The Trip from Hell pt 1

It was a lovely afternoon. The weather was nice, very agreeable for the time of year. The sun was shining through the windows as I polished silverware, a task I usually find a calming task due to it's tedious, repetitive nature. The whole scene was rather tranquil, almost unnaturally so, but it was a welcome change. It was then, at this one peaceful moment, where it all went to hell.
"God damn it Lurch gitchyer ass over here!" Paris screeched from the doorway.
"One moment, Sir." I said calmly, not taking my eyes from the spoon I was polishing. As important as addressing Paris' issues may be, a half-assed polish job would reflect very badly upon me as a professional. That, and frankly I just don't like him. I carefully inspected it for any lingering polish before setting it back in it's case and turning to face the oncoming storm.
"How can I be of assistance?" I asked.
My calm demeanour only seemed to agitate him more.
"Took your sweet-ass time!" He spat, " I came to tell you I'm going away for a week. I'm meeting some friends in Amsterdam."
"It should be a most pleasant trip, shall I make the travel arrangements?" I asked, a little bit too eagerly.
An entire week Paris-free. That meant no parties or being yelled at for a whole seven days. It would be more of a vacation for me than him. In my mind I was dancing in a state of pure euphoria. It seemed too good to be true, which is why I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.
"I'm not done yet!" Paris snapped, "I need a Valet for the trip. I talked to Uncle Tom about it and he says I should bring you. Just letting you know, you better pack up your shit."
"…I beg your pardon, sir, but may I inquire as to who shall take over my duties while I am away?" I asked calmly. I had to pause and think before speaking, other wise I probably would have said something more along the lines of "Noooooooooooooooo! Why god, WHYYYYYY?!".
"My Uncle said not to worry about it, so I'm not." He said apathetically, "Arrange it for Thursday, that way I've got all Friday there. And make it an afternoon. I don't wanna do any of that early morning crap."
"I shall see to it, sir."
"Good."
And with that he walked away.
The remainder of my polishing went by dismally. I was accompanying Paris on his trip to Amsterdam. I felt a little bit betrayed by the Master for allowing this to happen to me. I would have to wait on Paris and Paris alone for the entirety of said trip. I would also have to arrange the household staff's schedule in such a way as to accommodate my absence. And it was Paris in Amsterdam. Great. Wonderful. Spectacular.
I regarded the smooth, silver contours of one of the forks as I polished and contemplated jamming it in my eye. Maybe I could get out of it that way. Yes, perhaps that would work. I would certainly not be in fit condition for the trip afterward. Then again, getting blood and retina on the silverware would reflect very badly upon me as a professional. And I suppose depth perception is a privilege I should not take for granted, either.
Despite my aversion to the task, everything was prepared and in good order come Thursday afternoon, because that's just what I do. Miraculously I had found a route of transportation via plane and a few short car rides that could easily accommodate our late departure. I also managed to revise the staff schedule, which was no small feat. Needless to say that upon seeing their increased workloads (despite being only temporary) they were not happy with me. Not even Timothy, and he's always happy. Though they were much more sympathetic when they learned that I was stuck with the job of Paris-sitting. Even Beatrice, whose usual response to such complaints is 'suck it up'. Having her sympathies may have helped embolden me for the task hand.