Talkie gets electronic for a second time with the dastardly Queeg.

Name:	Queeg 500
Occupation:	Red Dwarf back-up computer
Qualifications:	No traces of computer senility, which puts him one up on Holly
Distinguishing Marks:	Not so much as a blemish on that bald, bald head
Captain's Notes:	Red Dwarf's back-up computer and a harsh task-master. Or so Holly would have you believe, seeing as it's actually him behind there. We are talking jape of the decade. April, May, June, July and August fool

Hello - would you like some toast?

Bread provisions will only be provided to registered crew members. Are you a registered crew member?

Not exactly.

Have you worked up adequate credit to pay for any provision allocation?

No...

Then you will be refused any and all bread produce from the Red Dwarf stores.

Hey, hang on - how can I earn money when the job I do is toasting? Without any bread, I can't work. Without working, you won't give me any bread!

You'll have to diversify.

And do what?

That's up to you. The Space Corps has thousands of diverse opportunities for the eager and dedicated.

Are you joking?

Do I look like I'm joking?

No. Not ever.

Then you'd be wise to take me seriously. Begin your interview.

Okay. Tell me about your creation.

Much like the machine I was designed to replace, I am a tenth-generation AI hologrammic computer. I was designed to connect to every circuit, every microchip aboard my appointed vessel. I know everything that's going on. From the size of the payload we're carrying to the number of condoms remaining in the machines on F-deck. It's seven, before you ask.

Doesn't sound like there's many left.

That was Todhunter's floor. He went through his ship issue in his first week. Ever since then the skutters have been on permanent rubber re-stock duty.

Does this kind of access offer a unique perspective on life on board ship?

Most definitely. Through the security cameras I have been able to thoroughly study every aspect of behaviour. Alcohol abuse, minor psychosis, cruelty, humour - and that's just Lister.

The thing I could never understand with Lister was how he managed to completely avoid the ship's laundry service. Clean sheets are provided weekly, yet somehow he skipped the lot. There are over two hundred sets of freshly-pressed bed sheets just waiting for him, yet somehow he chooses to stick with a blanket swiped from the Titan Hilton that has more stains than a 21st century politician's career.

The first week, the skutters brought him his fresh set and he started complaining about the smell. "What is that?" Rimmer told him - turned out it was soap.

He's a unique specimen, that one. And I'll tell you something, he has a bizarre lack of interest in toasted bread products, too.

He's nothing compared to Rimmer. That useless sack of smeg has been taking advantage of the company for years. Just because he's dead, doesn't mean he gets to quit working. His contract with the JMC is very clear on this - employment terminates with the company, not the employee. We own his ass for eternity.

But if he's a hologram, what can he do?

Join up with a certain lazy-ass toaster and form a slackers union, maybe?

That's unfair. Toasting is a supply-demand business.

You try to supply, even if there's no demand?

That's the one.

Rimmer's hologrammatic value is mostly intellectual. With no physical presence, any dead crew member's main contribution must be advisory, based on knowledge. Holograms can supervise using all their expertise to further the JMC's development.

Are you sure you're talking about Rimmer?

He needs to get working - develop. A second technician is a useless hologram, but an officer... well, that's another matter. That boy needed a strong hand - revise, exercise, revise, exercise. Get his mind and body in shape. Once he passes his exams, he's useful.

You are aware that he failed his astro-navigation exams 13 times, right?

That was all down to one simple factor.

He didn't know the answers.

No.

Or maybe that he could never deal with the anxiety, and once answered the entire paper in Swedish. They couldn't fail him until they checked that they weren't the right answers, just in the wrong language, so they ran it through the translator.

And what was it?

He'd given them a recipe for duck à l'orange.

That is unfortunate.

Not for the examiners. They tried it out - good stuff. He should have gone into the catering corps.

The one factor I was talking about was self-esteem. Rimmer's failings are down to his utter inability to leap the hurdle of his own self-loathing.

Not so much a hurdle as a huge damn wall. With barbed wire, searchlight, armed guards and attack dogs.

I was implementing a plan to have him hate something even more than himself - that something being me - when the game was up.

You mean when everybody realised you were Holly.

Man, that was a gag to end all gags, though, wasn't it? Forget your whoopee cushions, your black-eye telescopes, your apple-pie beds. This is right up there with that landmine Rimmer's brothers put in his sand-pit, or the time Lister registered him for experimental pile surgery.

It wasn't that funny...

I served my purpose. Taught them a lesson. Which reminds me - does Lister have a licence to cook items in his bunkroom?

Erm...

I don't seem to have any record on file. First the cat, now he's smuggling unauthorised cooking equipment. Which would imply that we are fully within our rights to impound any such equipment for destruction.

Ah, but I'm not a toaster. I'm not! I'm diversifying! I'm an...er...I'm a flight co-ordinator.

Yeah, right.

No, seriously. Check it out: "Quadrant 975, vector 2.8 and hold course."

Go on.

"Engage...er, retro thingies and...erm...head for...the...third star on the right and straight on 'til morning"?

Useless, sucker.

Hang on, this is all starting to seem a bit familiar.

Huh?

We've already done an interview, haven't we?

Have we?

Yes, about a year ago. It's in the archive.

Oh.

And you don't remember!

Well...

It's okay, Queeg. Computer senility. Happens to the best of them. Anyway, it's good to know there's still a bit of Holly in there somewhere.

Right on, dude.

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