Get a C.L.U.E.: Part VII - The Butler

As PA DeMolay prepares for the upcoming C.L.U.E. Spring Leadership Weekend, to be held May 2-4, 2014, at Patton Campus, we thought it high time to introduce you to some of the characters that you'll meet during the weekend. This is the final character to be introduced.

 

David Anthony Michael Saint-John Smythe Worchester Jeeves was clearly meant for service.  He was born with a silver salver in his hand, much to his mother’s chagrin:  She was hoping for a child who would grow up to be a barrister.  Or at least a barrista.  Jeeves was educated in a fantastically mediocre English Comprehensive School in Leeds, which was subsequently sold to the lowest bidder and relocated brick by brick to a more fashionable suburb of Hoboken, New Jersey.  While at school, he was voted “Chap With Way Too Many Names For A Working Class Boy.”  He passed his GCSE’s magna cum lucky, and came to service early, accepting a situation as a footman to who he believed to be the Lord Privy Seal, but who turned out in fact to be the Lord Privy Cleaner.  The job looked good on paper, but soon his spirits plunged, and he feared his career was going down the drain. 

 

He was able to gain a place in the entering class of the Theological College of Saint Lowell of Emgee (LOL OMG). Upon graduation, he was dismayed to find that the school was not recognized by the Church of England, but rather by the Church of New England (CoNE), a little known splinter sect of the Anglican tradition.  So he headed for America in search of a vicarate, and arrived at the See of the CoNE, headquartered in a former ice cream parlor with heavily boarded windows in South Boston, and covered in graffiti reading “Protestants Go Home!”  He rang the bell for several hours.  No one answered.

So he began a ministry of itinerant preaching, working his way south into Pennsylvania.  He was pontificating on a street corner in Unlikely, PA one day, and was overheard by our own “Dad” Boddy.  So, struck was “Dad” Boddy with the Reverend Jeeves’s preaching that he immediately insisted on hiring him on to act as the caretaker of the Masonic Center.  And so Jeeves went from dog-collar to dogsbody, and had to content himself with service once again.  He hoped to put his ministerial training to some use, and volunteered, with “Dad” Boddy, to work with the young men of Preposterous Chapter. 

Still, contentedness eluded him.  He was continuously galled by the treatment he received from “Dad” Boddy and the rest of the Council.  These ugly Americans understood nothing of the fine tradition of service, nor of the honor of the English clergy.  To them, he was a well-dressed janitor, and their “Downton Abbey” references were about to get one of them punched up the bracket.
He had become a truly unsettled man.  But is he capable of murder?