He'd taken the damn job to indulge his habit of pestering a certain Ten, a Ten who promptly ran off to hang out at the Clubhouse. Monty considered it mighty unsportsman-like of Mr. Fox. Still, he did his job, visiting the Spades once a week, sometimes napping in his office, sometimes whittling (making sure he cleaned up his own mess so as to not offend their butler none) but mostly shooting the breeze with the lovely kitchen staff and other low to middlin' Numbers when said butler was off and about his duties.

It was something to do and not what you'd call Real Work.

So he's that unhappy to be wearing an actual, god awful suit and presenting himself before the Spade king. Didn't help none that he has a feeling Elisha's laughing his fool head off over sticking him with the damn job about now.

"Am I interrupting?"