"Today Jeeves, Binions!"

My heart sank. My interests waitress-wise lay in the pneumatic than the rheumatic and the prospect of tweeting and Man-servanting downtown with only saggy flesh for company, as well as tikay's, did not appeal.

However Master's enthusiasm knew no bounds. Sustained only by sticky buns and lattes for over a week now, the enthusiasm knew no bounds

"1950s cars, Jeeves, in the lobby. All that history. Old Vegas. I love it. Jaffa tells me I have a zest for life and he's right Jeeves. Lets go go go go"

"Is that because you look young there sir?" I enquired

Another withering look, and a day closer to the P45 no doubt

At the appointed hour I stood outside the Rio in the taxi line. Master strode out shortly after me.

"Jeeves, what are you doing? We're not going by taxi today"

Surely we couldn't be walking several miles in this stifling heat I thought. No, it was worse than that

We found ourselves in the queue for the Bus.

"This is the style Jeeves. Did you know Greyhound buses are owned by a British company First Group with annual profits of....."

As the monologue began I found my thoughts drifting away to simpler times, in the service of landed gentry where the prospect of taking a bus was about as likely as seeing a Polar Bear walk down Fremont Street. However I snapped back just as Master was finishing

"..................and sitting over the back axle gets me rather excited Jeeves!"

A fifteen minute journey on the Municipal bus followed, Master explaining the concept of triple range merging and floating to a portly Afro-Caribbean lady just off to do a cleaning shift at the Golden Nugget. Not that she looked too impressed with the concept of floating.

After Master failed to trouble the scorers again we took a pass along Fremont street, pausing to peer inside some gaudy windows, with Master feigning disinterest and my failing to admit that many a mis-spent hour had been enjoyed at Girls of Glitter and the Golden Goose. Declining Master's offer of a Deep Fried Twinkie on the grounds of lack of familiarity we were soon back in New Vegas, safely ensconsed in the Rio environs

Yesterday, a $500 at the Venetian was on the agenda. Master had arranged a last longer with the Sky Poker, analysis by Ms Burberry's hero for nom de plumes the internet over, sponsored Pro. Mr Julian Thew. I had never met Mr Thew but had heard only good things about his breeding, manners and abilities.

The plan was that whoever got knocked out first would buy dinner for the other. I reckoned Mr Thew was onto a good thing. So it proved

Some 45 minutes later Master beckoned me over

"Jeeves, take this to Thewy" and passed me a $5 bill and a Meringue

"Really sir?" I double checked

"Yes Jeeves, settle that last longer. I am out first. This is what my lunch consists of. So we'll settle up that way"

I sought out the man I knew to be Thew who at that moment was himself departing the tournament


"Excuse me sir, Master tikay left the competition just before you. I am ordered to give you these"

I Handed over the crisp bill and the meringue

Thew, tousled hair and unironed T-Shirt no doubt a disguise to hide his presence from adoring fans in the public glare looked at me

"Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are these?"

I stumbled

This could not be Thew, nicest man in poker

I could hardly speak

"Fucking come on, who are you and what are these?"

"Jee-e-e-ves, s-s-s-s-ir. M-e-e-ringue s-s-s-s-ir"

"Do I look like I eat bleeding meringues? Well do I? All I bloody eat is left over fish fingers and baked beans smothered in tomato ketchup. Sixteen kids see, all boys. Tomato Ketchup all over the place. Can I have Ketchup on a Meringue? No i can't. Therefore no use to me"

I was open mouthed. This was a man who by repute liked fine wines and fine food, now admitting to a ketchup craving

I shouldn't of, I really shouldn't, but I did. I asked the question

"You are addicted to Ketchup?"  

He siad nothing, which was just as well given the expletives that he seemed unable to stop uttering, and merely opened an enormous man-bag

Inside, no less than 4 bottles of Heinz57

"Never have kids Jeeves. Never"

and with that he strode off in the direction of the cash tables

Several hours later, as I attending to Master's laundry in the suite, I learned that Thew and Master had dined together. A novel experience for Master, social intercourse in a restaurant environment.

