CYBER BAT’S MESSAGE
This story was typed by ME and is copied word by word from issue #17 BETTER THAN LIFE
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BY CINDY MARX
The Diary of the Deceased Arnold J.Rimmer, BSc,SSc
I’m dead. I’m a hologram and a smegging scutter is scribbling out this entry. I can’t touch anything and I have to put up with that slob Lister. I get no respect around here and it is impossible to complete any successful revisions due to the constant interruptions from the rabble around me. They’re totally undisciplined. Use an exclamation point there. Half the time Holly can’t even keep my body parts together. He’s constantly corrupting my hologramatic disk and changing my appearance-He really did look like Helen Shapiro. – Bob, what are you doing? Cut it out! Don’t write that! I’m going to-
(As dictated to Holly)
-Gordon Bennet, I’m a computer with an IQ of 6000, and he wants me to take notes for him. I’m not his mum. He’s ranting about how nobody listens to him, I think. Maybe I’ll give him Petersen’s arm again. That’ll shut him up for a while. Probably apologise sweetly to me, as well.-
Now you’re only going to write what I tell you to, aren’t you? What are you writing?
(As dictated to Cat)
(As dictated to Bob)
-Where’s a copy of Film Fun Magzine when you need one?-
…I miss everything about being alive. The taste of fine wine. The feel of inflatable Engird. Those were the days. Now I’m composed of light and at the mercy of a senile computer. Right, that’s enough for today. You can go back on duty now, Bob. Go on, we’re finished. Drop the pen. Drop it!!!!
(A contribution by Lister)
For the sake of posterity, I feel it is my duty as the last human alive to report the incidents of Gazpacho Soup Day as they were explained to me by one deceased Arnold J. Rimmer. It all began on the 25th of November-
(an interruption dictated to Bob)
Lister, I said get out. Leave. This is my personal private diary full of my personal private feelings. I don’t go around reading you diary and getting caught, do I? I’d like some privacy, now please depart. Now where were we, Bob? Er, yes, just write that the day was very dull and there’s no need to mention it again.
(As dictated to Kryten)
-This isn’t a diary, it’s a small off duty Czechoslovakian traffic warden on vacation in the French Riviera. And the man rambling in the corner expecting me to write down his every word is a smeee, a smeeeee HEEEE. Oh blast, I can’t even write it.-
(As dictated to Holly)
- Blimy, don’t know why I’m ‘angin’ round ‘ere. I’ve got better things to do with my time.-….That incident changed my life. If it weren’t for that I’ve have been more successful than all of my brothers combined. Did you get it all? Damned enlighting if I do say so myself. Furthermore,….-I think I’ll go read some Agatha Christie novels. It looks like he’s on a roll.-
(As dictated to Bob)
……then I rolled two sixes. Caldicott couldn’t believe it……
- I could be watching John Wayne movies right now.-
(As dictated to Talki Toaster tm)
NO, I WOULD NOT LIKE ANY SMEGGING TOAST!!!!
-What about the person reading this? Would you like some Toast?-
(As written by the deseased A.J Rimmer, BSc, SSc)
After our brilliant encounter with a genius by the name of Legion, I am now composed of hard light. The science is beyond me, but at least I can enter my own personal private thoughts into my diary. However, before I delve into deepest innermost feelings, I’d better find a place to hide this where no one will ever find it. The A to Z or RD was too obvious. Ah, yes, I know the perfect place.
(Final entry)
