It's the dog's... business, as Talkie offers four rounds of hot buttered to Parallel Universe's Dog.

Name:	Dog Dog (Lister has suggested his middle name might be 'flea-bitten')
Occupation:	Erm
Qualifications:	Aah...
Distinguishing Marks:	Umm...flea bites?
Captain's Notes:	The Cat's (rather disappointing) opposite number in an otherwise all-female parallel universe. He really wasted his money on those flowers.

Hey there Dog, would you like some toast?

Can I fetch it?

Sorry?

You make the toast, throw it, and I'll bring it back. How'd that be, boy?

Well, I suppose I could fire it out of my bread slot...

Alrighty! Let's go.

Okay, while that's toasting, can you talk me through your early days aboard Red Dwarf?

Why sure! I'm the last Dog of my kind. I think. Probably. My parents were left behind on Red Dwarf when the Dog arks left in search of the god, Cloister. My pop was a smart guy, way smarter than me. He could drool from both sides of his mouth at once, never threw his back out when cleaning himself. A great guy my pop.

But eventually I was left alone with this blind priest. He was really pro-Cloister, y'know? Believed in the sanctity of the lamppost and fire hydrant, completely rejected any urge to chase vehicles.

Ooh, the first round of toast's done. Ready?

Oh boy, you bet!

Fetch!

Several minutes later...

Where have you been?

I couldn't find it.

Oh.

Let's do it again, let's do it again!

Really. Okay. While that's cooking, tell me how you got on with the other crew members - Deb Lister and Arlene Rimmer.

Oh, man, that Lister. She's incredible. She's the only human I know who bites her toenails. She has the most amazing-smelling sheets on her bunk, too. It's like this combination of food, excretions and... well, I don't know. That last thing's always kinda screwed me up - I don't know what that last smell is.

Probably the pungent aroma of feet... And what about Rimmer?

Miss Rimmer's a thinker. One of those real commanding types. I remember what Miss Rimmer once said to me, "Some people look at the world and say 'Why?' Others look at the world and say 'Why not?' And some howl at the dispensing machines, urinate on your sheets and sniff the genitals of esteemed company." I think that pretty much sums it up.

There was one time she got kinda funny, now I think about it. I'd been hanging out in the bunks, just jumping around, shaking some stuff for fun, and she got real funny about this pile of revision notes that I'd arranged in a kinda 'everywhere' pattern. Next thing I know, she's got the skutters escorting me down to the medi-lab.

What for?

All I know is that it involved a local anaesthetic, a sharp scalpel and the shaving of one particular area.

Thankfully we don't have to continue on this subject - the toast's done.

Well shoot it, boy!

Fetch!

The minutes pass, yet again...

Well?

Well what?

Did you manage to fetch the toast?

Huh?

You forgot didn't you?

Forgot what?

The toast.

Oh, man, yeah. I knew I was s'posed to be doing something. I went over there, right, and suddenly I remembered - I haven't had a really good scratch in ages. Y'know, one of those ones where you feel you're really getting to the root of the problem, that sound like the sanding stall at a carpenters convention?

Oh, yeah sure. I mean, I'm a toaster without a single digit, no limbs and just an AI chip between me and a regular toaster. So yeah, right, scratching's a cinch.

Cool. So what's your next question, boy?

Would you like some... ah the hell with it. Tell me what your ambitions are.

Ambitions? Me? Well gee, I don't think anyone's ever asked before. I mean, gosh, I'd guess more than anything else I'd like to own a really big bone. Like a dinosaur bone, right? Something you can chew forever and just keep on going.

A bone?

That's right. Most important thing ever, the bone.

That sounds a little obsessive.

Sure it is - who wouldn't be obsessed? I could just park my ass down on the carpet -

Hang on - carpet? Who the hell has carpet on Red Dwarf?

One of the crew bunkrooms had it. I dunno, used to belong to some guy named Kochanski. I heard he said the cold floor brought him out in a rash. So anyway, I'd curl up down there and dig in.

Sounds a bit weird to me.

Why?

Well, it's just a bone. It's the former limb of an animal. A limb that could have taken its owner on great adventures, could have run through fields...

Now that's just dumb - legs don't run on their own.

...And one that almost certainly prevented the animal from having a serious balance problem.

Hey now, don't you diss the object of my desire. What's wrong with you? I betcha anything you've got something just as weird going on in that little electronic brain of yours. Something you're like, really into.

Nope.

You don't have one interest that goes beyond normal?

Certainly, absolutely, definitely not.

Oh... well then, I guess I owe you an apology. I'm sorry boy.

Thank you, Dog. One final question - would you like some toast?