As Master went to bed, and I folded away his clothes I noticed the tell tale signs of the presence of Thew. Yes, Ketchup stains on Master's clothing. I busied myself with the Vanish, and reflected once more that appearances and reputations can be deceptive, even with Poker Professionals.

Master had left the suite for some breakfast, and I could not help but notice that he had several tabs open on his firefox browser to which he had recently switched at the encouragement of the fish fryer from Grantham with whom he had a long standing friendship.

Tab 1



Tab 2



Tab 3



Tab 4



Tab 5

Click to see full-size image.

I wondered what possible blog entry could combine these images, as far as I was concerned none were in Las Vegas.

A short time later Master returned, shoulders slumped, clearly not refreshed by his daily croissant, six breakfast milky lattes and a close up of the kitchen area waitresses

I enquired as to his mood

"Homesick, Jeeves. Missing everything about England. I want countryside, Jeeves, and a cup of tea from Mrs Red. I want Maria to fix my icons and to feed Barry exclusives by the dozen (because of course, he really needs the help)"

He sat down on the three seat sofa and flicked through 137 Television channels. He then continued

"I don't want the bright lights any more Jeeves. Had enough of Chompy and the human beach ball. I don't want to be asked to play Pai Gow by that mafia looking chap seventeen times a day. If Lovejoy shows me how an IPad 2 works once more I think I'll...."

I interrupted him before it got too graphic

"It's ok sir, Scotty is here now, he can be relied upon to sycophantically feed your ego for a few days. Julian is here too. You're bound to enjoy some time with him. Mother Hen arrives on Monday and all your players. You won't have time to be homesick and before you know it you'll be home and Bob's your uncle. If your luck's in"

"Yes Jeeves, I suppose so Jeeves. Today I am going to play another poker tournament just for a change"

"Yes sir, a change is as good a rest"

With that I filled Master's Redex can with his daily dose of meds




Ever dutiful, he opened his mouth wide, and in poured the elixir of life for another day. Immediately perky, he bounded off to the Venetian......

I was awoken from a Snooze by a shout and a holler

"JEEVES! There Jeeves, what do you think to THAT then!"

I looked down at his bed and tikay was pointing at two packets of dollar bills plus some left over.

"Congratulations sir, you cashed again?"

"$2,032 Jeeves. No re-entries. One rebuy"

He smiled and did a little pirouette, pointing at the money

"Stick that in your waistcoat and smoke it, Jeeves"

I raised one eyebrow. Perhaps Master had got the impression that I was less than happy at his success, but on the contrary it was pleasant to see his mood uplifted

After spending seventeen minutes plugging various electronic devices into charge, he announced

"I am in the mood to party Jeeves!"

I immediately handed him his book on the history of Google

"No Jeeves. Party. You know, one of those places. Party"

"Really sir? One of those places? Are you sure?"

"Quite sure Jeeves, lets party"

Fearing this might be a mistake, we readied for our excursion

Some twenty minutes later we were inside "Tassells". I glanced to my left as tikay's eyes were out on stalks at the cacophony of noise and colour that confronted him.

I gestured to him to follow me and we took our seats in a booth

A Pneumatic redhead soon sidled across to take a drinks order. Gin and Tonic for myself, and Master ordered "English tea with two sweeteners please".

We could not talk above the noise so contented ourselves with hand gestures.

After ten minutes of watching and digesting we were joined by two young ladies, Scarlett and Summer. Unable to indulge in small talk, which was probably just as well, we were soon led to a VIP room where we could hear ourselves think

Master was strangely tongue-tied, and perhaps by now yearning for Google, Chris Evans biographies and Bill Bryson.

Not a man for whom patience is a forte when it comes to half clothed ladies, I was nevertheless doing my duty and making polite conversation with Summer whilst all the time quite keen to stuff used $20 bills down her garter belt.

