammered that they could tie him to a park bench with the words "I smeg for loose change" stencilled onto his chest. However, those plans changed as Lister who hadn't eaten that day to have more money for booze got absolutely kerschnickered after his ninth or twelfth beer and got the group kicked out shortly after eleven. Lister was left behind as the others who walked towards the nightclub and since then Lister had been wondering amiably around the city. At some point, he found himself in an electronic shop with £20. He had no idea why such shop was open so late or where the £20 came from but decided while he was there he should buy a toaster. He really wanted some toast.

Now back to the present time, Lister sat himself on a small patch of grass beside a JMC spaceship parking hold in the more industrial area of town. He ripped open the box and with the aid of his lighter found the button to turn on Talkie Toaster, an artificially intelligent food appliance who furnished you with the weather forecast and news headlines as you munched on toast. The toaster lit up alive and began its introductory speech.

"Hi! I'm Talkie Toaster! Thank you for buying me. I sure hope you like…"

"Toast!" demanded Lister with a slur interrupting the Toaster, "Toast!" The toaster lit up in surprise at the tone but being a professional toaster got over that and concentrated on making the demanding, drunk humanoid some toast. But there was a problem, you need bread to make toast and there was no bread for Talkie Toaster to cook. Talkie nervously blinked his lights and said

"Sir, I need bread to make toast. Do you have any bread?" Lister stared at the toaster before suddenly leaping to his feet and flinging the toaster over the fence separating the JMC spaceships from the public. Lister swore, why the smeg doesn't a toaster come with bread to make toast? The picture of the box had toast, eggs and bacon on a plate beside the box. Ok, so he wasn't expecting bacon and eggs as they would probably dissolve the cardboard box but still he wanted that toast goddammit! The tirade in his head dizzied him somewhat and he sat down again. He could hear the toaster whining at him from the other side of the fence. Oh now drunken Lister felt bad. He should probably retrieve the Toaster and say sorry. He stood up and steadied himself. Although drunk Lister still had a knack for breaking into things that he shouldn't be breaking to. Within ten minutes, he had let himself into the parking lot and was wiping a bit of dirt from the toaster, while he did this he grunted in apology to the Toaster who seemed to accept his apology. After some time being held by the drunken man the Toaster piped up nervously,

"Might there be some bread on your ship?" Lister stared at the toaster and mouthed "My ship?" before looking around and realising he was in the middle of a spaceship yard. He has already broken into the yard so what was stopping him from breaking into a ship to steal bread, or even hotwire one to take him to the nearest bakery for a loaf or sourdough or something?

"Yeah!", grinned Lister "We will get some bread from my ship." He tucked the toaster underneath his arm and started scrumping for a ship. Soon he found a small bottle green ship, shaped like a weird bug, the white lettering on the side read "Starbug" but Lister missed the link between the shape of the ship and its name. He crept up the door and after five minutes of playing with the door he had it open and he started his search for bread. There was no bread, but he found a sealed bottle of marijuana gin and an ancient pack of water crackers hidden behind a sink in a bathroom. He made his way around the unfamiliar ship to the cockpit and threw himself into the pilot's seat. He threw the toaster onto the other seat beside him, cracked open the bottle of marujuana and used his water crackers as a chaser for the bitter, sweet mixture of Juniper berries and THC. Soon he began getting cocky. Although the crackers and gin were going down a treat he thought he'd get the ship up in the air and over to the nearest Denny's. He could probably find himself a fiver for some flapjacks or something no problem. After several minutes, or a hour, of jabbing buttons and moving gear sticks around he found himself rising rapidly into the air. He pressed more buttons and it may have been pure luck or his positive and confidence magically causing it to happen, but he turned on autopilot. He leant back in the seat.

"Brutal!" he enthused drinking to his own genius. He leant forward again to look at the coordinates he input into the system. He guessed, quite wrongly, that a coordinate was very similar to those Freephone numbers with the words in them. So if he turned the name of 'Denny's' into a number the ship would take him there. Unfortunately, for him his luck at making the ship work had worn off and the coordinates 33.6697 would not take him to a popular eatery with reasonable prices but to another place entirely.