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

[vegaslover]

I want to be there when Jeeves caddies for Tikay.

More chance Jeeves finding the time to be there than Tikay surely

[Simon Galloway]

Well, he's meant to be on holiday for the first couple of weeks...

[Jeeves]

I answered with a startled mumble

"Jeeves?"

I looked at my bedside alarm clock, it was 5.30am

"Jeeves!"

The voice was more insistent

"Y-y-y-yes" I stumbled, my wits not yet about me

"tikay here. In the office. You can't still be in bed? We leave on Sunday"

"Yes sir" suddenly alert, as my brain kicked into action

"LGW Jeeves, LGW. Did you get the Heathrow pics I sent you, you know, the 747 undercarriages as they passed above me? Sexy Jeeves, very sexy"

I opened the email attachment. Sexy indeed

 

Alongside the attachment was the list of tikay's demands, his rider, for the month long trip to the land of broken dreams. I had spent the last few days methodically purchasing all the items, whilst simultaneously trying to sell two hundred weight of beetroot and pineapples onto e-bay, as my advanced purchases of said items had been proved redundant. tikay had told me that the diet was off, as soon as he set foot on the plane, and therefore his previous list was moot.

"Looking forward to it, sir. List purchased. See you at Gatwick"

Silence reigned down the end of the phone in Osterley, as no doubt a senior moment was being had in the daydreams of the boss, full of undercarriages and 747 embompoints, no doubt.

"Good Jeeves. See you at Gatwick. Mixed games Jeeves, mixed games. They will be the focus of my trip until the Sky Poker (Cash for points for fish, analysed by fish) players arrive. I intend to cash this time"

"Unlike last time, sir?"

I immediately regretted my statement, which slipped out by accident

"Jeeves!" a stern voice now "I'll have you know some idiot snapped my all in with 7-2 off at the weekend, then I played a flopped straight in Irish so bad and...."

I cut him off. If I was to spend the month upcoming in his ante-chamber listening to outdraw stories and cement anecdotes, the last thing I was going to do was listen at 5.41am on a Tuesday morning.

"So sir" changing the subject with a skill honed over many years of working with crashing bores

"I have a tip for you, for that marvellous thread. Carroll to be top English goalscorer in the Euros......"

and with that all I heard was the dialling tone as the phone slammed down.....

I went to check my contract for this trip......

[Marky147]

 

[celtic]

[bobby1]

A warm welcome on your return to employment Jeeves. Now Mr Teeks is looking like Brad Pitt's dad, all buff and cool do you think you could include any racy incidents that occur this trip. If you have a moment in between flogging pineapples could you regale us with your favourite moments from past trips and any highlights and lows?

[Knottikay]

Oh my.......the only reason I read this dreadful forum is back!

looking forward to the wordage over the coming month.

Please learn how to do spreadsheets in excel Jeeves to record all his cashes............ or a blank word document will probably suffice.

[Laxie]

Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   Jeeves is back!!! 

We've missed you Jeeves  xx   

[MereNovice]

Excellent service Jeeves.

[Chompy]

 

[kinboshi]

"tikay here. In the office. You can't still be in bed? We leave on Sunday",...

<snip>

...the last thing I was going to do was listen at 5.41am on a Tuesday morning.

[Jeeves]

"Jeeves Jeeves JEEVES"

The voice down the end of the phone was getting more and more insistent, for the second day running

"I've arrived at Sky studios for the show tonight, and none of my clothes fit

Need you to get to Hampton, asap, then hot foot it over to Osterley and hand me over some of my clothes"

I sighed. My contract did not start until the weekend and the peroxide diva was already in full flounce mode

However, ever the professional...."Yes sir, where will I find the key?"

"Underneath the Isambard Kingdom Brunel statue to the right of the front door, Jeeves. Should only take you about twenty minutes to shift it slightly"

"Yes sir". My day of tending my allotment rudely shortened, and all the result of a starvation diet

I arrived at Hampton, driving the two miles up tikay's front drive past the flock of Canadian Geese gently pecking the lawn.

