"Please be quiet, [Anonymous], won't you?" Bertie hisses.

"I'm sorry!" you whisper frantically. "It's just that I..."

"Is something the matter, [sir/miss]?" Jeeves inquires.

You falter. "Never mind. I'm fine. I'll be quiet." But you can't stop yourself from hopping a little from foot to foot.

"You're going to give us away if you keep doing that, old fruit. We're all stuck here together because — well, we all know why, I don't need to explain it. Go on, tell us what's wrong."

"Well...it's just that I need the toilet, you see. But I know circumstances won't allow it for some time."

Bertie's eyebrows raise. Jeeves licks his lips. They exchange a quick glance and then start moving slowly toward you.

"Is that so?" Bertie's eyes shine with unmistakable lust. Jeeves subtly adjusts the front of his trousers.

"Er, yes. I'm pretty desperate," you admit.

"That is most disturbing to hear, [sir/miss]," Jeeves says, but his tone is much more lecherous than sympathetic. "Just try to stay calm and hold out."

"Well, I'm doing my best," you say, now completely bewildered, but also strangely turned on. "I just want to have a successful relief without accident, in the end."

They're only inches away from you now. Bertie reaches out and starts rubbing Jeeves's left nipple.

"What's going on here? You two seem...terribly aroused."

"We are," they say simultaneously.