Order
I watched as Lister finally started clearing up the dust of the crew who'd been dead for the last three million years.
"You can't sweep everyone up and mix their ashes together," I complained.
Lister stopped, looking at me, cigarette hanging from his mouth mixing with the dust. "Why not? They're dead. Not like they'll know the difference."
"But I will. In case you haven't noticed I'm dead." I pointed to the H on my head. "I don't want you treating my remains this way. So miladdo, we are going to do this properly by the book, collecting everyone off in alphabetical order."
"Are you mad? I'm not going everywhere multiple times to collect them in alphabetical order. I'm doing this room by room?"
After an argument that lasted all day, we ended up compromising, collecting the ashes in alphabetical order within a room. Well, Lister did, I can't touch anything.
Updated 19 May 2017