England: 1907
Reginald the butler is digging a hole with a shovel, and sweating. Alistair and Baxter are sitting in chairs watching him, and wearing puffy shirts.

Baxter: Reginald. Reginald. Reginald? Reginald!

Reginald: Yes, sire.

Baxter: Chicken butts.

Alistair: Ho! Nice one Baxter.

Reginald: Sire, that doesn’t fit unless I answer with word what.

Baxter: Chicken butts.

Alistair: Ho! Baxter you scoundrel, you’re unstoppable!

Baxter: Glad someone has a sense of humor around here. I’ve done that joke with Reginald twelve times since the morning, and he just gets grumpier and grumpier.

Alistair: Indeed. Why are you in such a fitzy mood today Reginald? Aren’t you happy digging your hole? Butlers like digging holes. They do it all the time in the north. \

Reginald: Those are miners.

Alistair: I don’t hear the difference.

Baxter: I believe he said finers. It’s a type of butler who is very thin yet remarkably strong.

Alistair: Hmm, that doesn’t sound true, but I don’t know enough to refute it.

Baxter: Excellent.

Reginald: Sire, why am I digging a hole in your mother’s garden?

Baxter: I forget. Do you recall Alistair?

Alistair: What?

Baxter: Chicken butts!

Alistair: Ho! Let us go and find more servants to subject to your wit.

Baxter: A glorious idea! Reginald, put down that shovel. I no longer wish to go to China.

Reginald: Wha…Nevermind.

Baxter: Good, onward.

Alistair and Baxter walk off, leaving Reginald standing in the hole.