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Bertie is in an excellent mood.

For one thing, Jeeves has worked a bloody miracle, and his latest matrimonial scare has been most satisfactorily resolved in a way that didn't involve Bertie ending up at, or indeed anywhere near, a nuptial altar.

For another thing, he's discovered the piano.

This may or may not be good news for the other patrons of Milliways. Either way, there's a Wooster, dressed for dinner, sitting at the piano, playing rather enthusiastically. He's no Cab Calloway, but he does his best.

He could, perhaps, use a little help with the call and response bits.

tiny-and-arguably-musical!tag: Bertram Wilberforce Wooster

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And he doesn't mess with the rhythm. Bertie is quite impressed. They work through the Teedie-heedie-hees and Rahdie-rahdie-rahs next.

Enzo, if Bertie will recall, plays guitar. His sense of rhythm is quite adequate. And they're hardly difficult lyrics.

And, okay, it's kind of fun.

Bertie does remember, though he wouldn't exactly think of that as a point in Enzo's favor considering the type of music he plays.

Minnie gets her gifts from King Gustav and there's another chorus of call and response before the big finale.

Enzo duly responds, more cheerfully this time, and even joins in on the last line.

Bertie finishes with a flourish and sits back with a satisfied smile.

"Very well done, old chap. Quite a rum song, wot?"

"It's pretty good," Enzo agrees—at least, he thinks that's what Bertie meant. "The second verse makes more sense."

"Hmm...yes," Bertie says, peering at the music. "I still have no idea what a hoochie-coocher is. The bit about the King of Sweden is quite good, though."

"What's a frail?" The adjective, he knows. The noun, not so much.

"A frail? It's a bird. You know...a woman. The gentler sex and all."

Pray forgive Enzo if he bursts out laughing.

Good code, Users can be stupid.

And please forgive Bertie if he looks at Enzo as though there's something seriously wrong with him.

"Er...is that...amusing?"

Between giggles: "You mean, like, all women? Not just damsels?"

He gives 'damsel' a very sarcastic and distasteful twist.

Bertie's confused look gets even more confused. "I was under the impression that all women qualified as 'damsels'."

"No," Enzo says scornfully. "Just stupid wimpy ones. Save-me girls."

Bertie gives Enzo an incredulous look. He's not used to being contradicted by children when it comes to semantics.

"No," he says, speaking slowly and enunciating. "That would be a damsel in distress. It's possible to be a damsel without distress." He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Of course, you don't often hear about damsels not in distress, I suppose, but that hardly means they don't exist."

Enzo replies just as patiently.

"Yeah, but when other girls get in distress, they get themselves out of it. And if they need saving, they don't scream about it."

"I think you'll find that doesn't exempt them from being damsels."

"Different language, I guess."

He shakes his head. "Frail," he mutters, and snickers.

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