Penultimate

There it was. The second to last onion in the universe.

"I did tell you," Kryten said, failing to hide an undertone of smugness, "we had a second crate on the lower supply deck. I'm fairly certain I did tell you."

"Yeah, all right." Lister angled his knife carefully, eyeing the vegetable like a stray ball in a game of pool. "I need to get it right, this time."

After a long moment of silence, Kryten pretended to cough. "I'll give the two of you a moment alone, sir."

Lister raised the knife. Hesitated.

Onions grew from bulbs, didn't they?