Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Mission Monitor Board The TOP 5 Posters Club!

"All right, everybody ready? Let's go, then."
"What are you doing, Hol?"
"What? What's wrong?"
"The rug, man. Why are you wearing a toupee?"
"What toupee?"
"The one on your head."
"Who's head's that, then?"
"Your head. It makes you look like a game show host."
"What's wrong with everyone? Three million years without a woman and you all act as if you're fourteen years old."
"Oh, yeah? What about you and the socks?"
"What socks?"
"Come on, we can't hang about."
"He ordered two pairs of socks."
"What for?"
"One pair to put on his feet and the other pair to roll up and put down his trousers."

Holly & Rimmer make fools of themselves

"Holly, give me access to the crew's confidential reports."
"Those are for the Captain's eyes only, Arnold."
"Fine. Well, we'll give him ten seconds to come back from the dead, and if he hasn't managed it, we'll presume I'm in charge... No, he hasn't managed it."
"*sigh* Whose do you want?"
"Give me ... give me Lister's. Just the remarks."
"David Lister, Technician, 3rd class. Captain's remarks: 'Has requested sick leave due to diarrhea on no less than 500 occasions. Left his previous job as a supermarket trolley attendant after ten years because he didn't want to get tied down to a career. Promotion prospects: zero.'"
"I always liked Captain Hollister. Such a great reader of men, was Captain Hollister. A marvellous, marvellous man and a tragic loss to us all. All right, Holly, give me ... give me mine.
"'Arnold Rimmer, Technician, 2nd Class. Captain's remarks: "There's a saying amongst the officers: If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing well. If it's not worth doing, give it to Rimmer. He aches for responsibility but constantly fails the engineering exam.'"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Holly, Holly. I want *my* report. Rimmer. Two M's, E, R."
"'Astoundingly zealous. Possibly mad. Probably has more teeth than brain cells. Promotion prospects: comical.'"
"No no no no no, Holly. I want *Rimmer*. That's two R's, one at the front, one at the back.
"Arnold, this *is* your report."
"I always hated that pus-head Hollister. He always resented my popularity. That's why he never put forward my proposal to reduce the minimum haircut length by an eighth of an inch. Small-minded, petty-thinking modo."

As Rimmer would know

"Okay. Rimmer, make this quick."
"Sir, I wish to place on record that third technician Lister, David--"
"Get on with it, Rimmer."
"--smuggled aboard the mining vessel Red Dwarf a consignment of a hallucinogenic fungi "Titan Mushrooms," more popularly known to the Space Beatnik community as "Freaky Fungus."
"Is this true?"
"Erm, sort of."
"And on the morning of Febuary the 26th, at 0800 hrs, did engage in conversation with second technician Rimmer, Arnold J.--"
"For crying out loud, Rimmer!"
"--the outcome of which was a proposal by the aforementioned Lister to the aforementioned Rimmer to cook him breakfast."
"Okay, I'm getting the picture."
"Breakfast comprised of two eggs, three rashers of bacon, a grilled tomato, two sausages, a small portion of fried potatoes... and a large quantity of _mushrooms_. Having consumed this repast, second technician Rimmer, Arnold J. experienced what can only be described as a voyage to trip-out city. To whit, a major hallucinogenic fit."
"Lister, is this true?"
"No, sir. I'm sure it was only one egg."
"The aforementioned Rimmer, to whit, me, then attended inspection parade. He was totally naked except for a pair of mock-leather driving gloves and some blue swimming goggles. Under the influence of this psychadelic breakfast he went on to attack two senior officers, believing them to be giraffes who were armed and dangerous."
"You'd better have a good reason for this, Lister."
"I have, sir."
"Why'd you do it?"
"I thought it'd be a laugh."
"Right. Two weeks PD, Lister. Dismissed."
"With respect, sir, the penalty for a crime of this nature is fifteen years imprisonment."
"Y'WHAT!?!"
"Rimmer, I sentenced this man."
"Two weeks?"
"That's enough."
"Two smegging weeks?"
"I said, that is enough!"
"With repect, sir, you've got your head right up your big fat arse."

