“Now, that…” a male voice from the darkness said, his accent an educated southern drawl, “… was an interestin’ dream.” Moments later the lights in the room flicked on. The naked woman on his left, an attractive and slender asian american with short hair, made a mutter of disapproval, and pulled the cover over her face. The african american woman on his other side, much taller than his other bedmate and more buxom, had slipped on panties at some stage before going to sleep; she stayed soundly asleep.
Mephistopheles didn’t need to sleep, a very useful little trick for a club owner, but he always liked to catch an hour or two. Being a gentleman, he only kept the light on for long enough to get dressed, and then left his two companions to slumber until they were rested enough. The lights clicked off as the door closed, despite the fact that no-one had pressed any switches.
As he walked down the corridor, he thought a single command, and moments later an impeccably dressed butler, who looked exactly like the actor who portrayed Jeeves in the late twentieth-century televisualisation of Wodehouse’s famous books, stepped out of the wall. He was holding a cup of tea, which he immediately passed to his master, who, after taking a sip, smiled at the ‘man’, “Why, thank you, Jeeves.” It hurt the poor thing to call it by its true name, and so (as a child) he’d given it the name of a character from a TV show he’d been watching. As the years passed, he slowly came to look (most of the time) like the character/actor.
“Not a problem, sir.” The creature said in a plummy English accent, “Shall I deal with your companions from last night in the usual fashion, sir?”
“Why, of course… but leave it until mid afternoon. I imagine the ladies are… somewhat tired.”
“As you say, sir.”
“Indeed. I also need you to set the table for guests this evening, Jeeves… four guests, to be precise.”
“As you request, sir. Are we expecting anyone in particular, sir?”
“Well….” He lengthened out the ‘e’ of the word as he considered, “I’ve only… met… one of them. They are definitely peculiar. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if they are particular.”
“And the poison, sir?”
Meph let out a laugh, “Ah, Jeeves… you’re such a worrier. No, I do not believe we are dealin’ with that sort.”
“Are you certain, sir? It’s just that last time you invited strangers to the club, the poison really would have been most useful.”
“We dealt with it, did we not?”
“Why… yes, sir, but there was so much to clean up – and blood really is a very persistent stain, and convincing their employers of our innocence really was a very tiresome chore…”
“Jeeves, there is a whole world of difference between these guests and our… ah… Eastern European friends. You know, I don’t remember your spiritual predecessor bein’ quite so worried. He just dealt with the problem, while his idiot master did his own thing.”
“Yes, sir, but if I might make note of the difference between dealing with the comically inbred scions of the British and American upper classes… and the somewhat more dangerous world that we inhabit…”
“I know, I know. I was just tryin’ to get you to lay off the whole poison thing without makin’ it an order. You know how little I enjoy impingin’ upon your free will, Jeeves.”
“Very true, sir… and I am very thankful.”
“So we’ll hear no more of poisonin’?”
“My lips are sealed, sir.”