When Holly's alarm sounded the next morning, Lister didn't even want to roll out of bed. It had taken all his stamina to get out of bed and start doing jerks the previous morning; he couldn't be expected to do that more than once or twice in his lifetime.

"Off," Rimmer mumbled from the top bunk.

"Lights," Lister said, sitting up. He would have to give up the game before he'd won. Oh, well. He'd think of something else to amuse himself. "I can't do this anymore, man."

"Unh?" Rimmer asked, sounding less than conscious.

Lister shook his head. "I mean it. I really tried to be chipper, and it was funny to see you try to get me back to normal, but I can't keep it up. So I'm back to normal, okay?"

"You making fun of me?" Rimmer asked.

Lister frowned. Something about Rimmer's voice was off. "What?"

"Stop talking with me accent," Rimmer said.

That was it. Rimmer was mimicking Lister's accent. Lister felt a rush of indignation. "You stop talking with mine!"

Rimmer plopped out of the top bunk, turning to face Lister. Lister noticed that Rimmer was wearing one of Lister's football shirts, with his own uniform shirt on top, untucked and unbuttoned. It was an interesting look for Rimmer.

"Look, Rimmer, you can't—" When Rimmer saw Lister, his eyes widened, and he took a few steps away. "Oh, smeg…what the smeg did you do to me?"

Lister was trying to figure out what was going on. "What did I do to you? Why are you talking like that?"

"That's how I talk. Who's in there? Rimmer?" Rimmer asked.

"No, it's not Rimmer! I'm Lister; you're Rimmer," Lister said.

Rimmer looked as if he were on the verge of understanding something. "My hands." He turned around and looks in the mirror over the sink, staring at his reflection with a mix of horror and shock. "How did I get in here?"

"I dunno," Lister said. So he really thinks he's me.

Rimmer glanced at Lister. "You're sure you're not Rimmer."

Lister snorted. "I'm pretty sure, thanks."

"But that doesn't make sense. Holly said this is temporary. If I'm not you…I mean, me…" Rimmer trailed off, confused.

"Holly knows about this?" Lister said.

Rimmer nodded. "Yeah. I panicked and called him when I couldn't eat the vindaloo."

Lister perked up. "Vindaloo?"

"I ordered some last night in the drive room," Rimmer said.

Lister made a mental note to go to the drive room later. Lobster vindaloo sounded fantastic. "What were you doing in the drive room?"

Rimmer frowned, trying to remember. "I don't know."

"'Cause Rimmer went to bed in here," Lister said.

Rimmer shook his head. "But why would he replace himself with me? He hates me."

"I know," Lister said.

Rimmer's shoulders slumped, and he stared at the floor. "This is probably the worst day ever. I can't eat, I can't smoke…"

"Ask Holly for a smoke," Lister said.

"What's he gonna do, blow smoke at me?" Rimmer said.

After months of regulation-style insult humor, Lister thought it was nice to hear a healthy amount of sarcasm. "He makes uniforms for Rimmer. Maybe he can make a cigarette for you."

Rimmer turned to the mirror. "Holly? Can you give me a pack of cigarettes, man?"

"Sure," Holly said.

A packet of holographic cigarettes appeared in Rimmer's shirt pocket. Rimmer took one out, looking relieved. "Can you light it, please?"

The cigarette end flared. Rimmer took a deep drag on the cigarette and then stuck it in his ear.

Lister shook his head. "This is weird, watching you."

Rimmer snorted. "How do you think I feel? At least you still look like you. I look like Mr. Bleeding Smeghead."

Rimmer took the cigarette out of his ear and took another drag. Watching Rimmer smoke made Lister realize he hadn't had a cigarette in a long time, so he began looking around the room for his cigarettes.

"Hey, listen," Rimmer said. "Do you think I could stay?"

"What do you mean, stay?" Lister said, finding his cigarettes at the bottom of a pile of his dirty socks.

"Rimmer doesn't have to come back, does he?" Rimmer asked.

