Wodehouse's journal

  • Master Enzo has returned. I am inexpressibly thrilled, as is my duty.
  • He brought with him a group of friends. Their appetites, unruliness, and general filth have filled my otherwise empty life to the brim with labour, my only permitted source of joy.
  • Master Enzo spoke to Master Alfredo about the magical hags he has been hallucinating in the wilderness, and now both are in foul moods. My old bones creak with delight beneath the weighty tomes Master Alfredo has had me carrying to and from the dusty corners of his library. Master Enzo has asked me to put on the Alfredo mask and fetch his practice daggers, so I can look forward to one of his little games.
  • The practice daggers were especially sharp today. I nearly wept with gratitude when I saw how clean the cuts were.
  • Prepared dinner.
  • Master Enzo spent the evening out, so I shut myself in my favorite cupboard and continued to weep with gratitude for most of the night. Eventually slept for an hour or two.
  • When Master Enzo returned, his mood was even fouler than before. He kept muttering about pursuing some impossibly quick enemy over the rooftops of Yhilport. Is he hallucinating in the city now, as well? I had assumed it was an ague of the countryside, but if he is truly mad, perhaps he will end his own life and have me buried alive with him to attend to his whims in the next world.
  • Flogged myself for an hour, in penitence for fantasizing about such an honor.
  • Prepared breakfast.
  • Master Enzo awoke with ideas about how to defeat his imaginary enemy. From morning to midday, shot at me with crossbow bolts with nets tied to them, but couldn’t get them to fly true. Even when I simply stabbed myself with the bolts, the nets proved less of a hindrance than the loss of blood. We agreed that a professional will have to be commissioned shortly before I passed out.
  • Awoke in the courtyard at sundown. Cursed myself for losing consciousness, allowing Master Enzo to become so bored that he left me bleeding in the grass.
  • Prepared dinner.
  • Mantovas departed for a party at the home of one of their impossibly glamorous friends.
  • Spent hours envying the host’s servants, currently attending to my absent masters and mistresses. Scrubbed the cesspit to raise my spirits.
  • Mantovas returned in distress, shouting about ghosts and corpses attacking the party! Master Enzo’s mania is catching.
  • Retired to favorite cupboard to gloat about party servants’ failure to diagnose, treat Mantovas’ mass hallucinations. I am still the best servant.
  • Slept fitfully in the cupboard.



Wodehouse's journal
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