QUARANTINE PART TWO: The Return of Mr Flibble

A/N: My 2nd fanfic , a bit more insane than the last one. No planning whatsoever went into this. It was intended to occur after Quarantine, sometime in series 5. Please review. 50 points for anyone who spots the Blues Brothers reference :)

Starring:
Chris Barrie as Rimmer
Craig Charles as Lister
Danny John-Jules as Cat
Robert Llewellyn as Kryten
Hattie Hayridge as Holly
Mr Flibble as himself

Cockpit of Starbug. Cat, Lister, Rimmer and Kryten are present.

Kryten: 3,000 crates of tinned asparagus, 4,083 bags of self raising flour, 7,000 crates of popadoms...
Lister:7,000? Only 7,000?
Rimmer: 'Only' 7,000?! How much do you need?
Lister: I need one box a week, that's at least three poppadoms with every vindaloo. And let's see... we eat vindaloo... well, every night. So that's not gonna last us back to earth. No way. We'll have to re-supply.
Rimmer: And how are we going to do that? Just stop by the next spaceship that has an Indian takeaway? Don't be stupid.
Lister: Alright, don't get antsy.
Rimmer: I'd just prefer it if we stick to the important matters at hand here, which are whether we have enough staple foods to live on and if they're going to last us the rather long 3 million light year journey back to earth.
Lister: What are you worried about, anyway? It's not going to affect you much is it?
Rimmer: It will if everyone on this ship dies of starvation and I'm left alone with a mechanoid with a head shaped like a blob of lumpy Blu-Tack and a demented computer for company.
Lister: It's always about you, isn't it?
Kryten: Sirs, may I suggest we all calm down?
Rimmer: Certainly Kryten. May I suggest you go and stick your head into the waste disposal unit?
Cat: Hey, would you cut it out guys?! I've got a headache worse than a nun's first hangover!
Lister: Alright, so the poppadom situation isn't good. But we're ok for basic foods. We've got the absolute, necessary, required dietary supplements. Curry sauce is fine. Chili powder, no problem. And we're good for chicken vindaloo. Nothing to worry about. (turning back to the front) It's 3 million light years to Earth, we've got a full tank of gas, 7,000 crates of poppadoms, it's dark and I've got me hat on. Let's roll.

Starbug sleeping quarters. Rimmer is wandering around the room, looking for something. Lister walks in, takes his cap off and jumps up onto his bunk.

Rimmer: Lister, have you moved my CDs?
Lister: (suddenly nervous) What? Uh... which one?
Rimmer: My favourite one, the Reggie Wilson one.
Lister: No, haven't seen it. (he looks around guiltily)
Rimmer: Are you sure? Because I've looked everywhere, and I can't find it!
Lister: Oh... listen, you're... you're not gonna like this but...
Rimmer: What? Have you seen it?
Lister: Yeah. Kind of.
Rimmer: Well, where?
Lister: (nervous) You really liked your Hammond organ CDs, didn't you?
Rimmer: (growing angry) Yes!
Lister: But I mean, you would forgive someone if they accidentally... maybe... had a bit of an accident and something bad happened to them. Wouldn't you?
Rimmer: Lister!!
Lister: Look, it was an accident all right! I didn't mean it!
Rimmer: Mean WHAT? what did you do, you stupid baboon-faced pygmy, tell me!
Lister: Alright. Well the other night I was experimenting with a new kind of super-hot chilli sauce. I accidentally spilled some of it on your CD and it kind of... melted.
Rimmer: MELTED?!!
Lister: Yeah. Burnt a hole right through it. I think maybe I put too much chilli powder in.
Rimmer: What were my CDs doing near your chilli sauce??!
Lister: (guility) I was using them as coasters.
Rimmer: (spluttering) You... you complete and utter...
Lister: I'm sorry, ok?
Rimmer: You smegging smeggy smegging piece of... SMEG!
Lister: Rimmer, chill out man!
Rimmer: Chill out?! You destroyed my favourite CD! That was my best CD, my favourite, the one I used to listen to every Friday night with a glass of brandy and my favourite book, you ruined it!
Lister: I'll... I'll pay ya back.
Rimmer: HOW?
Lister: I dunno.
Rimmer: I know. I know exactly how. I demand the total immediate and complete destruction of your guitar as compensation.
Lister: WHAT?
Rimmer: You destroyed my CDs Lister, it's only fair!
Lister: No way. You're not goin' anywhere NEAR my guitar. Anyway, you can't touch it, whattaya gonna do, breathe on it?
Rimmer: I'll get Kryten to do it. He'll obey me. He's programmed to. Into the waste disposal unit. Bye-bye guitar.
Lister: No. I'll order him not to. Ha!
Rimmer: I'll get the Cat to do it.
Lister: He won't take orders from you.
Rimmer: He will if I give him fish.
Lister: Oh... look, Rimmer, I said I was sorry. But you're NOT touching my guitar.
Rimmer: You can't watch it all the time. (he sits slowly and purposefully on his bunk.)
Lister:(reaches for the guitar) I'll sleep with it.
Rimmer: You can't protect it forever, Lister. I'll find a way to destroy it.
Lister: Good NIGHT, Rimmer.
Rimmer: (through gritted teeth) I'll find a way!

The next morning Lister walks into the mid-section in his curry-stained pyjamas, holding the guitar by the neck. He sits down and Kryten walks over jauntily with a plate of food.

Kryten: Morning Mr Lister Sir, how did you sleep?
Lister: (suspiciously) Fine.
Kryten puts a plate down in front of him.
Kryten: There you are, sir. Cornflakes and curry sauce, just the way you like it.
Lister: Has Rimmer tried to order you to smash up my guitar yet?
Kryten: (head contracting into his neck in the way it does when he's feeling guilty about something) N-no sir. Not at all. (his leg jiggles wildly.) Where on earth would you get a funny idea like that.
Lister: You're not gonna do it, Kryten. I FORBID you to touch my guitar.
Kryten: Sir, I would never! I know how much you love your guitar. Besides, orders from a living human take precedence over those from a deceased one, even if he IS your superior.
Lister: Good. I'll be keeping me eye on you, though.

He takes a bite of cornflakes and winces.

Lister: Kryten, this curry sauce tastes a bit odd.
Kryten: Well, it's the same curry sauce I always put in, sir. It hasn't passed its use-by date.

Lister shrugs and goes on eating. Kryten twiddles his fingers nervously and walks out.

Interior of Starbug. Lister stumbles down a corridor looking ill. He has one hand pressed to his stomach, and is still holding his guitar. He staggers into the crew's quarters.

Lister: Ohhhh. That curry I ate. Must've been something wrong with it. Uaaahhh.. I think I'm gonna be sick.

He slumps down onto Rimmer's bunk, not having the strength to climb up into his own.