Lister entered the mess. He wasn't really hungry; he just wanted somewhere he could be alone a little while.
Every time, Lister thought. Every time there's even a hint of hope in my life, Rimmer has to stomp all over it. Lister didn't know whether it was due to a perverse streak in Rimmer's nature or if the hologram really and truly saw things in so bleak a light.
Lister turned to check the contents of the cupboard, and suddenly found himself with his arms full of dishes, which he dropped before he realized what he'd done. "Oh."
"I don't believe this," said a familiar voice behind him.
Lister turned and saw that the person behind him was…himself? Oh no. No more alter egos. Please. Anything but that. "I'm sorry."
"All the plates," alter-Lister said. "Not just a few, but all the smegging plates."
"It was an accident," Lister said. "I didn't mean to…"
Alter-Lister reached out and slapped Lister sharply on the face. "I don't want your excuses, you piece of hard-light scum!"
Hard-light? Oh, NO. Lister looked down at himself and found he was wearing a blue quilted jacket and black trousers.
"Look," Lister said, "you've got it all wrong."
Alter-Lister leaned in dangerously close to Lister. "Oh, have I? Have I really?"
Lister swallowed hard, his voice getting high-pitched and uncertain. "No?"
"Pick them up," Alter-Lister said roughly. "And then wash the floor. Or else you'll get worse than me hand." He stalked out of the room.
Lister looked at the floor, but there were no broken plates there anymore. His clothes were back to normal too.
"What in smeg was that?" Lister said aloud. It certainly wasn't anything that had happened. Did that mean it was going to happen? But I don't treat Rimmer that way, do I? I mean, I insult him sometimes, but I've never hit him or anything.
Maybe he had been a little rough on Rimmer. Lister decided to apologize.
