upon contemplating apping to mylittlejamjar

[personalgentlepony]

I see what you mean, madam. Mr Wooster does seem to be "in over his head," doesn't he?

Comments

[personalgentlepony]

I am sure that I will manage, sir.

And Miss Fluttershy?

[tinkertytonk]

Er... well, I'm sure she can manage herself, old boy! Self-sufficient sort of beazel. More or less.

And the young master's become rather self-sufficient in the interim, as well. [A masterful segue if ever there was spoke.] Now, I don't want you to go thinking there isn't a place for you in my entourage, but I've become pretty well adapted to the Bohemian lifestyle. I've picked artichokes.

[personalgentlepony]

Ah.

Do you not wish to employ me in Equestria, then, sir?

[tinkertytonk]

What? No! No no no! No! I mean, yes? I-I mean employment is fully and whole-heartedly upon the table, Jeeves. Stacked up on the very best china with Uncle Tom's entire silver collection ready and waiting for use in the thing should you so choose. There is a minor matter in that quarter, though.

I don't appear to have my savings account here.

[personalgentlepony]

That is a dilemma, sir. I suppose I could keep track of unpaid wages and you could relinquish the lump sum once we've return to London.

[tinkertytonk]

Oh. Oh, yes! Yes! That would work marvelously. I mean, I have been earning some money. Fetching and flying about, you know? And what's mine is yours, of course. Actually, that rather seems to be a theme where I'm living at the moment.

Bear with me, Jeeves. There are really smashing ponies living here. Birds and beazels from all sorts of universes! It's, well. Do you remember when Bingo was on about that communist girl?

[personalgentlepony]

Only too well, sir.

[tinkertytonk]

Right. Brilliant! Knew that fish-fed brain of yours wouldn't lose the details. Hah.

I'm living on a commune.

[personalgentlepony]

Indeed sir.

[The look on his face is definitely of a brothly nature.]

[tinkertytonk]

[Bertie recognizes that soupy look. One could hardly forget it.]

Oh, look, I know it isn't ideal, old thing. But it's very, well, communal. Braces the spirit to be amongst chums!

There's a... chores list, though. They put me on it.

[personalgentlepony]

Oh dear.







You are still on this list? [If so, Jeeves' initial estimation of the fellow commune dwellers' intelligence, already not high, will sink even lower.]

[tinkertytonk]

They put me in charge of irrigation. Between that and the guard, I feel as though I've been worked to the bone. How do you manage it, Jeeves? All this hard work.

[personalgentlepony]

I endeavor to do my best sir. [There's that soupy look back.]

Irrigation, sir? Forgive me, I wasn't aware you possessed any knowledge on the subject.

[tinkertytonk]

I didn't. Steepish learning curve, though. Positively perpendicular. I mean, it's really just bouncing about on clouds for a bit and shoving them where Vantas tells me, but it's the principle of the thing, Jeeves!

I thought about working for ages, but I never imagined I'd get stuck doing it. Do you know they make everypony get up at the un-Godly hour of eight in the ack emma? We're growing artichokes. I hardly think they're going to run off anywhere if we leave it till 11:00!

[personalgentlepony]

Farms do tend to run on strict schedules, sir.

[tinkertytonk]

Well, we Woosters are flexible fellows and prefer our schedules reflect that.

[personalgentlepony]

Indeed sir.

[tinkertytonk]

[Bertie raises a brow.]

Well, what time do you get up on the usual day, Jeeves? 8:30? 9:00?

[personalgentlepony]

Seven in the morning, sir.

[tinkertytonk]

What? Why? I'm not up until 10:00, at least. Surely it can't take that long to prepare breakfast.

[personalgentlepony]

Preparing breakfast is not the only household task that must be undertaken that time of morning, sir.

[A slight pause.] Also, it allows me time for my reading.

[tinkertytonk]

Oh. Oh, of course. Right! Yes.

[Bertie raps his hoof against his head, and promptly vows to never do that again. Hooves are not knuckles.]

I mean, it makes sense for you, old boy. You're a thinking man. I haven't got a thought in my head most of the day, let alone the morning.

[personalgentlepony]

Indeed sir.