Fic: Thesaurus
Ha, long time, no post, oops! The long and the short of it is that I haven't been up to much, except watching Red Dwarf, hence:
Title: Thesaurus
Words: 400ish
Rating: PG13 for excessive use of the word "smeg"
Fandom: Red Dwarf
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister, pre-slash
Summary: Just mucking about. Unbetaed.
“Oh smegging hell, you great smeggy piece of smeg,” Lister said, pulling in head out of the thrust compression unit and sitting back on his haunches. Bits of electrical flotsam littered the deck around him, casualties of his losing battle with the machine. “Why in smeg do I have to be on this smegged-up ship?”
“Lovely, just lovely,” Rimmer said, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning over to inspect Lister's work. “You've the vocabulary of a brain-dead chimp. Why haven't you been putting that thesaurus I got you for your birthday to use?”
“I have been putting it to use - I've been using it whenever the bog roll runs out. Why d'you think I keep it next to the toilet?”
Rimmer pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed dramatically. “And that, you ignoramus, is what we call a metaphor. You're given a book - a symbol of learning and erudition! A compendium of human knowledge! The very pinnacle of language and learned discourse! - and you use it to wipe your arse.” Rimmer began to pace as he warmed to his his subject. “Really, Lister, you're an absolute philistine. An idiot savant, minus the savant. You're a buffoon, a cretinous clod, and the first man to be declared fatally allergic to culture by the General Medical Council.”
He turned back to Lister, whose front half had disappeared into the compression unit again, accompanied by the screech of metal against metal. “Did you know the very word thesaurus comes from the Latin word for treasury? Hmm?”
“Actually, I did know that,” came Lister's voice, tinny and muffled. “You got it off a box of breakfast cereal.”
“Did not!”
Lister squirmed back out of the compression unit, brandishing a spanner. “Did too: I read it meself this morning whilst I was in the loo.”
“Breakfasting in the toilet?” Rimmer crossed his arms, his lip curling. “Well, no one can accuse you of inefficiency.”
“Ha ha,” Lister said, rolling his eyes. “The box was empty. I just needed a bit of light reading material, and I get all me best jokes from Sugarblast Meteor-Os.”
“Unbelievable,” Rimmer said.
Lister climbed to his feet, wiping his hands down the front of his trousers. “Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist. I was only joking. I wouldn't use a thesaurus for toilet paper.”
“You wouldn't?” Rimmer asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Of course not,” Lister said and clapped him on the shoulder. “The pages are far too rough.”
Title: Thesaurus
Words: 400ish
Rating: PG13 for excessive use of the word "smeg"
Fandom: Red Dwarf
Pairing: Rimmer/Lister, pre-slash
Summary: Just mucking about. Unbetaed.
“Oh smegging hell, you great smeggy piece of smeg,” Lister said, pulling in head out of the thrust compression unit and sitting back on his haunches. Bits of electrical flotsam littered the deck around him, casualties of his losing battle with the machine. “Why in smeg do I have to be on this smegged-up ship?”
“Lovely, just lovely,” Rimmer said, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning over to inspect Lister's work. “You've the vocabulary of a brain-dead chimp. Why haven't you been putting that thesaurus I got you for your birthday to use?”
“I have been putting it to use - I've been using it whenever the bog roll runs out. Why d'you think I keep it next to the toilet?”
Rimmer pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed dramatically. “And that, you ignoramus, is what we call a metaphor. You're given a book - a symbol of learning and erudition! A compendium of human knowledge! The very pinnacle of language and learned discourse! - and you use it to wipe your arse.” Rimmer began to pace as he warmed to his his subject. “Really, Lister, you're an absolute philistine. An idiot savant, minus the savant. You're a buffoon, a cretinous clod, and the first man to be declared fatally allergic to culture by the General Medical Council.”
He turned back to Lister, whose front half had disappeared into the compression unit again, accompanied by the screech of metal against metal. “Did you know the very word thesaurus comes from the Latin word for treasury? Hmm?”
“Actually, I did know that,” came Lister's voice, tinny and muffled. “You got it off a box of breakfast cereal.”
“Did not!”
Lister squirmed back out of the compression unit, brandishing a spanner. “Did too: I read it meself this morning whilst I was in the loo.”
“Breakfasting in the toilet?” Rimmer crossed his arms, his lip curling. “Well, no one can accuse you of inefficiency.”
“Ha ha,” Lister said, rolling his eyes. “The box was empty. I just needed a bit of light reading material, and I get all me best jokes from Sugarblast Meteor-Os.”
“Unbelievable,” Rimmer said.
Lister climbed to his feet, wiping his hands down the front of his trousers. “Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist. I was only joking. I wouldn't use a thesaurus for toilet paper.”
“You wouldn't?” Rimmer asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Of course not,” Lister said and clapped him on the shoulder. “The pages are far too rough.”