"Good Morning or Evening,
Whatever the time of day, whatever your speciation or somatoform, Fentible, the Starship Titanic's pleasingly unctuous and ingratiating DoorBot, is there to help you.
As is his customary policy, Reginoid a'Hem, the Titanic's Head of Robotics, scoured the galaxy for just the right personality to transfer into the miracle of electro-mechanical biddability that is the DoorBot. Mr a'Hem was anxious that, being the first point of contact for embarking voyagers, this highly-specialised Mark XII Meet-'n'-Greet-O-Mat® should provide a first impressing of subtle, almost surreptitious efficiency combined with a level of courtesy so unremitting as to satisfy even the Titanic's demanding, perfectionist, clientele.
And, as always, he found it. Memorious, optimistic, courtly and sesquipedalian, this exemplary personality was found sequestered in a crumbling old house outside a rain-sodden village in the rustic backwoods of a little-regarded planet far out on the western spiral arm of the galaxy, occupying the obese and arthritic body of a butler - the original Fentible himself - who for fifty years had served the many members of the Spoke-Mandragora family.
The last surviving member of the family, Sir Pumphrey de Vache Spoke-Mandragora, had himself died of grout some years before Mr a'Hem located Mandragora House, and it was a convincing measure of Fentible's professionalism that, far from hitting the sherry and letting himself go like most butlers, he had continued assiduously to attend to the wants of the family. In common with so many ancient and aristocratic households, particularly those entirely composed of dead people, those wants were frugal in the extreme, but nevertheless Fentible stayed at his post, resisting the temptation to fall into pessimism and almost invariably looking on the bright side as he lurched ponderously among the family vaults and catacombs.
These qualities proved him the ideal personality donor for the Titanic's DoorBot. When offered the chance of Soulplantation®, Fentible was enthusiastic. "To think that my years of training at the Beach-Wodehouse Buttling College will be put to use serving the cream of the Galaxy's movers and shakers!" he said. "I am honoured indeed, Sir, Madam or Thing."
Now you, too, can have a taste of the level of service hitherto reserved for inbred aristocrats with pointed heads and smelly tweeds, dead of rural torpor in the remote, rainswept sticks! An experience you, the customer, richly deserve. And which we, the leaders in galactic leisure travel, are, like Fentible, honoured to provide.