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Bertie stood, hands on hips, hair mussed, in rumpled flannel pyjamas with tiny majestic stags. Expression sleepily stroppy, Bertie watched Jeeves route several feisty raccoons from the tent. The human defender in dressing gown, dark blue pyjamas, unlaced boots, and bearing a camp shovel; the animal faction in fur, armed with claws and teeth, along with shrill chittering.
Finally, bigger and more determined, Jeeves proved too intimidating and the raccoons scampered off into the nearby undergrowth.
“That’s it, old thing. This camping wheeze isn’t what I expected. Abandon base camp, my man, we’re off to the lodge.”
“Bless you, sir!”