[Anyone even remotely interested] Popped round the old place looking for any clue of Jeeves' whereabouts and heard an odd scratching sound. Turned out the old chap was asleep in the billiard room when you all locked up and he's been surviving on the contents of the belowstairs larder and discarded podumes ever since. He had planned to dig a tunnel to escape and the plan was well, advanced, he had just unupholstered a couple of the old wing chairs from the servant's lounge to make the top of the vaulting horse that he had fashioned from the Dom Perignon crates in the member's cellar when I broke in and tok him home. He was beside himself with glee and ached for news off 'his gentlemen' and I tol him that I had tracked some of them down at a swanky new club. He seemed utterly delighted and asked to come down in order to seek employment and to meet you all agan but I put him to work immediately, buffing up my favourite 'Crescent Jacket' and digging out my Lumpton Jr texts from the library so that I may fully immerse myself in play once more. It's for his own good. See you soon, must fly, he's preparing a sumptuous dish of Bernard's Turkey Drummers and Alphabites and I don't want to miss that.
Agh! My computer has flipped out again! It refuses to even start up now - I must complain to computer blokie as I think it was something he did.. (v. stressful, this..)