An account of Jeeves' trip to Las Vegas latterly in the service of Mr tikay.

[Jon MW]

Tuesday 9.30am


His mood is even worse today.

Verbatim, he has just had the following conversation with me on the way to the Media Area

"Jeeves, what on earth does Kinboshi mean by On here tikay engages his viewers/readers/audience/groupies, talks about things in his own inimitable style, joins in a dialogue with those who respond, etc.  It's what he does well - and people love it.  ?"

"I'm not sure sir, why not ask him?"

"I can't ask him Jeeves, can I? I'll ring him up and get 20 minutes on the Hadron Collider, 10 minutes on the holocaust, 20 minutes on homeopathy, 12 minutes on religion and then 36 minutes on do I know anyone that wants a bleeding portrait photographer in Nottingham"

tikay paused as his step quickened and then the monologue resumed

"I've had enough of forums Jeeves. RNG this, rigged that. Everyone is so unintelligent. I just want to get my twitter count up and now I being told everywhere about my inadequacies on it and...Oh Jeeves!"

Just as tikay's bottom lip jutted out the tell tale sign of an incoming email alert punctured the silence. tikay looked at the screen and let out an audible sigh of frustration.

"Listen to this google alert Jeeves. On "Ladies in Poker forum" they are having a discussion on which Tena pads are best to wear when 3-betting light Out of position to an aggro raiser.  Jeeves, why don't they all talk about trains and cranes and bridges and nature and all the wonderful things the world has to offer?"

I was struggling for an answer, but I thought that it was best to be placatory at this point or else the day could become unbearable

"Sir, just be true to yourself, post what you like, do the best job you can. Don't worry about anyone else. If you lead, those you want to follow will follow. Don't worry yourself about the inner machinations of the man on the Clapham Omnibus, just be true to yourself"

"Yes but Jeeves" tikay cried. "Look at this..."

and he thrust the mobile internet screen close to my face. There, in front of me was the latest tweet from Stephen Fry which read

"Time for Cardiff Uni ceremony. The darlings are making me an hon fellow. Sweet Matthew Rhys & Michael Sheen have given me Welsh to say. Eek!"

I looked across at tikay. I feared an explosion was nigh

"Darlings, Jeeves! Darlings! That's the sort of model I am meant to follow. No Jeeves, I can't do it. Sod Kinboshi. Sod Boldie. Stuart Bipkin Binking Hopkin can do one too. I've had enough Jeeves. I will go and take my photos and tweet my tweets and listen to no one"

and with that he strode off, myself struggling to keep three paces behind and one pace to the left.

A long day ahead did indeed beckon.

Worse - he'll bang on & on & on & ON about "speed does not kill", when it's patently obvious to even the dumbest of dumb that it DOES.

Blood pressure rising inexorably here.

It's not me, it's everyone else, don't you see?

I said 'speeding' doesn't kill. 

Yes, repeatedly, & monotonously, mantra-like.

Obviously not often enough, as you continue to misquote me.

Yes, yes , yes - we know and you can stop going on about it.

We've got the message, no need to repeat it.

We'll even spread the word to help you

 Jesus doesn't kill; and speeding doesn't exist

[GreekStein]

lol Kin got pwned haaaaaaard

[mondatoo]

lol Kin got pwned haaaaaaard

This haha,wpwp.

[kinboshi]

Tuesday 9.30am


His mood is even worse today.

Verbatim, he has just had the following conversation with me on the way to the Media Area

"Jeeves, what on earth does Kinboshi mean by On here tikay engages his viewers/readers/audience/groupies, talks about things in his own inimitable style, joins in a dialogue with those who respond, etc.  It's what he does well - and people love it.  ?"

"I'm not sure sir, why not ask him?"

"I can't ask him Jeeves, can I? I'll ring him up and get 20 minutes on the Hadron Collider, 10 minutes on the holocaust, 20 minutes on homeopathy, 12 minutes on religion and then 36 minutes on do I know anyone that wants a bleeding portrait photographer in Nottingham"

tikay paused as his step quickened and then the monologue resumed

"I've had enough of forums Jeeves. RNG this, rigged that. Everyone is so unintelligent. I just want to get my twitter count up and now I being told everywhere about my inadequacies on it and...Oh Jeeves!"

Just as tikay's bottom lip jutted out the tell tale sign of an incoming email alert punctured the silence. tikay looked at the screen and let out an audible sigh of frustration.