Lister turned to look at Rimmer. "You wanna go through life looking like that?"

"It's better than going back to…" Rimmer shrugged. "Wherever I came from."

"I don't know, man," Lister said, taking out a cigarette and tossing the pack back into his dirty clothes.

"Aren't you supposed to stop smoking 'cause you're pregnant?" Rimmer asked.

"Yeah. How'd you know that?" Lister said.

"Are you kidding? Rimmer reminds me all the time. Well, he reminds you," Rimmer said.

Lister sighed, dropping the cigarette in the pile of dirty clothes. "I can't stand it. You get to smoke and I don't."

"You get to eat and I don't. So we're even," Rimmer said, looking similarly disappointed.

"I guess," Lister said, shrugging.

Rimmer switched back to his main sales pitch. "Just think about letting me stay. You don't like Rimmer. And you know you like me, cause I'm you. Think about it. He'd never nag you again. He'd never wake you up with those stupid trumpet sounds he makes when he gets up in the morning."

Lister made a face at the thought. "I hate those."

"I know. So do I," Rimmer said. "And he'd never call us "Listy" again when he wanted to make us feel stupid. All the million things he used to do to drive us crazy, he can't do anymore. So why bring him back? We can do whatever we want now."

"I guess so," Lister said.

Rimmer shook his head. "You don't seem excited enough. It's celebration time, man!" Rimmer started to hum and dance around the bunk room.

Lister wasn't in the mood for dancing; something was gnawing at him. "But I think Rimmer's gone and you're here because of me."

Rimmer stopped dancing. "What do you mean?"

"I was trying to play a joke on Rimmer by pretending he'd finally rubbed off on me. I got up at the alarm and went jogging with him," Lister said.

Rimmer looked skeptical. "How did that go?"

"I was knackered after 500 meters," Lister said. "He was too, so that was okay. But I did a couple things to make him think I thought I was him."

"Like?" Rimmer said.

"I claimed his bunk and called him 'Lister,'" Lister said.

Rimmer snickered.

"See, if you were you, you wouldn't think that was funny," Lister said, a little disquieted by seeing Rimmer act so much like him.

"I am me," Rimmer said.

"I know, but you're the wrong you. You're me you instead of you you," Lister said.

Rimmer looked confused. "What?"

Lister couldn't shake his guilt. "I just keep thinking…if you go and I stay, I'm still here, at least. But if you stay and Rimmer doesn't come back, he's really dead."

Rimmer shrugged. "What are you worrying about? We don't know how to get Rimmer back even if we wanted to."

"We could ask Holly," Lister said.

Rimmer didn't look impressed with the idea. "You really want to do that?"

"No," Lister said. "But I don't think I have a choice."

"I'll ask," Rimmer said, turning to face the viewscreen. "Holly?"

Holly appeared on the viewscreen, wide-eyed and guilty looking. "I don't know a thing. Don't ask me."

Rimmer and Lister exchanged glances.

"Holly," Lister said, "have you been coached on what to say?"

Holly glanced from side to side. "No, really, I haven't. Can I go now?"

"What aren't you supposed to tell us, Holly?" Rimmer asked.

"I told him I wouldn't tell you," Holly said.

"You told who?" Lister asked.

"Arnold," Holly said.

Lister didn't know what to do, but Rimmer gave Lister a wink.

"Yeah," Rimmer said, "but Rimmer's not here now. It's just me."

"Yeah, but he said not to tell…" Holly paused to sort things out. "Who did he say not to tell?"

"You can tell me, Holly. And he's me as well. You can tell us both," Lister said.

Holly nodded. "All right. Arnold decided to overwrite his personality with yours, Dave, so he could get you back the way you were. It's all temporary. All he has to do is say the word."

"You mean me," Rimmer said.

"Yeah," Holly said.

"I have to agree to be erased," Rimmer said, looking disgruntled at the idea.

"Not erased. Just put back into storage," Holly said.

Lister shrugged. "That sounds easy enough."

