When Rimmer entered the bunk room, Lister was working on a jigsaw. Typical. He could never fix actual mechanical problems around the ship, but he always had time for a good hundred-piece puzzle.

"Well, I see you're hard at work solving the unified theory," Rimmer said.

"What's the unified theory?" Lister asked without looking up from his puzzle.

"Don't you know anything?" Rimmer asked. Good question—what was the unified theory? "Obviously it's a theory, and it's…unified."

Lister looks at Rimmer and smiled. For some reason, Lister's smile made Rimmer feel supremely uneasy.

"Stop that," Rimmer said.

Lister didn't stop. "I'm only smiling."

"I know you are, and I don't like it," Rimmer said. Suddenly, his mouth opened to speak again, even though Rimmer didn't have anything else to say. "Dave, I just want to say, I really think you're an important part of this crew."

Lister looked flattered. "Do you really think so, Rimmer?"

Rimmer, shocked, touched his voice box. He hadn't just said that. Well, of course, he had—he'd heard himself do it. But usually his voice didn't work like that; he usually knew what he was going to say before he heard himself say it.

"No!" Rimmer said. Then his voice continued. "Absolutely. As a matter of fact, I think you should outrank me. That's how terrific I think you are."

"Well, thanks! That's nice to hear," Lister said.

Lister was behind this somehow. Rimmer didn't know how, but he was sure of it. "I don't know how you're doing this, Lister, but I—" His voice cut off mid-sentence and once again took a life of its own. "I'm actually going to apply for a demotion because I'd like you to be my commanding officer."

Lister crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. "This day gets better and better."

Rimmer struggled to regain control of his voice. "Listen, you weaselly little— " His voice failed again. "I'm so sorry, sir. I'm not fit to lick your boots. In fact, that's a good idea. May I?"

"May you what?" Lister asked.

This was so incredibly embarrassing. Rimmer could feel a subservient, eager smile forming on his face. "May I please lick your boots, sir? It would be an honor. My tongue is just itching to go."

Lister shrugged. "You can if you want."

With supreme effort, Rimmer managed to get out a complete sentence before he lost control again. "I'd probably get athlete's tongue. I didn't mean it, sir, honestly I didn't. Please don't turn me off, pretty please."

Rimmer's body knelt in front of Lister in an attitude of submission, and Rimmer's entire face turned bright pink. This couldn't really be happening; it was some kind of nightmare. Yes, that was it. He would wake up soon.

"It's okay," Lister said, clearly enjoying himself. "I know you didn't mean it."

Rimmer tried to keep his mouth shut so that he couldn't say anything more, but his voice prattled on. "All the times I ever insulted you, I was actually insulting myself. I really do think you're wonderful."

"Thanks," Lister said.

"In every way. Your taste in music, clothes, food…it's all so much better than mine. Everything about you is what I aspire to be someday," Rimmer said. Will I never shut up? Suddenly, he realized he temporarily had control of his voice. "When I'm back to normal, Lister, you'll really be in for it."

Lister smiled innocently. "You wouldn't do anything to a pregnant man, would you?"

Rimmer harrumphed in the back of his throat. "There's plenty I can do to make sure that you're booted out of the Space Corps for good, miladdo!"

Lister considered that idea. "Yeah, but for the next twenty-four hours, I don't really care."

Rimmer's body entered a groveling position. "Please, forgive me," his voice said.

Rimmer wondered how many years of insults he would have to pelt Lister with before he could get back at him for this colossal humiliation.

Just wait till he's in labor, Rimmer thought. That will be revenge enough.

THE END