My toaster was laughing at me this morning.
My dogs laughs at me and tells me to do things that I should not do.
LISTER: Kryten, what you doing, man?
KRYTEN: I've just repaired the toaster, Sir. Well, I've nearly repaired the toaster.
LISTER: Oh NO, man! Dismantle him! You don't know what the little bleeder's like!
KRYTEN: Well, I've read all the documentation, Sir. He's simply a talking alarm clock who provides his owner with early morning toast and light conversation.
LISTER: Not this one. This one's mental!
KRYTEN: Sir?
LISTER: He's defective. He wants everyone to eat toast ALL OF THE TIME. He's obsessed with it. And if you don't want to eat, like, four hundreds rounds of toast EVERY HOUR, he throws a major wobbly. That's what caused the accident in the first place.
KRYTEN: What accident?
LISTER: The accident involving me, the toaster, the waste disposal and the fourteen pound lump-hammer.
KRYTEN: That explains why he was down in the garbage hold in three thousand separate pieces.
LISTER: Another thing. He always says "Howdy doodly do." Drives you spare. I mean, what the smeg does "Howdy doodly do" mean?
KRYTEN: Well, just trust me, Sir. My motives will become clear.
He presses some more buttons on the keyboard. The TOASTER lights up and speaks. Its bread-lowering lever moves up and down as it speaks with its mid-Atlantic accent in an impossibly cheerful tone:
TOASTER: Howdy doodly do! How's it going? I'm Talkie -- Talkie Toaster, your chirpy breakfast companion. Talkie's the name, toasting's the game. Anyone like any toast?