No, in fact, he seemed to be in quite a bit of a rush. I don't think he was even wearing a name tag. Oh, drat, if my luggage was stolen by some ruffians I will no choice but to get my hands... messy... George! George: Yes master? Fetch me my firearms! Sorry, Womby this is George, my butler. George: Your shotgun sir. Calibrated to a high quality sights and balanced recoil. Slug rounds for increased range, and made of the highest caliber of Carbon Fiber. Thank you Goerge. I shall be back in a moment or two. But uh George? George: Yes master? Prepare some clothing for me by shopping in the market yes? I'm terribly sorry Sir Womby, but I have a feeling your maids will have bit of... trouble cleaning my suit. Well than, I must be off. Ta ta!