Rimmer... is Rimmer is Rimmer is Rimmer

"Eight weeks PD! How come I get eight weeks and you get only two?"
"What did I do to deserve that? What did I do?
"You shouldn't have stuck your pencil up his nose!
"It was the rubber end! Plus, the doctor will get it out in no time.
"You ripped up and ate his wife's photograph."
"I didn't know it was his wife. I thought it was a publicity shot for "Planet Of The Apes."

Rimmer suffers the fallout from the above incident

"Felicitations, beautiful ladies. Back from planet-leave? Let me take those heavy cases. My name is Olaf Petersen. I am very good in bed. It is always an honour to carry the personal luggages of such beautiful ladies."
"Petersen!"
"Oh, hi."
"Petersen, how are you, mate? I don't believe it, it's you! I've missed you, you know. Give us a kiss, you smelly-arsed smegger."
"He's just a friend!"
"I don't believe it -- it's really you!"
"He hasn't seen me since breakfast!"
"I'll see you later!"
"Sure."
"No, I promise. I'll come to your _room_ and see you."
"Lister, you DIE for this!"

Lister goes a bit overboard over meeting the pal he hasn't seen for 3000002 years. His old pal, not having seen him for a full couple of hours and trying to round up some female company, is less happy

"We don't run, we strike! It's the last thing they'll be expecting"
"No, the last thing they'll be expecting is for us to turn into ice-skating mongooses and dance the Bolero."

Rimmer 1-0 Cat

"Strike a light, I'm a genius again! I know everything! Metaphysics, philosophy, the purpose of being; everything! Ask me a question, any question, and I'll answer it!"
"Any question?"
"Yes."
"How to break the speed of light? How to marry quantum mechanics and classical physics? Any question at all -- truly anything -- and you will answer?"
"Yes."
"Okay, here's my question: Would you like some toast?"
"No, thank you. Now ask me another."
"Do you know anything about the use of chaos theory in predicting weather cycles?"
"I know everything there is to know about chaos theory in predicting weather cycles!"
"Oh, very well. Here's my second question: Would you like a crumpet?"
"I'm a computer with a IQ of twelve thousand. You don't seem to understand; I know the meaning of the universe!"
"That is not answering my question."
"No, I would not like a crumpet! Ask me a sensible question. Preferably one that isn't bread-related."
"Very well, I have a third question. A sensible question. A question that will tax your new IQ to its very limits and stretch the sinews of your knowledge to bursting point."
"This is going to be about waffles, isn't it?"
"Certainly not. And I resent the implication that I am a one-dimensional, bread-obsessed electrical appliance."
"I apologise, toaster. What's the question?"
"The question is this: Given that God is infinite, and that the universe is also infinite, would you like a toasted tea-cake?"

And who says the Talkie Toaster is frustrating?

"Kryten, what you doing, man?"
"I've just repaired the toaster, Sir. Well, I've nearly repaired the toaster."
"Oh NO, man! Dismantle him! You don't know what the little bleeder's like!"
"Well, I've read all the documentation, Sir. He's simply a talking alarm clock who provides his owner with early morning toast and light conversation."
"Not this one. This one's mental!"
"Sir?"
"He's defective. He wants everyone to eat toast ALL OF THE TIME. He's obsessed with it. And if you don't want to eat, like, four hundreds rounds of toast EVERY HOUR, he throws a major wobbly. That's what caused the accident in the first place."
"What accident?"
"The accident involving me, the toaster, the waste disposal and the fourteen pound lump-hammer."
"That explains why he was down in the garbage hold in three thousand separate pieces."

Lister, apparantely

"I didn't know you could do that!"
"Oh yes, I can plug a number of add-ons into my groinal socket, allowing me to perform virtually any household task imaginable."
"Like what?"
"Oh, you name it: buzz saw, power drill, hedge trimmer ... even an egg whisk."
"What, so you just, like, stick the egg whisk attachment on the end and you can, like, whip up a Spanish omelette?"
"I certainly can, sir, but it's amazing how few people are prepared to eat them."

Wonder why...

"I don't want you to panic, Arn, but it does appear there's a very tiny possibility that there may very well in all likelihood possibly be a non-human life form on board."
"You mean like last time, when you got us all worked up and we went scooting off down to the cargo bay complete with bazookoids and backpacks, and it turned out to be one of Lister's socks?"
"I didn't recognise the genetic structure. Biologically speaking, they were a completely new life form."

