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

[tikay]

Is that eagle jacket from a secret society like the Bullingdon Club?

Excuse me Sir!

That is the Jacket of the Captain of Royal Ormonde Golf Club, no less, the eagle being the Club crest.

Strictly speaking, you are obliged to address me as Mr Past Captain, or Mr Kendall, I'll have you know.

[Supernova]

A peroxide degenerate struggling with indigestion and HTC desire icons by the dozen.

 

[millidonk]

Is that eagle jacket from a secret society like the Bullingdon Club?

Excuse me Sir!

That is the Jacket of the Captain of Royal Ormonde Golf Club, no less, the eagle being the Club crest.

Strictly speaking, you are obliged to address me as Mr Past Captain, or Mr Kendall, I'll have you know.

Ahhhh. it all adds up. Sorry Mr Past Captain Kendall Eagle Sir.

[RED-DOG]

Is that eagle jacket from a secret society like the Bullingdon Club?

Excuse me Sir!

That is the Jacket of the Captain of Royal Ormonde Golf Club, no less, the eagle being the Club crest.

Strictly speaking, you are obliged to address me as Mr Past Captain, or Mr Kendall, I'll have you know.

Ahhhh. it all adds up. Sorry Mr Past Captain Kendall Eagle Sir.

You can just call him 'Past It' for short.

[millidonk]

Is that eagle jacket from a secret society like the Bullingdon Club?

Excuse me Sir!

That is the Jacket of the Captain of Royal Ormonde Golf Club, no less, the eagle being the Club crest.

Strictly speaking, you are obliged to address me as Mr Past Captain, or Mr Kendall, I'll have you know.

Ahhhh. it all adds up. Sorry Mr Past Captain Kendall Eagle Sir.

You can just call him 'Past It' for short.

or Pasty.. failing that Pastie

[Jeeves]

"Jeeves, the time has come" said Master to me over a sticky bun and four lattes in the "Vegas Healthy Eating" Diner yesterday morning

"Yes sir? I did bring the incontinence pants just in case, for this trip"

"Jeeves! Not that time. Mother Hen time. She arrives at McCarran in an hour and I need to get my work head on."

"Yes sir, how may I help?" I offered, determined to at least show willing where matters of the battleaxe were concerned

"You go to McCarran Jeeves, bring Hen and her colleague who is very Bland back to the Rio. I will spend the next couple of hours composing myself and be rip roaring raring to go for Mother. She'll be impressed"

Not wanting to betray that the place I least wanted to be and the person I least wanted to meet were McCarran and Mother Hen respectively, I of course demurred

Recognising that I would have some time to wait in arrivals, such were the queues to enter gambling Paradise, I decided to allow a member of the PussyCatDolls, with whom I had enjoyed a gentle pre-amble behind tassells last night, to accompany me. Not many people could miss her, bright orange top. Could have been an Easyjet, airlines for pillocks by pillocks, employee, I thought to myself. However as my designs on the Pussycat were noit entirely sated, I held my counsel

Soon, Mother and the colleague who is very Bland arrived



She strode towards me with purpose and a steely glare. He strode behind her like Dobby the House elf, it must be said.

I decided to keep my powder dry as this was set to be a taxing fortnight, and "played it straight" with Master's colleagues and dropped them off to settle into their suites on the same floor as ours at the Rio

I went back to the room. No sign of Master. Composing himself indeed. I tried his mobile. No answer. I checked on his forums. Not online. I decided to go and find him

I followed the trail of slight leakage to the Venetian where I found Master kneeling by the side of a 12 seater table, measuring it's length, width and checking the cutlery



"Got to make sure it's just right for the VLV welcome party Jeeves. In my contract. Or one of my contracts. Forget which one hahaha. Here look at this"

and he proferred me a document headed "Sky Poker, Relations Manager contract for pensioners" and showed me page 37

"Clause 63(c) On all client entertaining establishments should maintain the highest standards of cleanliness and ambience. All clients should be at least five feet apart, keep them away from each others wives and make sure you keep Mother Hen off the Gin after 9pm"

The last part had been hastily scribbled in and signed "DD". Clearly there had been trouble in the past.

