Full length dress mirrors take up a lot of space. Blue Midgets aren't built to be spacious. Cramming ten full length dress mirrors into a compact ship is no easy task, but it was one the Cat was willing to undertake for the sake of fashion. While Kryten navigated the Midget away from Red Dwarf, Cat wrestled with the mirrors, trying to set them up so he'd be able to see himself at all times. Occasionally he'd be distracted by his own reflection, and would stop to admire it for a while before getting back to work. He finally managed to get the last mirror in place by taking up the fridge and moving it to the rear of the cabin.
Cat stood in the middle of the room to revel in his handiwork. He could see himself from all angles, his image echoing through an infinite series of reflections. There were thousands of him, each as beautiful as the last. He imagined that each reflection was another universe, where somebody looked in a mirror and saw a glimpse of him. They'd probably faint on the spot, then put out their own eyes in the knowledge that they'd never see anything so gorgeous again for the rest of their lives. Then Kryten walked in, and the mirrors caught the mechanoid in their crossfire. If people saw that, Cat thought, they might still put their eyes out, if not for quite the same reason.
"Sir, would it be possible for you to move this mirror?" Kryten asked, indicating the one that was furthest to the back of the ship.
Cat wondered what could possibly be so important that his shrine to self needed to be desecrated. "No it wouldn't. Why?"
"It's blocking the rearview mirror. I suppose we could leave it there, if you insist, but if we get pulled over, we'll almost certainly get a ticket for it."
Cat turned his head this way and that, admiring his latest hair-do. "I'm willing to take the risk, bud."
Kryten looked between him and the mirror, receiving no attention from the feline. "If I may ask, sir, what is the aim of this activity? ...Sir? Hello?" The Cat, mesmerized by his own gaze, jumped when Kryten waved a hand in front of his face. "My rudimentary understanding of recreational activities has lead me to find that there is usually some end to be achieved, whether it be getting drunk out of one's skull or pinning a pointy stick on the picture of a scantily clad woman who purports to forecast the weather. I wanted to know what yours was."
"You're asking me why I like looking at myself? Bud, the answer's staring you in your so-called face. After I was made, God broke the mould, threw in the towel, left the building and locked it behind him."
"Are you really going to keep this up for the entire twelve hour trip?" Kryten asked, worried that he'd have to leave a space around the Cat when he mopped the floor.
"As much as I'd love to, I got a busy schedule to stick to. I have a nap coming up in half an hour, followed by you serving me lunch, and somewhere in there I have to come up with the time to respray this place. I can't let my scent fade, otherwise people will forget who this big shiny thing belongs to. In fact," Cat said, checking his watch, "I should probably get a head start on that nap." He struck one last pose, then headed for the cockpit, walking backwards and throwing kisses to the mirrors. He settled down in one of the passenger seats, tilted back so he could drift off comfortably.
Kryten started cleaning the glass on the mirrors, contemplating as he scrubbed. Mechanoids weren't built to sense beauty in others. They had to be able to tell people apart, certainly, but as far as telling if a humanoid was attractive or not, most droids not designed to aid in the fashion business were out of their depth. He could find the shape of a toilet bowl or a vacuum cleaner appealing. Maybe if somebody's face resembled a really well-made feather duster, the kind where the feathers didn't fall out all over the place, he might begin to grasp the concept.
It certainly was a fascinating concept, vanity. Kryten searched through his internal library for information on the phenomenon. It was usually considered a character flaw, although small doses of it seemed to be beneficial. Whatever it was, it was outside of his programming. Kryten wiped the last smears of cleaning fluid from the mirror he was working on and tried simply looking at himself. It didn't really do anything for him, other than waste time he could have spent cleaning. Perhaps he'd acquire the taste with practice. Mr. Lister would be so proud of him if he could pick up a bad habit all on his own!
He determined to keep practicing mirror gazing. Kryten also tried to think of other manifestations of the trait. He picked up a comb that the Cat had left behind and raised it to his head, only to remember that he didn't have any hair to use it on. "This is just silly. I really should focus on my chores."
The inside of Blue Midget resembled a day-care center at the end of the day, with all the little oddments lying around just begging to be put away. Kryten tried organizing as best as he could, although he couldn't really see any reason that a wig, a stuffed hippo, or a book about Spot the Dog should be on board. He put the wig on the hippo and set it up on a shelf with the book as though it were reading it.
Then he stopped to consider the wig. It was an instant headfull of long red curls. Kryten supposed he could give it a go, since nobody was looking. He put it on and started combing, not really sure what he was supposed to be thinking of it. It might be considered relaxing, the rhythmic stroke of plastic tines through waves of synthetic follicles. Was narcissism supposed to be calming? Was that it's appeal?
"Oh, jellyfish!" Kryten exclaimed when the comb became snarled in his curls. Maybe this wasn't so relaxing after all. It certainly wasn't relaxing when, as he was struggling to work through the tangle, the ship suddenly stopped moving, and he flew with a crash into one of the mirrors at the front of the cabin.