"We have been travelling through the galaxy now for three million years and there are many things we've discovered. The highest form of life in the universe is Man and the lowest is a man who works for the post office."

Holly muses on Life

"I've no idea who you are, but boarding this vessel is an act of war. Ergo, we surrender. And as prisoners of war I invoke the All Nations Agreement article number 39436175880932/B."
"39436175880932/B. "All nations attending the conference are only allocated one parking space". Is that entirely relevant, sir? I mean, here we are in mortal danger, and you're worried about the Chinese delegates bringing two cars?
"Can't you let just one go? I was talking about the right of P-O-W's to non-violent constraint."
"But that's 39436175880932/C, sir."

Rimmer knoweth not of what he speaketh

"There is no need for alarm, sir. If there were any dangerous viral strains in the atmosphere, the Psi-scan would have picked them up by now. Hmmm, it's never done that before... Blasted stupid cheap damn stupid Martian power packs."
"So what's the news?"
"Well, if I could just beg your indulgence for a few seconds more, sir, the old 345 takes a little time to warm up. (He gives it another shake.) Still, it out-performs the 346 in 8 out of 9 bench tests. A small wonder, then, that it secured "Psi-scan of the Year, Best Budget Model" three years running. Now here are the results. And we're going to ... live."
"*Sigh* We're a real Mickey Mouse operation aren't we?"
"Mickey Mouse? We ain't even Betty Boop!"

"Species: unknown. Similar to Earth haddock. Cause of death: _suffocation_."
"What?!"
"(Over the radio) What is it?"
"This fish _suffocated_ in water. It voluntarily closed its own gills."
"Are you saying that this haddock committed suicide?!
"I'm merely stating the known facts. This fish relinquished its life of its own free will. Damned fool!"
"Why would a haddock kill itself? Why am I even asking that question?"

"Look, maybe we can reason with it. Open communication channels, Lister. Broadcast on all known frequencies, and in all known languages, including Welsh... This is acting senior officer Arnold J Rimmer of the Jupiter Mining Corporation transport vehicle Star Bug. Now hear this, 'cos it's only coming once: We surrender, totally and without condition. Thank you for listening. Oh, additional: sorry to take up your valuable time. Sorry. Thank you. Sorry. Bye. Bye. Sorry. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
"Rimmer, you've got a longer yellow streak than a stampede of diuretic camels."

PR: Yes, yes, I think so too. All right then, well take this down. Eh,
"From His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales to Miss Amy Hardwood.
Tally-ho my fine saucy young trollop! Your luck's in! Trip along here
with all your cash, and some naughty night attire, and you'll be
staring at my bedroom ceiling from now till Christmas, you lucky tart!
Yours with the deepest respect etc, signed George. PS Woof woof!"
Well, what do you think?

E: It's very *moving* sir. Would you mind if I change just one tiny
aspect of it?

PR: Which one?

E: The words.

PR: Oh yes, I'll, I'll, I'll leave the details to you Blackadder. Just
make sure she knows I'm all man... with a bit of animal thrown in.
Rrrrgh!

E: Certainly sir. (Scores out the Prince's letter)

[...]

E: From his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales to Miss Amy Hardwood:-
"The upturned tilt of you tiny wee nosy, smells as sweet as a great
big posy." Fanciful stuff of course madam, but, but from the heart.

LISTER: There are only three alternatives. It thinks we're either a threat, food, or a mate. It's gonna either kill us, eat us, or hump us. We can either persuade it that we are not that sort of oceanic salvage vessel or we scarper pronto.
CAT: To be diddled by a giant squid on the first date? Think how we'd feel in the morning!

Some things NEVER change... Here's the Top 5 Posters just copied/pasted from the Directory:


Lightning Lad - 1992 posts

MLLASH - 1482 posts

DrakeB3003 - 1168 posts

Eryk Davis Ester - 1089 posts

Kid Prime - 1078 posts

And LL has pulled away with a commanding lead -- no question who the biggest post whore is 'round these here parts!

I'm approaching the big 500... whoo hoo, I think this isd my third attempt at crossing that boundary!

is this it?

that WAS it!!

there's gonna be no living with me now!

Congratulations!

And I just wanna go home with you. Who wants to *live* with you, anyway?

Don't mind me. Just playing through.

Congrats, LL!