Later that day with the accompaniment of the Thew-bomber, the man who is bland and the Hen who is fierce my Master ate in the establishment as a road-test if you will.

A man of fussy tastes, who would eat and drink raw caffeine and nothing else if he could, the menu left Master all of a fluster. He showed me it, standing behind him holding the bottle of water and a napkin. I pointed at what seemed like the safest option "Chicken breast"

Soon it arrived



Master looked at me, and sotto voce whispered

"Jeeves, what are these?" pointing at the foliage on which his breast lay

"Vegetables sir"

"On my plate, Jeeves?"

"Yes sir"

"Jeeves, I don't eat vegetables"

This was not strictly true, as occasionally I fed him broccoli in our private moments as if a parent feeding a child food as a train into the mouth as a tunnel, but that did not seem too appropriate in an atmosphere of fine dining and in the presence of the Hen.

"Sir leave the vegetables for now, but I will have a word with the chef and get a doggy bag. We'll make sure you get your five a day with a game of trains and tunnels later"

Momentarily transported to a bygone age, with a wistful look, Master began eating

I, stepping back from the table, feared a long "work head" fortnight ahead.....



 

[Karabiner]

Is that eagle jacket from a secret society like the Bullingdon Club?

Excuse me Sir!

That is the Jacket of the Captain of Royal Ormonde Golf Club, no less, the eagle being the Club crest.

Strictly speaking, you are obliged to address me as Mr Past Captain, or Mr Kendall, I'll have you know.

It looks very much as though Ozzie Osborne had some dealings with the eagle before it arrived at Ormonde Fields.

[elBlandie]

Dobby. I like it. The girls seem to like Dobby.

[lutonrover]

Just to say that this is so funny , fantastic thread sirs ,   wonder what happened to that Wenger clock ........


More please


Rover

[Knottikay]

"Sir, you get a one round orbit penalty for stacking your chips wrong, what do you think the penalty will be for urinating at the table? You know what these Scottish TDs are like"


LOL.   

[Jeeves]

"Jeeves. JEEVES! J-E-E-VVVVVVES!"

The sound from the desk grew ever louder and high pitched until eventually I was forced to stop darning Master's "Wednesday" black and yellow socks in preparation for the morning dressing

I entered the bedroom and there sat Master, exasperated, hands on head

"There you are Jeeves, the Sky Poker laptop won't work, take a look would you"

I sat down and did what all good self-respecting software engineers do for the first hour's labour charge. I switched it off at the mains and went and made a cup of tea while Master relaxed with a DVD of "Great Railway journeys of the world" and a damp cloth.

Switching the computer back on I was confronted by the spinning rainbow of death. On the screen, not on the bed.

I tried calling Sky Poker, seven players in WSOP Main event follow them at www.skypoker.com/wsop, sixteen you tube interviews a day, technical support and interrupted a lady called Patience in Cape Town who did not exactly live up to her name. Then again, it was 4am her time.  

Eventually I had to give up and broke the bad news to my Master, the blow softened by the image of the Trans- India express hurtling across a bridge over the Ganges on the outskirts of Delhi on the Master's TV screen

Nevertheless, this was a disaster. All the photos and emails potentially lost, and "he" had a blog to write. Master began to pace, oblivious to his no doubt wearing out his Tuesday socks and creating more sewing work for me. However I did not interrupt. Eventually, a eureka moment

"Jeeves, I will use my ZX Spectrum personal laptop with the state of the art Internet Explorer 1 browser and Norton 1994 virus protection. However I will need images for the blog. Has to be in within the hour. Go downstairs, take a few snaps while I set up"

I rushed off with the camera phone and came back with the most interesting sights I could find

A queue



Another queue, this time containing Mr David Shallow



Some plugs



A teapot




I returned and uploaded them while Master turned the laptop handle with one hand and held a portable fan to cool it down with the other

I wrote the blog, despite Master's protestations that these were the most boring images I could possibly have taken, and dispatched the blog to Leeds.

