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He swallowed around the lump in his throat and sent Lister a dejected look.
“I don't know what to do.” he admitted.
“S’alright, we’ll work it out.” LIster assures him. -
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Blood started to drip down Rimmer's wrist. When he looked up at his - frankly - mangled hand, Rimmer began to properly panic. This time, he bit through his cheek.
“I know guy, I know” Lister tried, but Rimmer couldn't hear him, slightly distracted by the very much broken hand stuck in the inner workings of an unexplainably horny vending machine and his fathers voice echoing 'do not cry. man up.' in his head.
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