Disclaimer: If people are so thick they don't understand I don't own Red Dwarf, then we should just put them into a blend and turn them into a thick, creamy smoothie!

Well, this is just a short sketch set in series 8, inspired by a run in Sian had with a demented bingo group down in Dorset - Read on...

Bingo Then Bust

Rimmer and Lister laid on their prison bunks in a state of mindless boredom, Lister was once again counting the number of grills in the ceiling, and Rimmer was counting how many times Lister moved in a minute – he could tell from the way the springs squeaked under his weight.

"God I'm bored!" Lister stated eventually, causing Rimmer to rolls his eyes and stand up in a huff.

"Yes well, it's your fault we're here! What would you like us to do? Go out to a wine bar? Have a few bevies matey boy?" He snapped grumpily – Arguing was a good way to pass the time.

"I was only saying!" Lister replied defensively.

"Then don't! You're about as much use to me as a blind sheepdog is to a farmer!" Rimmer sighed and buried his head in his hands and yawned – Even arguing could get boring.

Lister sighed too then thought for a moment. "…There was a farmer had a dog, and Bingo was his name oh!"

"Lister, shut up – I don't really want to go deaf as well as insane thank you very much!"

"My singings not that bad you know!" Lister retorted, Rimmer sighed yet again but decided he couldn't be bothered to reply even as Lister began humming the song again.

"I wonder why it's Bingo."

"What?"

"The song – why is the dog called Bingo? Why not Fido, or Mark or Mr Fleas?" Lister asked as he sat up and looked at Rimmer.

"How the hell should I know – maybe he had a part time job at a bingo hall calling out numbers!" Rimmer replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Don't be stupid – How could he call out the numbers?... I never liked bingo – People think it's just a group of happy little pensioners spending their change so as to waste a Friday evening and maybe win a bottle of plonk – But it's much more sinister than that!" Lister nodded knowingly and Rimmer raised an eyebrow.

"What's so sinister about bingo?"

"One time right, me and the guys had a fundraising gig at this church in a village just outside Liverpool, we got there – total parking mayhem! So we went in the village hall car park – no biggie, did the gig, was out by 10pm. Went back to the car – TOTALLY blocked in! Turns out it was a group of biddies at their Friday late night bingo session. We went in and asked them to move their cars so we could get out, they refused to and ranted, we could handle it until they got nasty – I mean, 3 teenage guys against 30 old women with handbags and sharp, pointy pens? Equals not safe!" Lister finished his speech then frowned as Rimmer started laughing

"You got beaten up by old ladies with handbags?" Rimmer smirked happily.

"Ey – They may look sweet and innocent, but interrupt a game of bingo and they get vicious!" He defended grumpily. "It's how I got this scar on the back of my head – One of the women whacked me with her handbag that happened to have a brick inside in case someone tried to mug her!"

"I think it had long term effects."

"Oh ha ha ha! We got our revenge anyway."

"How?"

"We waited till they eventually moved their Astras and Micras, dashed… Well hobbled in, ripped up as many of their bingo tickets as we could and legged it!" Lister replied semi proudly.

"So mature... What happened then?"

"Well, we escaped in the car, got a few miles down the road… then an 80 yr old half-blind woman in a Nova took out our wing mirror!" Rimmer opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it as he climbed back onto his bunk – Maybe he was safer just counting spring squeaks…