Master on the other hand was not exactly in the thrall of Scarlett, but she did not seem to be taking no for an answer. She rose in front of master and began to dance. Masters arms shot rod straight by his sides as his body tensed. Not knowing where to look he glanced my way with a look of terror.

126 seconds into the song he began to chant, softly at first and then more noticeably

"John Deere tractors are always green!"

followed by

"JCBs are always yellow"

rhythmically in time with the sounds of Mr Jay-Z coming from the soundsystem

Scarlett was not a lady to be put off, but tikay only stopped the chanting when she sat down

As the music stopped for a few seconds I caught him ask her questions as he fumbled for dollars in his pocket

"Those poles? Stainless steel? A composite? Sourced from?"

As she struggled for answers he carried on

"Used to work for Bowmer and Kirkland. Shopfitting. Golf Club Captain. Once banned Jakally. I like Herons. Lovely place Luton Hoo. Have you ever been?"

Ever the professional even Scarlett was by now itching to get away when she was rescued by the sounds of the Black Eyed Peas

Up she rose, and the dance began again

and with that, the by now bolt upright Master began his chant

"John Deere Tractors are always green. JCBs are always yellow."

As the song finished he fumbled some notes into her hand and shot for the exit. I picked up his M and S wool jumper and followed behind.

He did not stop, or take a look back, from Tassells right the way back to the Rio.

Back in his room, straight into bed, eyes screwed tightly shut and as I softly tiptoed over to tidy up his clothing I could hear a soft sound coming from under the sheets

"John Deere tractors are always green, JCBs are always yellow"

After a few minutes he whispered to himself "Goodnight Bob" and his ordeal for the night was over, no doubt never to be mentioned again 

"Excuse me sir, what's this?"

I had been folding my master's clothing at the end of another hectic day, he being in the habit of laying a trail of items from bathroom to bed, when I noticed a slip poking out of a trouser pocket

The item said "Caesars $200 Omaha Jobbie: RE-ENTRY"

"Well, er, just a souvenir Jeeves. Don't get many Re-entry jobbies in England. One for posterity. Ha ha ha"

"How much did you cash for today sir? 14th wasn't it?"

Master looked at his shoes. Well he would have done if he was wearing any. He looked at his toes, already resplendent in anti varicose vein tights ready for bed



"$702 Jeeves"

"$200 entry?"

"Yes Jeeves"

"$200 re-entry?"

Nothing apart from a barely audible mumble came in reply

"$200 re-entry?" I pressed

"Possibly" came the equivocal reply

"I did not see you tweet this, sir?"

Feeling like a headmaster admonishing a recalcitrant schoolboy I carried on

"Always best to be honest sir. You cashed , no one will think any less of you for re-entering"

"No Jeeves, but Jeeves..."

By now the bottom lip was protruding and the bobble on his sleeping hat was sagging preposterously.



 I sensed it was time for horlicks. I sent him on his way to la-la land and dreams of his mate Bob before any petty excuses could be uttered.

I then settled down to write "Postcard from Vegas: Day Six"

To confess on my Master's behalf or give a jolt in the arm to his dropping self-esteem and mention nothing?

Of course I wrote it, warts and all, saving my Master's blushes by suggesting that the card-room wi-fi had gone on the blink at EXACTLY the time that he exited first time round and took his re-entry.

I think I got away with it.

I then busied myself constructing plans to rid ourselves of a hanger on who had taken to following us around for the previous twenty four hours



Open toed sandals, pasty legs, sallow complexion. Clearly a man used to spending time in the dark, but why that should mean he should constantly pester me for film advice due to his writers block, I am not quite sure

Only one week until the arrival of Attila the Mother Hen. This year I sense the Mother Hen of all battles for my Master's attention and affection. My plans to waylay her are advanced though of which more anon

"Look sir, I know it's now eight tournaments and $3,500 of buy ins and you haven't cashed but you mustn't get upset. There there"

Master was distraught in his suite. Another near miss and he was beating himself over his patented trademark move, that used to work in 2001 in Gala Notts, the "Overbet shove to represent weakness". This time he was called and lost. The ignominy was beginning to get him down

"but Jeeves, I know GreekStein will tear me apart for it, yet still I did it. I am such a fool"

I put soothing music on the CD Drive. This time, the soporific beat of a Trans-Australia freight train traversing the continent. Monotous to some, but soon Master was rocking back and forth, happier that he could indeed beat the variance of beating 800 runner tournaments with other people's money over a 20 tournament sample size.

