What the Butler Saw

This is an appeal on behalf of Butlers Victimised for Flatulence by Tomb Raiding Heroines (or BVFTRH to our friends)…

(paaarpp!)

“Urrrg,

That’s twice now shes run me down. But it couldn’t have been on purpose… could it?”

for your support…

“Oh my, and I used her favourite porcelain tea set, it’s going to get ruined.”

This is Winston.

He’s in his late 70s and would like to lead a normal life…

But unfortunately… he can’t…

“I did go to her training ground, but she must have been busy with training or some other extreme activities elsewhere as she was nowhere to be seen. She really does train far too hard.”

“I can never keep up with her…

Everyday, butlers like Winston are forced into doing tasks not even trained SAS soldiers could take.  Forced to walk miles with two broken hips and an arm tremor… and given absolutely no opportunity to let one go.

Uuuurgh…”

His mistress says if he mislays the tea tray one more time…

…she will shoot him like a T-Rex at the bottom of a slope.

But you can help…

By sponsoring a butler.

For just £2 a month, you could give Winston and other neglected and socially scarred butlers…

(Paaarrrrpp!)

A better life… and maybe a match to light – just to clear the smell.

The chance to make tea for someone who will actually drink it,

“Even with all the secret underground passages she is unaware of around the manor which aid me in my duties, I still seem to be one step behind her.”

“Oh, it’s going to get cold now.”

The chance to make enough money to buy Wind-Eze and spare underpants…

“The doctor said it was down to stress and tiredness and that I should also cut out the brandy.

(Paarrrrrrrrrppa…) Oooow!!  That one’ll hurt come winter”

…but also the chance to feel wanted, appreciated and most of all…

“I could have sworn she came down this way…”

…not to be violently abused for no apparent reason other than boredom.

“Oh, oh!”

(PPTHHT!) OOOW…

“I bet my dear ol’ father never once had to go through such an ordeal…

urrgh…”

But with your help, you can put a stop to this,

so butlers, like Winston, can start to rebuild their lives.

“I really don’t mind assisting in her training, but dear me, my poor limbs are starting to ache something rotten.  And there’s something else rotten too.”

So they are not used as moving targets for weapons training.

“I’m just not as young and nimble as I used to be.

Because my bones are still broken from the last time she used me for weapons training.”

So they are not drugged with laxatives in their nightly bedtime Horlicks.

“If people ask why I’m walking oddly, I just tell them that the old back is playing up again. Even with the stench, they never refute me. It must be those mini scotch eggs I had for lunch.”

So they are not run down by speeding Quad Bikes.

“URRRRGH!”

And foremost, so they do not have to live in fear of being locked…

in the Croft Manor freezer.

“I guess I should be grateful she did not take the pot of Earl Grey tea today, this is my only heat source, which is also unfortunately, fading fast.”

Time…

“It’s the second day, and the cold is getting to me.  Oh what can I find to occupy my mind?  Oh whats this? Has she ordered the rib of beef again, a very good choice indeed, it does make a nice change from roast pork, I do hope I get the chance to sample its fine flavor…”

(PPTHHPTPFFTHPPPT!!!)

…and time…

“This cold temperature is making me feel rather hungry now, well at least I still have my Werthers Originals with me this time.”

again.

“Well, I’ve been in here 3 days now… I must have really p*ssed her off. One day I will have  an open door button fixed on to the inside of this freezer too… but not today…”

(parrp!)

‘Oh dear – that froze.  It must be… cold… in…. heereeeeeeeeee *cough* ee ee ere (silence)’

Thank you.

“Oh, it’s getting quite ripe in here.”