Ernest Adams contrasts Dramatic Novelty in Games and Stories with an example from Red Dwarf:
RIMMER: So there we were at 2:30 in the morning; I was beginning to wish I had never come to cadet training school. To the south lay water – there was no way we could cross that. To the east and west two armies squeezed us in a pincer. The only way was north; I had to go for it and pray the gods were smiling on me. I picked up the dice and threw two sixes. Caldecott couldn’t believe it. My go again; another two sixes![some time later]
RIMMER: So a six and a three and he came back with a three and a two.
LISTER: Rimmer, can’t you tell the story is not gripping me? I’m in a state of non-grippedness, I am completely smegging ungripped. Shut the smeg up.
RIMMER: Don’t you want to hear the Risk story?
LISTER: That’s what I’ve been saying for the last fifteen minutes.
RIMMER: But I thought that was because I hadn’t got to the really interesting bit.
LISTER: What really interesting bit?
RIMMER: Ah well, that was about two hours later, after he’d thrown a three and a two and I’d thrown a four and a one. I picked up the dice…
LISTER: Hang on Rimmer, hang on… the really interesting bit is exactly the same as the dull bit.
RIMMER: You don’t know what I did with the dice though, do you? For all you know, I could have jammed them up his nostrils, head-butted him on the nose and they could have blasted out of his ears. That would’ve been quite interesting.
LISTER: OK, Rimmer. What did you do with the dice?
RIMMER: I threw a five and a two.
LISTER: And that’s the really interesting bit?
RIMMER: Well, it was interesting to me, it got me into Irkutsk.
As Adams points out, “to an outside observer, Risk is a dreadfully repetitious game.”