"Listen to this google alert Jeeves. On "Ladies in Poker forum" they are having a discussion on which Tena pads are best to wear when 3-betting light Out of position to an aggro raiser.  Jeeves, why don't they all talk about trains and cranes and bridges and nature and all the wonderful things the world has to offer?"

I was struggling for an answer, but I thought that it was best to be placatory at this point or else the day could become unbearable

"Sir, just be true to yourself, post what you like, do the best job you can. Don't worry about anyone else. If you lead, those you want to follow will follow. Don't worry yourself about the inner machinations of the man on the Clapham Omnibus, just be true to yourself"

"Yes but Jeeves" tikay cried. "Look at this..."

and he thrust the mobile internet screen close to my face. There, in front of me was the latest tweet from Stephen Fry which read

"Time for Cardiff Uni ceremony. The darlings are making me an hon fellow. Sweet Matthew Rhys & Michael Sheen have given me Welsh to say. Eek!"

I looked across at tikay. I feared an explosion was nigh

"Darlings, Jeeves! Darlings! That's the sort of model I am meant to follow. No Jeeves, I can't do it. Sod Kinboshi. Sod Boldie. Stuart Bipkin Binking Hopkin can do one too. I've had enough Jeeves. I will go and take my photos and tweet my tweets and listen to no one"

and with that he strode off, myself struggling to keep three paces behind and one pace to the left.

A long day ahead did indeed beckon.

Worse - he'll bang on & on & on & ON about "speed does not kill", when it's patently obvious to even the dumbest of dumb that it DOES.

Blood pressure rising inexorably here.

It's not me, it's everyone else, don't you see?

I said 'speeding' doesn't kill. 

Yes, repeatedly, & monotonously, mantra-like.

Obviously not often enough, as you continue to misquote me.

Yes, yes , yes - we know and you can stop going on about it.

We've got the message, no need to repeat it.

We'll even spread the word to help you

 Jesus doesn't kill; and speeding doesn't exist

There is need to repeat, as I obviously didn't make myself clear the first/second/third time.

Anyway, more from Jeeves please.

[Jeeves]

Wednesday 2.43am


Sometimes you are just asked to do things beyond the call of Duty. Now is one of those times.

I am currently standing outside "Ross, Dress for less" a discount clothing store on 516 S Decatur Blvd

"Why?" I hear you, loyal faithful readers, cry.

Well, tikay has run out of "knickers". Not that I am prone to such outbursts but I am afraid that when I was informed of this fact at midnight, and that he required new underwear to be on his bed at 6am his Vegas wake up time, I let out an involuntary "Fuck my Life".

Of course there was only one thing for it. Armed with two $50 notes from the boss, there was no option but to queue up outside the only clothing store in Nevada to open at 5.30am.

It's surprisingly cold at 2.30am outside in Vegas. Just me, the odd vagrant, Liv Boeree staggering home to some abode or other and Phil Hellmuth and the WPT girls practicing their entrance to the next event in a nearby car-lot disturb the eerie silence of a night back-lit by the lights from the strip a few miles away.

Yesterday was a roller-coaster of emotions for the "team", as I now feel we can call ourselves.  It began of course with tikay in a mood with all and sundry. By the end of the day though one of the Sky Poker, where fish are fish and where tikay will claim anyone who has ever heart of Rupert Murdoch as a member of the Sky WSOP Player "team", "team" had cashed with average chips. In addition a further player with the slightly ungrammatical name of "LOLUFOLD" had cashed, and with big chips too. This had transformed the mood of the boss. Suddenly it was "the best day ever" "amazing". Poker was a "great game". As a stream of optimistic consciousness spewed forth from his mouth I was told that "poker forums are great", "players have every right to question RNG's on sites" and "I've always loved Bennythedip on that TalkSport place".

I am reminded of the words of Clarise in the Girl Bar Las Vegas, situated in the Krave nightclub on 3663 Las Vegas Boulevard, where I happened to just spend a very pleasant 90 minutes on my way to South Decateur.........."Whatever". A phrase uttered in response to my request to spend extra to have my face pressed into her chest in an asphyxiation scenario for at least fifteen minutes.

Anyway, I digress. The performance of "LOLUFOLD" in particular had Mother Hen, strangely not spending the day by the pool nursing a hangover, scrambling to re-arrange flights back home because, as tikay opined:

"Well, Jeeves, LOLUFOLD has played some hands on Sky Poker, where fish are fish and we'll get positive PR out of this trip if it kills us, since we launched. That makes him ours. Mine. Ours. Now out of the way, I have to interview him, quickly".

