Chapter 4

The Dwarfers took Rimmer (complete with new body) and Kryten to Starbug. Holly remote piloted White Midget to the space-sub with supplies. The AllStars wouldn't let the Dwarfers back into Starbug alone, as they had finally realised that they would horribly spontaneously combust, die or otherwise cease to exist alive, so the five men, cat and mechanoid had to coexist.

Kryten was fixed, but much warier, and Tim had stolen several more of Cat's suits (they had also somehow got their hands on several other items of clothing from Red Dwarf). Paul and Lister were having a competition: who could get more (different) fungal growths on one foot. Richard was confused. No women have been seen for several life times (it seemed).

They've all gone a bit... peculiar.

Lister was sitting on the statue of the Venus de Milo, playing his guitar (it only has four working strings: A, G#, Mb and X$o). Tim stormed out of his room. In the holovirus dress.

"Would you stop that noise! Its awful!"

"Fuckin' oath it is! Call that music?" Paul stared at Tim, "I told you not to wear my dress! Give it back!" He grabbed the dress and tried to pull it off Tim. Lister was off in his own world.

"... from Ganymede and Titan yes sir I've been around..."

Richard ran into the room, "Tim! Tim! I've got a one!" Richard stared at Tim.

Paul had half the dress and smirked, "Does the Tim wear fishnets?" He clutched the dress and screamed (mood swings), "Its fuckin' ripped, my only good dress and its fuckin' ripped! I hate my life! Get me a drink! A drink, a drink, now a drink..."

Later after a few (too many) drinks, Lister has burped the whole of Yankee Doodle twelve times and passed out, Cat has had 'only milk I promish' and gone to bed. Rimmer has drunk himself stupid(er) and is singing "I've got a loverly bunch of coconuts" to a bust of Shakespeare and Paul is sitting on Tim's lap. And Rich is confiding in Lister's comatose body that "... only was my friend..."

"Ah!" said Paul, leaping up, "A drinking song!" The three Dougs stand up and sing:

"Wo-o-o-o-o

Wo-o-o-o-o

Wo-o-o-o-ah!

Its a broad lick nic and I'll tell you while I'm able

Or I'll smash your skull if you'll not drink enough black label

It's a hard man's drink and though the bottles broken

Put your money on the table strain the glass through your teeth!"

Paul goes right up to Rimmer and sings in his face. Throughout the whole song he and Tim are singing at Rimmer and walking around him.

"So we grew up lean mean kings of the street scene

Without a mother's guiding hand to keep us clean

Down your rum we'll take life as it comes

And all your blue rinse critics can lick our literary bum

I drank my first pure malt before I was three

Smoked a pack of Dutch cigarettes my poppy left for me

And I romanced a little lass who was twelve years my elder

At the age of six I held her that year I also bed her

So before I was seven my first child was born

I told a pack of filthy lies as a politician

Heard my own confession as an act of contrition

I spent 10 years as a trapless monk in a village in Tibet

(Liar!)

And I walked up Everest naked (hunh!) just to win a bet

Hey!

Wo-o-o-o-o

Wo-o-o-o-o

Wo-o-o-o (plthffgggrrt)

I cut off my leg to win a one legged race

And when I won I stitched it right back into place

I fought Mohammed Ali

I seduced Matahari

I've even worn a sari

When I impersonated Ghandi

And I dare any man here to call me a liar!

But I swear I've seen Ezekiel I swear I've seen Isiah

Toasting marshmallows in Beelzebub's fire

And we're mad, bad, dangerous to know

We never gave a tinker's cuss about the seeds we sow

And we stay up late and never be forlorn

And when the morning comes around we'll kiss the crack of dawn

(Shame Fraser, shame)

We took the wax from Kerouacs and dusty Dostoyevskys

And when all was said and done booze was all I had left me

For all the world's great thinkers are all a load of pus!

And if you ask us how Zarathrustra spoke

He spake thus!

Drink drink drink

drink until we're drunk

drink until you can't stand up 'til you're roly-poly stunk 'til your bladder bursts 'til your throw fit to curse

'til they lift you up still comatose and slam dance in the hearse

And were good bad ugly as sin

We mixed up cough syrup

with our gin

So take your medicine

I pray that when I die

There'll be someone else around to kiss my arse good bye

Yes I pray I pray that when I die

There'll be someone else around to kiss my arse good bye!"

The three collapsed to the ground after their energetic effort.

"Woo, you fellash sure can belt out a tune eh!" said Rimmer.

He wasn't used to his body yet, and kept trying to walk through walls (though he had never done so as a hologram), he was unused to the whole 'toilet' thing after three million years and passionately hated and resented breathing. He was ill looking, to say the least.

"You know, I'm a total smeghead? Its been dawning on me the past couple weeks. I'm a bloody stupid git to hang 'round with you off chilli egg bastards..."

"We fuckin' hate you too," said Tim drunkenly and whacked Rimmer on the back. He fell over, then pulled himself up.

"No, really, I mean, even unconscious slob over there is better than you total egotishtical twats! Well you two anyway, the other one is just thick."

"What? Did you insult me and Paul? Hey! Say what you like about him, leave me out of it. I don't even like him , to be honest!"

"Yeah?"

"But he's a fuckin' good bo-"

"Shut up! I don't want to know you and your disgusting little go abouts itsh not intreshting!"

"If you say so!" Tim winked hugely at Rimmer and keeled over backwards after draining the last of the...

"... Smütchøk? Sounds dangerous... here's another bottle," Rimmer drank some and nearly exploded, "GOD that's good!"

The pressure of life, along with another Lister (except meaner), another Cat (except uglier, whiter and crazier) and a human puppy dog and the distinct lack of any chance of returning to Earth had taken its toll. Rimmer had fallen in love with the bottle. He was like himself in 'Better Than Life' when the tax man came for him, but with better teeth.

"I hate my life," chimed Rimmer and Paul in drunken harmony.

Kryten walked in.

"Oh dear. I think I'll spend tonight on Starbug," he put a bucket, towels and a box of nameless hangover drugs inside the doorway and left.