You've written servant's parts. You know all about the unreliability of comic servants on the stage. All you need to do is play it up.
"It never did, though. Something must have happened to it?"
"A likely story," the man says. "More likely that you're just looking for an extra meal. Get back to work."
He narrows his eyes at you. "I don't know you, come to that. Who hired you?"
You hesitate. A little too long. The next thing you know, you're being removed by two burly kitchen workers and firmly deposited on the flagstones outside. You're not getting in to see Falathar today.
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