Off he swept, cameramen and the weary Hen in tow, a one man Duracell bunny with calves like a Tour de France cyclist, to interview Mr LOLUFOLD, who hadn't actually done much LOLling or FOLDing in the previous four days, which accounted for his unfeasibly large chip-stack.  

So, now two and a half hours until the shop opens. Boeree has now vacated the scene, and Hellmuth has gone quiet. It's a time for reflection. Trying not to reflect on tikay's request that "any Knickers you buy must have pictures of steam trains on them". I fear that request might be impossible to fulfill. Instead to reflect on a trip nearly ending, and leading to an uncertain future for myself.

I trust that tikay, LOLUFOLD and that nice lady from Grimsby are sleeping well. I trust I will be on a percentage for these extra duties I am rendering in the service of the man they all admire so much.  

 

[EvilPie]

Tuesday 9.30am


His mood is even worse today.

Verbatim, he has just had the following conversation with me on the way to the Media Area

"Jeeves, what on earth does Kinboshi mean by On here tikay engages his viewers/readers/audience/groupies, talks about things in his own inimitable style, joins in a dialogue with those who respond, etc.  It's what he does well - and people love it.  ?"

"I'm not sure sir, why not ask him?"

"I can't ask him Jeeves, can I? I'll ring him up and get 20 minutes on the Hadron Collider, 10 minutes on the holocaust, 20 minutes on homeopathy, 12 minutes on religion and then 36 minutes on do I know anyone that wants a bleeding portrait photographer in Nottingham"

tikay paused as his step quickened and then the monologue resumed

"I've had enough of forums Jeeves. RNG this, rigged that. Everyone is so unintelligent. I just want to get my twitter count up and now I being told everywhere about my inadequacies on it and...Oh Jeeves!"

Just as tikay's bottom lip jutted out the tell tale sign of an incoming email alert punctured the silence. tikay looked at the screen and let out an audible sigh of frustration.

"Listen to this google alert Jeeves. On "Ladies in Poker forum" they are having a discussion on which Tena pads are best to wear when 3-betting light Out of position to an aggro raiser.  Jeeves, why don't they all talk about trains and cranes and bridges and nature and all the wonderful things the world has to offer?"

I was struggling for an answer, but I thought that it was best to be placatory at this point or else the day could become unbearable

"Sir, just be true to yourself, post what you like, do the best job you can. Don't worry about anyone else. If you lead, those you want to follow will follow. Don't worry yourself about the inner machinations of the man on the Clapham Omnibus, just be true to yourself"

"Yes but Jeeves" tikay cried. "Look at this..."

and he thrust the mobile internet screen close to my face. There, in front of me was the latest tweet from Stephen Fry which read

"Time for Cardiff Uni ceremony. The darlings are making me an hon fellow. Sweet Matthew Rhys & Michael Sheen have given me Welsh to say. Eek!"

I looked across at tikay. I feared an explosion was nigh

"Darlings, Jeeves! Darlings! That's the sort of model I am meant to follow. No Jeeves, I can't do it. Sod Kinboshi. Sod Boldie. Stuart Bipkin Binking Hopkin can do one too. I've had enough Jeeves. I will go and take my photos and tweet my tweets and listen to no one"

and with that he strode off, myself struggling to keep three paces behind and one pace to the left.

A long day ahead did indeed beckon.

Worse - he'll bang on & on & on & ON about "speed does not kill", when it's patently obvious to even the dumbest of dumb that it DOES.

Blood pressure rising inexorably here.

It's not me, it's everyone else, don't you see?

I said 'speeding' doesn't kill. 

Yes, repeatedly, & monotonously, mantra-like.

Obviously not often enough, as you continue to misquote me.

Yes, yes , yes - we know and you can stop going on about it.

We've got the message, no need to repeat it.

We'll even spread the word to help you

 Jesus doesn't kill; and speeding doesn't exist

There is need to repeat, as I obviously didn't make myself clear the first/second/third time.

Anyway, more from Jeeves please.

Don't let him get the last word Jon.

He'll think he's won if he does.

That's how his little mind works.

[Jon MW]

Tuesday 9.30am


His mood is even worse today.

Verbatim, he has just had the following conversation with me on the way to the Media Area

"Jeeves, what on earth does Kinboshi mean by On here tikay engages his viewers/readers/audience/groupies, talks about things in his own inimitable style, joins in a dialogue with those who respond, etc.  It's what he does well - and people love it.  ?"

"I'm not sure sir, why not ask him?"