Relieved, I did not have much time to rest

"Jeeves, we must rush. McCarran arrivals hall. Seven Sky Poker (follow their progress on www.skypoker.com/wsop) players land in an hour. We must go with Mother Hen to meet them"

I quickly ironed his tattiest blue t-shirt from the bootom of his suitcase and within fifteen minutes we were in the taxi bound for the other end of town.

Twenty four hours after I met my Hen nemesis and Dobby the blandelf I was back again.

The players were due to arrive and Master was worried that we did not have a sign to greet them with, and as he did not want them to miss him he decided to stick a badge on himself as a calling card



Pleased as punch, he ordered I take a photo

Now sometimes it is the role of a manservant to say the difficult things that need saying, to uphold and protect the reputation of the Master. This was one such occasion.

I took a deep breath, and asked for a quiet word with my Master out of the Burberry-hatted earshot of the Mother Hen

This was man's talk.

"Sir forgive me but I feel I should say something"

Master looked at me, eyebrows raised

He waited. I waited

Just as he was about to hurry me up I blurted it out

"Sir, you look like a tit"

Master's back stiffened. He drew himself up to the full height of dudgeon, adjusted his sticky badge and glasses and replied

"That's as maybe Jeeves, but I am Sky Poker's tit. That'll do me"

Turned his back, swivelled a finger in my vague direction as Mother Hen smirked at me with the smug satisfaction of a lady with tricks up her sleeve, and strode off to meet the only man in Vegas older than himself, Andrew 1947

This fortnight was not getting any better.

[Laxie]

Good enough for ya Jeeves.  I did ask ya to come back and help with the domestics around here to leave me at the gardening, but nooooooooooo.  Hope Mother Hen drives ya abso bonkers for the next while.

[Jeeves]

Two days into the Main Event, and Master's life is a whirlygig

Up early in the morning to breakfast with Mother Hen, filming outside all morning, looking after the Sky Poker, rude to make a day two so they dont do it I blame the analyst, players before play. Accosting poker celebrities during play, and then retire to the suite tired some 13 hours later

During all of this I of course keep a watching brief. Or did. That was until Mother Hen decided she had had enough of me standing around fetching lattes, pastries and staring at inflatable assets.

So for the last fifteen Sky Poker, rude to make a day two, you tube interviews I have been gainfully employed on my knees beside Mother Hen. Holding a hairy microphone and pointing it at tikay. All this while the multi-talented Mother holds the camera, directs and goes onto edit the footage.

Editing the footage is quite a task as during take after take Master's waterwork problems are now proving a real barrier to progress. Time after time he whispers to Mother or I.

"Need a few minutes guys, quick comfort break"

During one of these, as he rushed to the rest room I decided to go outside for some air. Standing on the fire escape I immediately recognised that Master must have been desperate, and his bladder is not what it once was



Still, we press on.

Interviews complete we tour the tables. I have camera in hand and whenever we pass a player that takes Master's fancy he shouts

"JEEVES, THIS ONE!"

followed by cries of

 "RAYMER'S WEARING ORANGE AND SANDALS"

"DEMPSEY. TOO THIN. SNAP HIM"

and, most disconcertingly

"NG, PRONOUNCED WIN JEEVES. SNAP HER"

Evelyn turned at this point, gave me a dirty look at Master momentarily hid behind me and I saw her immediately enter "Las Vegas PD. Stalker department"

This probably accounts for the snap not being my best work



My final task for the day is as Master's banker. $5k in here, $1k out there, my ledger has more red ink than a Full Tilt player deposit spreadsheet.