Master then went to sleep for 23 hours, whilst I busied myself amongst the flotsam and jetsam of Vegas detritus. At least I had had my jabs before departing England.

When he woke up, I decided to take it to the next stage.

"Sir, perhaps you should use some visualisation techniques to keep you in the zone while you are at the table, rather than bantering with those 40 years your junior and spending all that time monitoring how many twitter responses you get?"

"Jeeves, you know I am paid per response by the Sky Bet ( bets for bus drivers, odds set by Conductors) people. I must keep twitting"

"Indeed sir, but while you are being a twit, why not relax the mind too? Think of pretty girls, or your cat, or RED-DOG. All your favourite things"

"Fair enough Jeeves. I will try that today. I am playing the Caesars Omaha jobbie at 4pm"

With a spring in his step and a croissant in his man-bag he departed for the action

Staying to do the domestic chores, I awaited the inevitable texts.

Some 90 minutes later, the first one came

"Jeeves. It's working. Visualised DNA. Herons. Why John Deere tractors are always green. Why JCB's are always yellow. Above starting stack"

I hesitated before sending the response I then type out

"Breasts?"

fearing he might misunderstand. This was an unusual man we were dealing with more concerned with the colour schemes of farm machinery than the assets of the fairer sex

I decided to potter down to Caesars, and when I arrived tikay ran over to me like a gambolling lamb

"Jeeves, I've cashed! Cashed Jeeves. Cashed. Jeeves I've cashed"

The weight off his mind was palpable. In Nottingham, evilpie was no doubt distraught. Mere Novice's spreadsheet at last had a use. A return for his stakers but most of all an affirmation that he could indeed beat wheat farmers from Oklahoma, who struggle with two cards let along four, at a game of cards

"Well done sir. Now take it down"

Across the room four idiots from Luton stood with golf bags and three quarter length trousers sniggering. On the other side of the room Mr Dempsey, Mr Perrins and a man with a huge bandage on his head were drinking Cristal out of their shoes.

Little did they know that the last laugh would be on my Master. Not one for demonstrative excesses, he was going to take it down for RED-DOG, for Dingdell, for Ilkeston, Feltham, Mother Hen, Blighty and yes perhaps even his manservant. Nothing could go wrong now.

to be continued........

I'm breathless. Have been twitting all day as, for a change, Master has played for longer than two hours in a poker tournament. As I write, he is still in but the HTC desire battery is flatter than the breasts of the transvestite I unfortunately encountered at close quarters in Peppermints last night. Live and learn.

So I have come back to the suite to escape the tension in the Venetian and update on another busy day.

I was not on Twitter duty first thing today. My instructions were clear

"Jeeves, not sure what to write on my Sky Poker (analysis by fish for the pre-teens) blog today. Any ideas?"

I cogitated

"How about the sights and sounds of Vegas sir? Isn't the blog aimed at those who have never been to Vegas? How about a travelogue type post. All Alan Whicker, or Anneka Rice?"

"Good idea Jeeves, a bit less of the Anneka Rice though, Orford is the new Anneka Rice. I like the idea of Alan Whicker though. Or Michael Palin"

He wistfully looked into the distance until the light bulb in his cranium appeared to switch on

"Tell you what Jeeves, while I play you do Vegas. Take the camera, take some photos, bring them back and I will write my blog"

"Yes sir, of course sir."

So, armed with nothing more than the camera, a floppy hat and my espadrilles I set off, determined to take the images that Master would take. Trains, bridges, aqueducts, ducks, Muntjacs, perhaps a lonely heron looking imperious on a yonder pond. Couldn't be too hard to find on the Vegas strip surely?