"I can't ask him Jeeves, can I? I'll ring him up and get 20 minutes on the Hadron Collider, 10 minutes on the holocaust, 20 minutes on homeopathy, 12 minutes on religion and then 36 minutes on do I know anyone that wants a bleeding portrait photographer in Nottingham"

tikay paused as his step quickened and then the monologue resumed

"I've had enough of forums Jeeves. RNG this, rigged that. Everyone is so unintelligent. I just want to get my twitter count up and now I being told everywhere about my inadequacies on it and...Oh Jeeves!"

Just as tikay's bottom lip jutted out the tell tale sign of an incoming email alert punctured the silence. tikay looked at the screen and let out an audible sigh of frustration.

"Listen to this google alert Jeeves. On "Ladies in Poker forum" they are having a discussion on which Tena pads are best to wear when 3-betting light Out of position to an aggro raiser.  Jeeves, why don't they all talk about trains and cranes and bridges and nature and all the wonderful things the world has to offer?"

I was struggling for an answer, but I thought that it was best to be placatory at this point or else the day could become unbearable

"Sir, just be true to yourself, post what you like, do the best job you can. Don't worry about anyone else. If you lead, those you want to follow will follow. Don't worry yourself about the inner machinations of the man on the Clapham Omnibus, just be true to yourself"

"Yes but Jeeves" tikay cried. "Look at this..."

and he thrust the mobile internet screen close to my face. There, in front of me was the latest tweet from Stephen Fry which read

"Time for Cardiff Uni ceremony. The darlings are making me an hon fellow. Sweet Matthew Rhys & Michael Sheen have given me Welsh to say. Eek!"

I looked across at tikay. I feared an explosion was nigh

"Darlings, Jeeves! Darlings! That's the sort of model I am meant to follow. No Jeeves, I can't do it. Sod Kinboshi. Sod Boldie. Stuart Bipkin Binking Hopkin can do one too. I've had enough Jeeves. I will go and take my photos and tweet my tweets and listen to no one"

and with that he strode off, myself struggling to keep three paces behind and one pace to the left.

A long day ahead did indeed beckon.

Worse - he'll bang on & on & on & ON about "speed does not kill", when it's patently obvious to even the dumbest of dumb that it DOES.

Blood pressure rising inexorably here.

It's not me, it's everyone else, don't you see?

I said 'speeding' doesn't kill. 

Yes, repeatedly, & monotonously, mantra-like.

Obviously not often enough, as you continue to misquote me.

Yes, yes , yes - we know and you can stop going on about it.

We've got the message, no need to repeat it.

We'll even spread the word to help you

 Jesus doesn't kill; and speeding doesn't exist

There is need to repeat, as I obviously didn't make myself clear the first/second/third time.

Anyway, more from Jeeves please.

Don't let him get the last word Jon.

He'll think he's won if he does.

That's how his little mind works.

I wouldn't want to stoop to his level

[GreekStein]

Don't let him beat you. What kind of message does that send out to British cowboys everywhere?

[tikay]

It's a little spooky when my manservant knows so much of my intimate secrets.

I lolled hard at the BennyDip & TalkSport reference, a secret I've only shared with one soul. Good work, Jeevs, now I may be able to tell the story, in my Diary. Which I shall much enjoy.

Now, I have work to do.

[Jeeves]

Friday 3.33am

Tomorrow our journey ends, and we fly back to Gatwick in time for tikay to hot-foot it straight the the "Luton £100 jobbie"

He will be doing this in brand new underwear. I hope he is grateful. I however was not too grateful when on my arrival back at the Rio suite yesterday morning I was presented with the site of tikay standing in front of me holding a thin white bag. I could see from a distance that it had faint green writing on it. I approached and tikay gingerly handed the bag to me.

On the bag I could see that we could launder shirts for $4 each, pants for $6 each, shorts for $2 each and the list went on.

"Jeeves" said a bleary eyed tikay shorn of underwear and frankly not the most arresting sight after a night's queueing outside, "I never knew that hotels would clean your clothes for you. If i had known I wouldn't have sent you out for new undergarments"

It took every fibre in my substantial being not to let out an expletive. I had assumed that it was tikay's legendary fastidiousness and the secrets held within his underwear that had meant that he was reluctant to hand over his dirty clothing to an unspecified third party without a properly drafted legal agreement as to privacy drafted by the Sky Poker, where fish are fish and cojntracts are legally binding but blonde Poker never gets paid, legal team. However, no, despite years of itinerant living in airport hotels the world over he was simply unaware of this added value service offered by hotels. FML indeed.