Fifteen minutes later, I had moved the statue. Bronze, roman in style, a tribute to the greatest civil engineer the country had ever seen but nonetheless slightly odd in a suburban front garden.

I entered the house and followed the instructions I had been given to the main bedroom, into the walk in wardrobe to the side to be met by rows and rows of Sky Poker (early bird double cash for points for fish, twitter handle @tony_kendall for Vegas blogs) shirts, a signed poster of Jen Mason adorning one wall, a signed poster of a JCB on the other.

I searched for something suitable and alighted on a sensible dark suit and tie, and a light blue shirt

Time was getting short, so I quickly exited the room, skipping over the piles of semi-abandoned copies of "Crane Monthly" on the bedroom floor, down the stairs being careful not to slip up on discarded copies of "Photography for the hopeless" on the stairs

With only moments to spare, it seemed from tikay's dudgeon, I arrived at the Gatehouse at the Sky (early bird double cash for points for fish etc) studios and handed over the bag of clothes

Without even so much as a thank you, or an offer to be introduced to Kirsty Gallacher in the Sky Sports News Studio, off he went.

I went home, thinking all the while that a tough trip lay ahead. Compared to earlier trips this was now a more demanding client, more at ease with the trappings of fame that had come to him late in life than previously.

At around 1am the first of several voicemail messages came through.

I reproduce them verbatim

"Show finished. That Fowler never stops giggling. Does my head in"

"Jeeves, I wanted suitable clothes not clothes that made me look like an undertaker. I'm down, I'm happening, I'm now"

"Next time, polo shirt and slacks man. Dark suit indeed"

"Jeeves, where are you? Not awake? Tell no one about the posters"

I went back to sleep, secretly dreading Sunday, and a month spent three feet behind my boss and a pace to the left, for he had now become the Shirley Bassey of poker.

[smashedagain]

Lol. This is quality

[Jeeves]

"You drive Jeeves" my master said as I loaded up the BMW at a ridiculously early hour this morning

"I still can't believe that Russia got turned over by Greece, that the Boxing binman fight was a no contest and then Tiger stiffed it at the end of the round. Bang goes my Tips for tikay month, Jeeves, Bang it bloody well goes. Fun4f***ingFraser indeed"

I decided verbal discretion was the better part of candid valour and kept my mouth shut.

I climbed into the car, but not after clearing away several month's worth of Costa Coffee latte cups, copies of The Times and Sky Poker (daily blogs from Vegas just check the twitter hashtag #TK4Vegas) badges first

We settled into our drive to Gatwick, with My master checking Betfair markets on Aussie Rules football on his IPad as we went.

This was clearly a changed man since our last extended sojourn, the degenerate side hidden so long had re-emerged and like a multi-headed hydra this was now a more complex beast, with moods to match.

At Gatwick, the routine of previous years has been followed to a tee.

First, barge several small boys out of the way to get the best vantage point to photograph assorted fuselage from the Boeing range, to keep him company in those moments of self-doubt whilst Stateside

Next, Garfunkels for a binge to wipe away the chaste memories of the prior months of fruit, ryvita and low fat spreads.

Then, WH Smith, with me following behind with a basket, at a respectful distance. Six books, on such exciting subjects as global finance, Chess openings with the Queens Indian Gambit, the British Coastline, Mastering Betfair for dummies, Peter Andre's autobiography and a Wordsearch Quizbook. Presumably the last was a mistake. Only the one glance at the racy subject matter on the top shelf, when he thought I wasn't looking.

Now he is firmly ensconsced in the Virgin upper class lounge, resenting every minute of Lord Branson's hospitality no doubt, while I sit outside trying to avoid eye contact with the rather aged lady who stands sentry on the desk outside, vetting customers for their suitability for entry into such an august environment.

Soon, we will be on our way. I, in economy, no doubt wedged between a hairdresser from Rochdale and a PPI compensation salesman from Telford. He, in Upper, no doubt railing at the quality of the in flight entertainment these days, and no doubt asking for a translation guide to Dora the explorer, which his TV console got stuck on last year's flight

A long month lies ahead, and you'll miss none of the action here with Jeeves

[MereNovice]

Fan-f'ing-tastic.