Because, Jeeves, of all places on this great planet of ours, West Neck, Long Island, has been chosen to be the most unexciting. The last time anything remotely interesting happened here was in 1842, when a tree fell over. They still talk about it in the village.
Good Lord, I'd have to dress for dinner every night! I won't do it. I can't do it! Do you realize, I don't usually get out of my pajamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put on a sweater, like this?
Well, I shall certainly bear your generous invitation in mind if I am in the vicinity. Good afternoon, madam. [tips his hat, and he and Bertie hurry up the stairs]
[to the "Boost for Birdsburg" conventioneers] Will it redound to the good name of Birdsburg, gentlemen, if it is printed in every newspaper in the land that you, the town's representatives, were mousetrapped by a pair of suede-shoe feather merchants?