Of course yesterday the last qualifier in tikay's care departed the WSOP Main event and therefore the burden of work that had sat so heavily on the weary master was finally lifted. I was sent upstairs to pack whilst tikay went off to play some final tournaments. Only this time one hopes without time penalties. I will report back when he finally returns for one last night's slumbers in his aircraft carrier sized bed which, frankly, is wasted on him. However it wasn't wasted on me, Cassandra and Juliette earlier. However I won't tell if you don't.

So my thoughts turn to the future. I have been conducting telephone interivews with potential employers. One such, a "Dingdell" asked me quite the strangest question I have ever been asked in a job interview:

"Mr Jeeves, would you be willing to be a guinea Pig if required?"

My mind raced. What on earth could she mean? I had been asked to participate in various scenarios over the years but the thought of being stuck in a pen with nothing but a bowl of lettuce was a new one on me. I sought clarification and was told

"New hose techniques Jeeves. Lube, soothing whale music, I talk about Gazza in an excited voice and whoops-a-daisy up it goes"

My silence lasted slightly longer than it should have done I felt. Eventually I broke the silence only to decline the kind lady's offer and instead I moved on to the next phone call I had to make.

"Paparestis" my note said. Greek family. Dulwich. Troublesome son in need of intellectual guidance apparently. However from the note I could see I needed to speak to the father

I rang the number and eventually a young lady answered.

"Can I speak to Mr Restis please?" I enquired in my best speaking voice, keen to make a good first impression.

I could hear a muffled voice shouting, indicative that a hand was over the phone

"Dad, yes but no but some fella wants you I fink yes but no but, come on dad. Posh geezer yes but no but innit". This must be the daughter, but my concern was to be for the son I gathered, the real headcase about which I had been contacted

Eventually a kindly voice was on the line

"Is Paparestis here hellos peeps" said a heavily accented voice

"Hello Mr Restis this is Jeeves and I am calli...."

I was interrupted

"What you mean? My name is Paparestis"

"I know Mr Restis, you are the head of the family, father to your children and owner of most of East Dulwich according to the background check I have done on you via my friends in Interpol"

"Interpol? Interpol what you means man?" said a now indignant voice "I am Paparestis not Restis. Are you taking the mickey taking mans?"

"No sir, so you are not Papa Restis but Paparestis?"

I think at that point I had lost him. Speaking sotto voce to someone I assume was his son he said

"Is wankers Costantine, wankers I tells you. Why wankers always bother me?"

Then a younger voice came to the phone

"Blatch, its not fucking Blatch is it?"

"No sir, it is Reginald Jeeves, I am contacting your father about the potential manservant position to Costantine Paparestis"

He replied "Well why didn't you say that you numpty? Are you sure this isn't BipkinBopkin or Tittyhead or CheekyPrewdiePants?"

"Pardon sir?" Even I was now getting confused.

We started again. The son explained to the father that there had been an unavoidable confusion based around the rather immature desire of myself to make a cheap joke in writing about the family surname

The father came back on

"My son. Tearaways. Irresponsibles. Good job in a media agency but spends all days picking fights, all nights wastings his monies and I wants him to settles down, finds a nice girlie, give me grandchildrens and stop handing over my money to con-mens"

"Well yes sir, I think I may be able to help. After all at heart I think your son may be 24 Carat gold at heart. A Ha Ha"

Sadly the clever wordplay working to complement the son's character and tie it in with the name of his employer was clearly wasted as once again the shout went up down what I assumed was the Marble hallway

"Costantine he's fuckings at it agains!"

Nevertheless I rescued the situation and a few minutes later the terms of my potential stipend were settled, and I was given twenty-four hours to make a decision.

So here I sit, alone in a Rio suite. tikay off who knows where. Some 18 hours left to make a life changing decision. Still no indication from tikay as to whether he wishes to retain my services. A job offer in hand from elsewhere but serving both a high maintenance father and a tearaways son.

Which way would you decide? I will leave it in your hands

[booder]

Brilliant,just brilliant.

[kinboshi]

[GreekStein]

LOOOOOL absolutely pissed it!

Amazing!

P.s. My dad has a laaaaaandaaaaaaan accent (born and bred here)

[Chompy]

Perhaps your finest work yet sir. Loved this line...

"New hose techniques Jeeves. Lube, soothing whale music, I talk about Gazza in an excited voice and whoops-a-daisy up it goes"

Ever considered writing a sitcom?

[Claw75]

lol excellent work Jeeves.  It sounds like the Restis family could really use your help.  I should take up their offer of employment if I were you.