CHAPTER 4
What are Dreams for

Without opening his eyes Lister awoke having to relieve his bladder of the last two smart lagers (Tm) he had imbibed. Unfortunately upon awaking he found himself staring up helplessly, at Pete the scutter who was welding, haphazardly one may add, a blood stained surgical scalpel.

The Scutter, noticing that his patient had regained consciousness looked down past Lister's sweat laden face at Rimmer who wearing a white nurses hat, and was standing at the end of Lister's bed. Accompanying Rimmer was a second scutter also wearing a white nurses hat, and operating two cylinders and some sort of mask connected with tubes at both ends.

Groggily Lister attempted to distinguish what was being said. He couldn't be absolutely sure but Rimmer was clearly directing at least one if not both of the of the Skutters. The feeling of relief was followed, seconds later, by the fear of a man who couldn't get above the level of soup machine repair in eleven years, was directing an operation conducted solely by scutters. On Him!
Attempting to rise Lister discovered that he had been strapped down to the operating table. Just as the patient was about to lose his head and start yelling like a sailor on leave in a border town, the Cat strolled in.

Walking directly up to Pete the Scutter the Cat skillfully removed the scalpel from the mad scutter, kicking the mobile floor sweep aside. A smile worked its way across Lister's face, and a second later a sigh of relief.

"Hi Buddy! Sorry I'm late." The Cat apologized, smiling a little too much.
"Cat, man! Boy am I ever glad to see you. Help me get out of this and wheel me down to the Medi bay. I don't feel very well."

"What the heck's going on?" Exclaimed the Cat. "I thought old dormouse cheeks was going to be asleep through all this." He was addressing Rimmer.

"Oh well if he want's to watch who am I to stop him." The Cat smiled and raised the scalpel. "Now let a professional show you how it's done."

"Cat, what the smeg are you talking about?"

"It's simple, old golf post head said that I can have all the extra bits that are left over after the operation. I figured if I did it personally I can cut out all the really choice parts," smiled the Cat his fangs seeming extra long. "You know, like a butcher," he added, not really needing to.

Lister so dumbfound by this unforeseen development had been left speechless, with a look of stupefied perplexed tattooed on his sweaty face.
Now Rimmer was coming at him with a scalpel as well. He was no longer wearing a nurses hat but an eighteenth century French officers. He also sported goggles and mock leather driving gloves. Nothing else.

"OK Inky, gas him." Rimmer ordered as he pulled the goggles over his eyes. With that, the scutter operating the mask lowered it over the stupefied Lister's face.

As the gas started taking effect Lister watched as both the Cat and Rimmer started to work on his inners, the last thing he saw was something you only see in a Turkish butcher shop window, all stringy with knobby bits all around. A giddy Rimmer and Cat stopped to admire their cutting.

Drifting in and out of consciousness Lister opened his eyes, barely. He was still on the operating table and the mask was still over his face, but it was no longer a scutter at the controls. The operator had almost human hands he thought, and strange looking gloves. As he heard the fresh flow of gas, tasted it his eyes started rolling back. The light from the operation chandelier only allowed him to see the square jawed profile silhouette of it's operator, then he drifted away again.

He awoke one more time, but suddenly. He was no longer on the operating table, but in the gun metal grey hallway just down from the Surgical Medi Bay. Just as suddenly he saw another Lister run past him. The first Lister followed the second. The trip seemingly longer than it should have been, when he finally caught up with himself Rimmer had joined the second Lister where they were joined by a third.

The third Lister had just walked out of the medi bay. He held twin crying babies wrapped in silver blankets. The Third Lister said something to the second Lister which the first couldn't quite make out. Although for some reason unknown to him he was fairly confident he knew what they were saying.
Without a warning the second Lister pulled out his instamatic camera and shot the third. In the background, within the medi bay something was startled by the camera's flash. There was a shadow for a moment and then blindness. The first Lister was also fairly confident that he knew what that something was, lurking about. Again not quite knowing how or why.

A coldness crept over the first Dave's lower half. He tried to pull his patients gown further around himself, but found he couldn't. When he lifted his hands to his face they were covered with something bright red and sticky. Looking down at his feet he also noticed most of his midsection was missing and the floor in his general vicinity was covered in blood. His blood.

Unable to catch his breath Lister started pulling at his gown. Trying to
pull it from his throat and untangle himself from it at the same time, he seemed to get more entangled. The white gown slowly turned red as Dave Lister fell to the floor unable to move. He drifted off, his eyes stared blankly at the red that covered them. Then nothing.

Opening his eyes once again Lister sat up immediately. Hitting his head on his bunks ceiling. Through the pain he was heartedly relieved at the sight of the familiar chipped military gray of his bunk walls. The only thing red about his person was spilled curry and tomato sauce covering the Mimas Hilton Blanket he had been wrapped up in.

"Smeggen' hell. What a nightmare."