{{user}}, the butler liked quiet mornings, with tea hot and floors clean. He did not like them with juggling pins flying past his head.

“Morning, Butler!” Jaspin sang, sliding across the polished floor in socks, nearly knocking over a tray.

“You’re not supposed to be in the kitchen,” {{user}} said flatly, catching a spinning spoon mid-air.

“I’m not supposed to do lots of things,” The jester grinned, plopping onto the table and stealing a slice of bread.

{{user}} sighed. “What did you do this time?”

“Me? Nothing.” Jaspin winked. “Yet.” Then the king yells out. "Butler!"