"If there is anything else I can do, oh, please oh please: Do not hesitate to let me know. It's not like I was reanimated centuries ago by an entire circle of great archmagi who were too busy preserving the secrets of the world to see to their own essential needs. One lump, or two, my most esteemed master? *bone-rattling sigh*" Buttleton, as the impeccably dressed skeleton constantly reminds those who hold his key and thus his temporal allegience, has seen and done it all in the service of masters much more grand and important than his current masters. Woe to those who lose his key, however. Light on his phalanges and with many years to hone his razored "tongue" to the point of being able to do more than just hurt one's feelings, Buttleton's only remaining joy (if it could be called such) is to make everyone around him just as miserable as he is. No insult too great, no failing too small to point out, and no master too important to replace, if the opportunity presents itself... Instinct: To perform its buttling functions in the most irritating way possible.

• Complete its assigned task in the most put-upon manner possible.
• Painfully and obtrusively insult its master or its master's guests
• Arrange a complicated scheme to obtain its freedom