Rimmer nodded. "Yeah. I'm not doing it."

"What do you mean, you're not doing it?" Lister asked. Surely Rimmer-as-Lister wouldn't be around for the rest of Lister's life.

"I get to decide, and I'm not going," Rimmer said with an emphatic gesture.

"Think about this, man," Lister said.

"I have. I wanna stay here," Rimmer said.

Lister kept thinking of the duplicate Rimmers. How long before Lister would get into arguments with himself? How long before they moved to opposite ends of the ship just to get away from each other? He had to convince himself to let Rimmer come back, as frightening as the idea was. "Think how boring it would be after a couple months."

"It wouldn't be boring," Rimmer said.

Apparently Lister would have to come up with a better argument. What could he say to convince himself to go into storage? "It'd be doubly boring for you. You can't touch anything or hold anything. You can't eat. Plus you know everything I know."

Rimmer leaned forward, trying to get Lister excited about the change. "We can play Rastabilly Skank loud as we want and nobody will care."

"We can bore each other stupid by telling the same stories that both of us know over and over again," Lister said. "There's nothing good to do with yourself. Don't you remember when there were two Rimmers?"

Rimmer made a face. "Yeah, that was pretty bad."

"Rimmer's had enough trouble being dead. I don't wanna kill him again," Lister said. Had he gone too far?

"He killed himself," Rimmer said.

"Yeah, twice now," Lister said, looking meaningfully at his alter ego.

Rimmer sighed. "You're making me feel guilty."

"Just wanted to share the experience with you," Lister said. Was it enough? Had he convinced him?

"Fine," Rimmer said. "I'll go back. But just remember—every time he needles you about being pregnant or calls you a gimboid, you could've had me."

Lister nodded. He wasn't sure he was making the right decision; maybe he would never know.

Rimmer turned to Holly. "Holly? Put Rimmer back in here and kick me out."

"Okay, Dave," Holly said.

Rimmer waggled a Lister good-bye wave at Lister before the change occurred. Rimmer's clothing changed back to his standard uniform, and Rimmer swayed a little, lifting his hands to his head and massaging his temples.

"Did it work?" Rimmer asked in his normal voice. "Are you normal again?"

"Yeah, I'm normal," Lister said, dreading the explanation that had to come next. "Look, Rimmer…I didn't really think I was you. It was a joke."

Rimmer's nostrils were already beginning to flare. "A joke?"

Lister nodded. "Yeah. I wasn't really motivated or studying astronavigation or any of that smeg."

"And you think that's funny?" Rimmer asked, advancing a few steps toward Lister.

"Beats a round of Charades, that's for sure," Holly offered.

Rimmer wheeled on Holly. "You! Why didn't you tell me he was faking the whole thing?"

Holly looked baffled. "I didn't know."

"You couldn't have made a guess?" Rimmer asked.

"I'm a computer. I don't guess," Holly said. Then he thought a moment. "Much."

Lister tried to draw some of Rimmer's rage away from Holly. "It was pretty funny, though, Rimmer."

"I don't care how funny it was!" Rimmer said, turning on Lister. "You have all the intelligence of a stale fortune cookie!" He turned to face Holly again. "And you! Your CPU is the size of a walnut and you don't even use half of it!"

"Oi! I don't have to listen to this," Holly said, blinking out.

"Hey! Come back here, you…" Rimmer trailed off once he realized that he was speaking with Lister's accent again. Lister covered his mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Rimmer turned and glared at Lister.

"I guess Holly doesn't like being insulted," Lister said.

"Holly? Give me my smegging voice back or I'll have Lister dismantle you!" Rimmer said.

"Don't come to me, man. I've only got the intelligence of a fortune cookie. I might dismantle the hologram simulation suite by mistake," Lister said, enjoying the moment.

When Rimmer spoke again, he still had Lister's accent. "Holly? Can you hear me? Holly? This isn't funny!"

Lister couldn't help it. He laughed.

THE END