Several hours later, I was stumped, and back at the Rio. Panicking slightly and fearing my Master's reaction, I got snapping.

This was my first attempt



Room for improvement, perhaps. Or perhaps not





Newly emboldened by my success, and knowing his eyesight wouldn't allow him to notice the smudges, I fortunately turned round just in time to see something





I wasn't quite sure what it was, and needed to find out. I turned to my neighbour, a lady from Oregon, who told me that it was the "Volcano Eruption" at Mirage. Of course it is madam, thanks. Fortunately Master might just be gullible enough to buy it.

I headed back to the suite, uploaded the photos and went down to the card-room.

In the dinner break I followed my Master back to the suite and looked on proudly as he opened the phot file

"JEEVES?!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE THESE?!!"

I was momentarily nonplussed and managed only a stutter

"p-p-p-p-phots sir, like you asked"

"OF A CAR PARK?"

"y-y-y-yes sir. Nice cars. Shiny. large. Oh and a volcano erupting"

"A VOLCANO IN VEGAS?"

His temper was not abating, and I feared my role was soon to come to an end

Silence for several minutes

"Jeeves, I simply don't have the time to do anything about this, I have to file to Mother Hen in twenty minutes. I'll write something up."

The result appeared on his daily blog under an hour later. Ever the Pro, he had resuced the situation, and no one noticed the potential problem.

Snatching the camera back off me, and putting it in the suite safe, I was left in no doubt that further mistakes were unlikely to be tolerated.

Quietly ironing some Sky Poker, analysis by octogenarians for pre-pubescent fish, polo shirts late last night whilst watching Desperate Housewives my calm was shattered by the arrival of my master.

"Fucking hell Jeeves, Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck"

I wondered what it could be. Could it be that the Ding Dong of hand to hand combat across the felt had reduced him to such a temper?

"No one respects my raises. I can't talk at the table, everyone raises my blinds thinking I am a doddery old fool who only plays Aces.."

"Yes sir...." I interrupted, only to be shot yet another withering look of a type that was becoming characteristic of this trip

"and now Jeeves, my home made card protector has been banned"

"Not the croissant sir?

"Yes the fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking fuck croissant"

"Oh dear sir, why don't you sit down, take the weight off your feet and tell me all about it....."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To make sense, dear reader, of the predicament of my Master we have to go back to early that morning. It was 32c when I parambulated around the Rio pool at 6am, leaving my master alone with his e-mails and blogs for a short period. Come 6.30am there I was, in the Rio media centre alone with my master.



Master seemed perplexed that no one else was there, nose to the grindstone. After all, what esle was there to do in Vegas than play poker and report on poker?

"Jeeves, I'm hungry. Can you get me some breakfast please? Continental breakfast today"

and ten minutes later, I returned with these



"Far too big Jeeves, far too big. Take one back and get a refund"

I must have looked crestfallen at the lack of approval for my breakfast choices, so the Master's backtrack was more forthcoming than usual

"No it's ok Jeeves, I am going to have some fun with this crossiant"

"Fun sir?"

I had travelled across seven continents with a variety of Masters from the sexually flaccid to the sexually disturbed, and I had yet to discover fun with a croissant

"Turn around Jeeves"

I did as I was told, not sure what to expect next

Suddenly I was jolted by a huge cry

"TAAAAA-DAAAAAAA"

I turned round, and saw




Master was chuckling.

"What do you think of that then. Come on, come on"

Years of training at hiding my real feelings came into play as I muttered

"Very good sir. Ha ha ha"

"Come on Jeeves, what does it remind you of?"

Resisting the temptation to suggest that it most closely resembled a croissant with sunglasses on, I dithered

"Come on Jeeves, its obvious"

"Sorry, you'll have to help me sir"

"JEEVES! It's Doyle Brunson of course!"

