The first meeting with himself hadn't gone well. He thought he was hallucinating. Couldn't blame the guy though. Not after what he'd been through.
So, consequently, Rimmer hung out in the table for most of the day. He popped into Frankenstein's hiding place for a minute to say hi. She seemed rather pleased to see him, but was rather disconcerted that she went right through him when she tried to rub up against him. But even with this brief interlude of entertainment, Rimmer was bored. Being in a table was dull.
After a few hours that were more like centuries, Lister (this time's Lister) ambled in, barely upright. Rimmer watched him, feelings of resentment and curiosity bubbling in him. Watched him clean, watch him feed Franke, watched him change. He felt oddly voyeuristic, but shrugged it off. He watched Lister prepare to pull himself onto his bunk and freeze. Lower himself and pull something off the bunk and sharply turn to sit at the table.
What? Rimmer goggled, why would he stop? He looked more tired than the mother of seven young shrieky children. He should sleep for weeks. Then a flash of brightly colored paper caught his eye. Oh yes. The present.
Rimmer had a very good view. Being in the table, and Lister sitting at the table and all.
Lister unwrapped it with more care and delicacy than Rimmer though he even possessed. Once unwrapped he sat and looked at it for a long time. And, after staring blankly at the movie, he brought his hands to his face and sobbed.
It was heart wrenching.
Lister then stole one of Rimmer's many pens (he'd always wondered where that pen had gotten to) and wrote something on the not brightly colored side of the wrapping paper. And he stuck it under Rimmer's pillow.
Where Rimmer never saw it.
Where Rimmer never would see it.
After Lister was very, very asleep, Rimmer snuck into the bed and read the note. While lying contently under the mattress, he had a think. And came to a decision. And went back to the table.
Many hours later, shortly before leaving to return to his own time Rimmer tried one last time to reason with himself.
"You haven't listened to anything I've told you yet. But please, PLEASE, listen to this. Please. Look under your pillow."
So, consequently, Rimmer hung out in the table for most of the day. He popped into Frankenstein's hiding place for a minute to say hi. She seemed rather pleased to see him, but was rather disconcerted that she went right through him when she tried to rub up against him. But even with this brief interlude of entertainment, Rimmer was bored. Being in a table was dull.
After a few hours that were more like centuries, Lister (this time's Lister) ambled in, barely upright. Rimmer watched him, feelings of resentment and curiosity bubbling in him. Watched him clean, watch him feed Franke, watched him change. He felt oddly voyeuristic, but shrugged it off. He watched Lister prepare to pull himself onto his bunk and freeze. Lower himself and pull something off the bunk and sharply turn to sit at the table.
What? Rimmer goggled, why would he stop? He looked more tired than the mother of seven young shrieky children. He should sleep for weeks. Then a flash of brightly colored paper caught his eye. Oh yes. The present.
Rimmer had a very good view. Being in the table, and Lister sitting at the table and all.
Lister unwrapped it with more care and delicacy than Rimmer though he even possessed. Once unwrapped he sat and looked at it for a long time. And, after staring blankly at the movie, he brought his hands to his face and sobbed.
It was heart wrenching.
Lister then stole one of Rimmer's many pens (he'd always wondered where that pen had gotten to) and wrote something on the not brightly colored side of the wrapping paper. And he stuck it under Rimmer's pillow.
Where Rimmer never saw it.
Where Rimmer never would see it.
After Lister was very, very asleep, Rimmer snuck into the bed and read the note. While lying contently under the mattress, he had a think. And came to a decision. And went back to the table.
Many hours later, shortly before leaving to return to his own time Rimmer tried one last time to reason with himself.
"You haven't listened to anything I've told you yet. But please, PLEASE, listen to this. Please. Look under your pillow."
