Author's Note: In an attempt not to be outdone by a certain reddwarfaddict, I too am writing a happy fic to make up for the fact that I lost the bet :(

Rimmer and Lister were skipping down the corridor, arms linked, scattering wild posies when Captain Hollister stepped out in front of them.

"Can I see you two in my office please?" he asked very politely.

"Of course," Rimmer and Lister replied in unison. They skipped into the room and sat down. Hollister pranced over to his desk and took out to envelopes handing one each to Rimmer and Lister.

"In there," he explained, "Are tickets inviting you to a 'Have a sculpture of you made out of solid chocolate' evening, followed by tea and crumpets and a spot of charades before a late night cocoa. Is that OK?"

Lister sighed – if it had been a letter asking him to leave his job he would have been very unhappy as being fired is a bad, bad thing.

"Why, most certainly," Rimmer replied.

"It is only a shame that not more people can come to this spiffing affair," Lister said.

"Oh, on the contrary, David. The entire ship is invited!"

"Oh, marvellous!" Lister rejoiced.

"Yes, now not one person will be left out!" Rimmer said cheerfully, because he thought people being left out was a bad, bad thing.

At that moment Todhunter entered the office, "Sir, enemy warfleet off the starboard bough!"

"Really?" Hollister, Rimmer and Lister all asked in alarm.

"No, of course not!" Todhunter said with a wide smile, "War is a bad, bad thing. It would never happen here."

Rimmer and Lister nodded sagely and stood up.

"If you don't mind, sir," Rimmer said, "We should like to return to duties."

"Why, of course," Lister backed him up, "If the chicken soup machine on floor 5 doesn't get fixed soon I shall…I shall…"

"What?" Hollister asked, batting his eyelashes.

"I shall not eat macaroons for a whole month!"

Rimmer reeled back in shock, "David! How could you?"

Lister just laughed, "Of course I am only joking! Not eating macaroons? Why, I cannot imagine such a life!"

Rimmer laughed also, "Oh, David, you do tease!"

They skipped back down the corridor, their invitations clenched in their hot little hands, smiling at everyone and everything.

The End (or not, because ends are a bad, bad thing.)