Oh God, aliens... Your explanation for anything slightly peculiar is aliens, isn't it? You lose your keys - it's aliens. A picture falls off the wall - it's aliens. That time we used up a whole bog roll in a day, you thought that was aliens as well!
Just 'cos they're aliens, doesn't mean they don't have to visit the little boys' room. Although they probably do something weird and alien-esque, like it comes out of the top of their heads or something.
You'd never get a cat to be a servant. You ever see a cat return a stick? "Hey, man! You threw the stick, you go get it yourself! I'm busy! If you wanted the stick so bad, why'd you throw it away in the first place?"
'Mr Arnold' isn't his name. His name's Rimmer, or 'smeghead', or 'dinosaur-breath', or 'molecule-mind', or on rare occasions when you wanna be really mega-polite to him, and we're talking mega polite here, on those exceptional circumstances you can call him 'arsehole.'