Tumbleweed sped across the recesses of my mind as I sought another suitable response

"Very good sir. Ha ha Ha"

"Tell you what Jeeves, I am going to use it as a card protector today in the Caesars deepie. Everyone will be most amused"

I thought to myself that amusement woould be one of the least likely emotions, but kept my counsel

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

At 4pm I left my Master at the table, granted a day off from twitting duties, and returned to my chores. What happened next comes from the mouth of my Master later that evening

"I sat down in seat 10. Doyle the Croissant on my cards. A few funny looks. Then after two orbits seat 9 calls for a ruling. Scottish tosser comes up, asks the problem. Seat 9 who is enormous says that Doyle is putting him off. He cannot sit next to any food stuff for longer than 20 minutes without wanting to eat it. Dealer who looks like Giant Haystacks then pipes up that he too is getting hungry. Then seat 8 who is even bigger says that Robert's rules should outlaw foodstuff card protectors"

"I just wanted a little bit of fun Jeeves. Nothing serious. I thought it was funny. Scottish tosser gives me another orbit's penalty and confiscates Doyle. I get knocked out and go and ask for Doyle and guess fucking what Jeeves..."

"Yes Jeeves, the biggest fucking dealer you could ever see has just eaten him and all I get back is my sunglasses"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


I decide to make my Master a late night Horlicks, before going off to indulge in some Horlicks of my own.

"Jeeves wake up wake up, I'm awake"

The now familiar ritual of turning over to check the bedside clock, and it's 4.06am

I must be dreaming

"Wake up man, I'm awake"

4.07am and I open my eyes to the alarming sight of Master standing in front of me in York Railway Museum pyjamas and holding his HTC desire

"Yes sir" donning once more the mantle of professionalism"how can I help?"

"Was awake anyway Jeeves, body clock is messed up and now I see Barry Carter has twitted that Five Brits have been stripped naked and been robbed at gunpoint. Just like ***** and ***** and that idiot ****** five years or so ago"

I wondered why I had to be woken to be told this, when he continued

"Wasn't you was it Jeeves?"

I raised myself up to the full height of indignity and told him that no, as I spent all night tweeting as if I was him from six paces behind, that I was unlikely to have found the time to round up four pals, several ladies of easy virtue, disappear off for a quick orgy and then back for the next orbit. I thanked him for his concern anyway

"Anyway Jeeves, Chompy arrives today. Chompy! Retired from poker because he's useless Jeeves but I have got a special treat for him. Look at these."

By now fully awake I struggled to understand why Chompy would want tickets for the Vegas leg of the Football Focus tour, An audience with Garth Crooks , but he always was strange, like many from the fens



So, it by now being 4.18am the working day began. Master busied himself with emails, diaries and googling Phil Tufnell while I ironed, made his bed and prepared breakfast

Come a few hours later and we were ready to depart from the midday Venetian deepie

My instructions were clear, and delivered in a stentorian voice that if you did not know the Master would convey authority and clarity, unlike the dithering and meekness to which I had become accustomed

"Right Jeeves. Here's the desire. One tweet from me every ten minutes. Chip counts, progress, bit of humour. I have 1,002 followers, many of whom hang on my every word. Maxally and Trip5 would be lost without it, lives bereft of purpose and meaning, see?"

I wrote down my instructions as he continued

"Bring the History of the London Underground book for me to read while I am passing and you are writng down hands that I might have played if you weren't making them up. Today Jeeves I will be making the journey from Hatton Cross and ending at Cockfosters"

Not for the first time, I thought to myself.

We passed into the Venetian over the bridge under which star crossed lovers rode on gondolas. There on the bench on the bridge sat celtic, tenderly stroking Gavlar's hair and whispering to him

"there there Gavlar, you can enter a card-room without walking in hand in hand with someone, and getting felt up. You can do it"

I took up my position behind my Master as the tournament began, and the day continued as planned......

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'VE GOT A ONE ROUND PENALTY?"

"DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?"

From six feet behind and two paces to the left I could see the back of my master's neck had turned bright red. Normally a man of magnaminity and fortitude the ruling just imposed on him by the Caesars tournament director appeared harsh, from where I was sitting.

