"I'm having a party tonight."

"Lister, there are four of us on the ship," Rimmer said.

"I never said it would be a big party. And who said you were invited?"

"Oh, imagine how heartbroken I am not to be invited to a marathon lager drinking session followed by a bucket of vindaloo, neither of which I can participate in, and wouldn't even if I could."

"Ask nicely and maybe I'll change my mind."

"Smeg off, Lister."

Lister kicked back on his bunk, his boots still on. "I'll hold it in the officer's club I think."

"You're not allowed in there."

"And you are?"

Rimmer made a weird growling noise, that Lister ignored. "I like it in there. Luxury furnishings, classy deckor."

"That's decor, Lister. Day-core."

"Ooh la la. When do you get your beret, M'suier Rimmerrrrr?"

"Right after I attend your stupid party. And three people isn't a party. Especially when one of them is an android who thinks fun involves mops and bleach."

"I could have some fun with a mop." Lister grinned at the idea. "And bleach. Well, if we had a lawn I could have some fun with bleach."

"What?"

"I once used bleach to write 'smeghead' into the lawn of a car salesman who was knocking off this girl I was seeing."

"You know, Lister, if you'd ever come within a mile of my parent's house, my father would have shot you on sight."

"It's no good trying to be nice to me to get an invitation to the party."

"I told you..."

"Aw, what the hell. You can come. You can be in charge of the coats." He sighed and shook his head. "I'm just too soft hearted me."

Rimmer didn't speak for a while. Then he said quietly, "What time does it start?"