what_ho_jeeves: (serious)
What ho. [His typical greeting is a little less exuberant than usual.]

I'm sad to say that that I've come to the realization that this Wooster isn't really cut out for this job. It's a dashed tricky thing, wardening, a more convoluted process than making tea even. So the time has come for me to throw in the towel, make a strategic retreat, biff off back to London. You're all the best of fellows and you're all welcome to drop in on my flat if you're ever in the metrop. [Yes, he's including the inmates in this invitation. He's probably never quite caught on that many of them are Bad Peoples.]

Una, you're jolly well the best beazel I've ever been engaged to.

Ana, you're a marvellously clever girl, almost as clever as Jeeves, I'd reckon. I'm sorry I wasn't able to see you graduated. But you're a good egg at heart and I'm sure you'll do it in no time.

Georgie, I've got some things to give you before I go. And I'll try to look you up the next time I'm on the other side of the Atlantic.

Doctor Caesares, I've got something for you, too. You're a well-dressed gentleman, so I think you'll appreciate it.

Toodle-pip.
what_ho_jeeves: (three-quarters)
[Not private filtered at all. Bertie doesn't quite get the filter thing unless the other person filters first.]

Professor Fate? I say, Professor, are you there?

And, Admiral, my good chap, since you refuse to bring me my valet, even though he'd be corking at this wardening business, I need a bit of help with my flat. It's getting a bit chaotic if you know what I mean. Dusting is dashed harder than it looks, and I've already broken two teacups trying to wash up. If you won't let me have Jeeves, don't you at least a maid on board who could tidy up? This really is the worst service I've had on a ship. I've half a mind to write a complaint to your company chairman and tell him so.
what_ho_jeeves: (WTF Tea?)
[Voice]

--at ho? [sound of communicator falling down and shutting off.]



[Text]

e9oas0-50igf4eaw3l;k82=erwl;dkl;3r0;kxkop8954 0kdska0230-



[Video]


...blasted thing come with instructions.

[Lo! The whatsitsthingy is blinking! This might be a good sign. Or this might be like the half-dozen other times that he thought it was working when it actually wasn't. ...No...it really is working this time. In the background is a posh flat designed with hints of Art Deco in the architectural details.]

What ho, what ho!

I say, this is a dashed peculiar sort of ship, isn’t it? I mean, when I was approached by this Admiral chap I knew I’d be on some boat or another, but I rather expected it to be more of a sea-going affair, as is, I think, a natural conclusion to come to when the word “ship” is uttered. Instead, inside, I find a replica of my Berkeley Mansions flat, so perfectly perfect I half expect Jeeves to come biffing in through the kitchen door at any moment, and outside, I find all the starry universe.

Well, this is a rummy whatsits, it is. All the same, this Wooster shall not yield to brooding or despair. Oh no. Did the Wooster who fought at Agincourt look around that stormy and troubled hill and say, “Dash it all, this wasn’t on the cards,” and go home? Oh no. A Wooster always keeps his word, you know.

[He emphatically gestures with the hand that's holding the communicator at the end of his little speech, causing the picture to veer wildly around and ultimately drops it again. Barge-folk, enjoy a view of his ceiling.]

Dash it all, why can't the Admiral use sensible things that start with "tele," like telegrams and telephones to--

[And in picking it up he's accidentally turned it off again. It may be hours before he figures out how to turn it back on.]

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