Master rose. Gathered up his phone, cigarettes, Luton Hoo guidebook and room key in one hand and his all you can eat Caesars breakfast plate in the other, and came and sat next to me

"Jeeves, I was only telling the dealer about Muntjacs"

"Yes sir, I understand. Perhaps though telling him about herons, weirs, aqueducts and cranes first did not help?"

tikay looked at me, momentarily a little boy lost, alone in a sea of incomprehension at the world he faced

"It's only one orbit sir, finish those hash browns and go and win the tournament"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a long day. Spent much of the flight trying to ignore the Scottish celtic fan who insisted on sitting next to my Master and talking to him about Kebabs.

However no sooner did the gentleman return to the back of the aeroplane than I was confronted with the sight of a man known to me now as Gavlar doing a stint as a stewardess and trying to serve me with my lime and soda.

He got short shrift, after all one of the perks of foreign travel is to attempt to sort out an assignation in Nevada with one of Sir Richard Branson's finest and frankly, despite the mascara, basque and horn rimmed spectacles, Gavlar did not quite cut it.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On arrival at McCarran my master and I went our seperate ways from the rabble in economy. We, to the suite in the Rio. They, to the Palazzo. As soon as we were booked into the Rio, tikay was off

"Jeeves, come down to Caesars when you have unpacked. $100 turbo at 4pm, $100 deepie at 8pm. I'll be in one of those"

I began to unpack and was momentarily in nirvana as I attended to my manservant's duties of unfolding and pressing the clothes, storing the toiletries and generally busying myself wondering why a 75 year old man wore socks telling him what day of the week it was.

However I was determined to enjoy the next fortnight, before the arrival of my bitter rival to the position of tikay's main helper, the emboldened and formidable Mother Hen. No doubt she was formulating schedules as I thought, and I was determined to make myself indispensible before her arrival

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I made it down to Caesars. Out of the first tournament my master drew me to one side

"Got ten minutes, Jeeves, need to let you in on something"

"Yes sir?"

"Been staked for this fortnight. About $5,000 worth. Big responsbility"

"Yes sir, best not to get one orbit penalties for talking then sir"

A withering look told me I had gone too far. I waited

"Bit delicate this Jeeves"

I raised an eyebrow, and let him continue at his own pace. As with a lot of old folk, you are never quite sure whether the train of thought is intact or not

"I made up a second forum account called Mere Novice. Called him Vince. Made the account out to be a real geek, good with maths. Thought that way I could make my staking more legitimate if I said he was looking after it. Only problem is I never thought I would get staked. Now I have all this money and I need to keep track of how I am doing. Can you help?"

"Yes sir. Easy first entry yes? Zero?"

Another withering look

"I'll give you the password to the dummy account. To make it look realistic talk about grammar, language and spreadsheets a lot. Only post when I cash"

Comforted that I would not be busy under the guise of my new nom de plume I escorted master to the queue for the 8pm and moved off in the direction of the bar where I was immediately accosted by several ladies. It is never until I actually reach the bars of Las Vegas hotels and casinos that I am reminded of my magnetism to the opposite sex. Unsure of how long I actually had free until the next table penalty and the need for moral support of my master, I declined their kind invitations and settled back to relax.

[Very]

"Jeeves, is that you?"

I looked at the alarm clock by my bed

5.37am

I looked again

Still 5.37am

"er, yes. To whom am I speaking"

"It's tikay Jeeves. Standing in Windsor Great Park. Magnificent, Jeeves. Stags, does, rutting and moulting. Very arousing Jeeves"

"I am sure sir. Sir, it's 5.38am"

"I know Jeeves, best time of the day. Nature at Dawn, six hours work then before midday, then three sleeps before tea time. All on a Ryvita and sixteen Lattes. Diet of Champions"

"Yes sir, how can I help?"

"Going to Vegas again Jeeves, this time for a month. Have laid out twenty eight pairs of socks, boxers and vests
and can't fit my Luton Hoo hardback guidebook in my suitcase now. I need help. I'll double last year's stipend. You in?"