Just one of the many varied duties, on another hectic day

As I write it is past midnight and I am in the ante-chamber listening to the sonorous reverberation of Master's snoring, punctuated by periodic cries of "Yes Mother!" in his sleep

A manservant's day is not complete though. Surrender, here I come.

[Jeeves]

My stint behind the camera was brief, as Mother Hen had other matters to attend to momentarily.

I was in two minds as to whether to risk the sack by revealing this, but I suspect my audience here would appreciate the following



Day after day, Master's bladder weaknesses interrupt his day, and the flow of filming

Still it takes his mind off the hairdryer treatment he gave me this morning for forgetting to do his laundry, leaving him only a green polo shirt to wear. Not too popular with Master, the green shirt, but if I will stay out til 6am clubbing, what can he expect?

It has been a long few days, railing the Sky Poker, analysis by the incontinent for the incompetent, players in Days 1a,1b,1c and 1d. Not forgetting 2a.

Only one embarrasing moment really getting in the middle of a contretemps between my master and a ESPN film crew as he was about to interview Elky. I am afraid I embarrassed myself, asking Elky why she hadn't had any hit singles since "Pearl's a Singer" in 1986 only for Mother Hen to point out to me that a) this was a different Elky and b) this Elky was a man.

I also serve as a useful shield for when Simon Templar appears. Master spots him out of the corner of his eye, no doubt after many year's practice and says

"Back in a minute Jeeves" and totters off round the corner

Templar asks after my Master, peers round my shoulders and satisfied that I am his audience launches into explanations of his poker play that typically last over an hour

I taped one, which I have transcribed verbatim

"I was very rusty, made a few mistakes, not betting at the right time etc, ended first level with 16,000. In level 2 i called a raise of 550 with JJ, sb rr to 2150, initial raiser flat called as did i, flop was 9 8 4, two spades, all checked, turn was a 6, bet of 3600, i went all in for 10,200, he called with AKs for 15 outs, ended level with 28,000 The player to my right was up to 80,000 ! Had a very unusual style, one pot was raised to 525, he rr to 10,800. In SB he made it 1050, i called in BB with 9T, flop was 9 T 4, he bet 3600, i raised to 9000, he went all in, i called, he had KK, doubled up to 52,000, level 4 ended with 57,000"

At this point, there is a pause for breath, and a quick check of a Watches4U catalogue, before he continues

" Last level called a 4 way raise of 900 on button with 33, flop was Q 9 3 rainbow, all checked to me , i bet 3600 and was reraised to 30,000 all in, left me 13,000 if it was set over set, called he had AT ! Picked up flush draw but missed. Up to 80,000, won another with JJ, got check raised by an all in for 12,000 on a 7 9 T flop, he had QQ, turned a J, river 3, ended day 1 with 97,000"

I listen, semi-intently, but hardly prepared for the question that inevitably follows

"What do you think of my play?"

I tell him to go and see Mr Dempsey, a long standing admirer of his, and off he trots, gambolling like a new born lamb in the first part of spring.

I suspect Mr Dempsey might know what to expect, unlike this unsuspecting man



One of Master's players has made it to Thursday's Day 3 so now two days off and a delayed return back to the uncertainty of Blighty.

Not sure what the future holds. I suspect it will be goodbyes at Gatwick, and then waiting for the phone to ring. As long as it is not Leicestershire, Ruislip, Waltham Abbey, Croydon or (shudders) Glasgow, I'll be alright......

[tikay]

Incred!

It has been a long few days, railing the Sky Poker, analysis by the incontinent for the incompetent

And.....

I also serve as a useful shield for when Simon Templar appears. Master spots him out of the corner of his eye, no doubt after many year's practice and says

"Back in a minute Jeeves" and totters off round the corner

Templar asks after my Master, peers round my shoulders and satisfied that I am his audience launches into explanations of his poker play that typically last over an hour

I laughed so much I nearly we....oh, wait....