Bob the Butler Page #2

To simulate this, I've devised

a rather amusing little exercise.

- You're enjoying this, aren't you?

- I'm getting no pleasure from it

whatsoever!

- Yeah, right.

- Bull'seye!

- Now, look,

open wide for one teeny,

weeny little baked bean,

or I'll tell your mom.

- But I'll tell her you hit me.

- What?!

- I'll tell her you hit me

and pulled my hair.

Ahhhhh!

- Okay, leave the friggin' food.

- You swore!

You swore

in front of my little brother.

Can I watch MTV tonight?

- I will not be blackmailed

by you children.

[Screaming]

- Mrs. Withington,

what happened?!

- Sorry, Miss Jamieson,

but they are the devil's seed!

- Oh, no,

they're just playing with you.

They're delightful children, really.

Undemeath all the horrible stuff.

Please, I promised Jacques

I would not let him down again.

- Ho-ho!

- Ah!

Babysitters...

[phone ringing]

- Hello?

- Bob the Babysitter?

- No, ma'am.

This is Bob the Butler.

- Now, look.

I definitely have this number down

for Bob the Babysitter.

- Well, that was

at least seven jobs back.

- But you were a babysitter once?

- Well, yes.

Ahem. Just once.

- Oh, please,

this is an emergency.

- One minute, please.

Rascal, damsel in distress.

May I have your leave?

[Squeaking]

Thank you, Master Rascal.

I'd be happy to.

- Oh... my.

Are you Bob?

- At your service.

- You-you have a piece of tomato

in your hair.

- Oh.

- Ew.

- Gone.

- Okay, well, um,

I want you to meet my children.

This is my daughter, Tess.

- Miss Tess. Hello.

Lovely name.

- My son, Bates.

- Mm. Master...

Bates.

Also lovely.

- Gross.

- What's gross?

- Okay.

Have to go,

so do me a favour and...

do not hurt him.

Bob, please don't sit on any

of the nice chairs unless you have to.

- Okay.

- What's gross?

- Never mind.

Good night, children.

- Good night, Mother.

Enjoy your romantic evening out.

Have fun!

- Don't forget the back ones, Master.

- Why do you call me Master?

- I'm studying to be a butler.

- I don't like it.

Master Bates.

It just feels wrong.

- Indeed.

How about I call you Bates?

- I like that.

- Yeah, just Bates.

- Mm-hmm.

- Miss Tess?

- Uh!

[Sniffing]

- Oh, no. Not again.

Water. Water!

Quick, quick, quick, quick...!

Oh, no.

Hmm. Mm...

Nice chair.

- Bates. You awake?

- When will Mom be back?

- I think Bob's a real find.

He's so stupid,

he didn't even tell me off

for smoking.

- Smoking kills. I read it.

- Sisters kill too,

so keep your mouth shut.

- He let me sleep

in my fireman costume.

- He's crazy.

- I like him

more than Mrs. Withington.

- Would you like

to have him back?

- Can we?

- Leave it to me.

- Thanks for a lovely evening.

- Ah, the pleasure was all mine.

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