I paused. It had to be said that my current employ with Mr technolog Prime of Leicester had become rather dull. Since the arrival of a very noisy companion, he had rarely left his room and I was rather under-used. 

I was not used to acting on impulse. However, this felt right

"I'm in, when do you need me?"

"Sunday night Jeeves at the hotel. Gatwick. Monday morning flight"

I quickly scrawled a resignation letter and pushed it quietly under mr technolog's door, recoiling slightly at some of the farmyard sounds emanating from the other side of the door

I crept out, and went to Gatwick

Monday dawned and there I was, in a place I must admit I had missed. Six feet behind my master and two places to the left.

tikay informed me that the diet was now over and I was to seek out the largest breakfast in the terminal. This I did and soon tikay was ringing round.

"Jeeves, going to be knocking around with three mates before work starts in a fortnight. Anything they want, take care of it."

I wondered who they might be, and my thought was soon answered as into the breakfast bar strode a rag tag ensemble. I could not believe that they were tikay's companions

Before me stood

- A Gok Wan wannabe idly twisting the strap of a basque under his t-shirt in full view of the restaurant.

- A rotund beach ball of a man, unshaven and wearing a green and white hooped top

- A member of the cast of Goodfellas, creatine in one hand, top man bag in the other wearing a Jonas Brothers t-shirt and full of bluster

I gathered these three clowns were poker players, of sorts, and thankfully were not to be in first class with my master, but unfortunately were in the row alongside me in economy

The Scottish football supporter belched, the Gok Wan lookalike let out a girlish giggle and the Mafia member thrust his chest out and began to drink straight from his bottle of steroids

My master's holiday had begun. 

Entered.

Message for his Grace



I am knee deep in your Nanny. You gave me the night off and no I will not come back and look at the spreadsheet


See you in the morning

Sir

I have left your smoking jacket and slippers in your study, and the my Netbook is ready for your use.

To your left you will see your favourite cigar and decanter of tawny Port

Please remember to switch it off at the conclusion of your no doubt successful evening. Please do not remove the "Amazonian Vixens" tab.

Thank you for the opportunity to take out the Nanny tonight. I do hope the spreadsheet I have built you is to your satisfaction

Kind regards

Jeeves

Master Derrick

My answers as requested


1. Name a recognised child star of the movies

I thought we'd promised to keep the Earl of Arundel's indiscretions on this front a secret Your lordship?

2.  Name a Beatles original UK release studio album

Is this popular music My Lord?

3. Name an Item associated with Christmas

My bonus.

4. Name a member of the top ten England all time money list for poker. (according to THM database on date of reveal)

Harry Chomondley Smythe. A terror at Eton, and a real gadyfly at three card brag until he moved to Pattaya in disgrace in 1983

5. Name an inaugural inductee (2002) into the English football Hall of Fame

Good old Billy Beaumont. Oh, that's rugger

6. Name a current Knight of the British Empire

How is one meant to choose from over 13,000 of them dear chap?

7. Name a college at The University of Oxford

Shall I name 19? Have served at 17 of them

8. Name a Medal event at the 2010 Winter Olympics

Ironing your tweed jacket, your Lordship

9. Name a Film by Martin Scorsese

Taxi Driver for your Lordship?

10. Name a Vice President of the United States of America

Good old George Bush Senior.

11. Name an English Bank Holiday

I don't have any.

12. Name a station on the London Overground Network

Public transport? No, sorry, no idea

13. Name a Game Bird native to Great Britain

Camilla Parker Bowles

14. Name an English Motorway

the M4 of course, gateway to Ascot, Henley and Cheltenham

15. Name a Royal Park in Greater London

Park Royal.



I will be reporting to the Deer pens for duty with Your Lordship in the morning. I do hope your friend the extant duke will be coming.

I am afraid sir, that you have got the order of the press releases the wrong way round, not I.

Don't worry though, I have smoothed it over for you.

Another cotton bud for your ears, sir?