Tiny, tiny ficlet... Inspired by the way Renfield's the only person who even tries to pronounce Bertrand's name properly.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Bertrand avoided eating in the kitchen these days, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. Renfield wandered through as he was contemplating the delicate hint of cinnamon in his apple pie – a guilty pleasure he'd picked up from the nearest supermarket – muttering to himself as usual.
"Oh, yes, thought you were better than me, didn't you? Better than stupid old Renfield. But he'll never look at you, just like the Count might never bite me, and we're both in a fine mess aren't we? At least the Count can stand the sight of me."
The butler looked up, straight into Bertrand's eyes, and his goofy grin was nowhere to be seen as he made a sarcastic little bow with a flourish.
"Welcome, Bertrand, to the ranks of the Unaspeciated Servants." Then he was gone again, leaving Bertrand to his pie.
Somehow, it didn't seem as appetising as it had.
