Meet Theodore

The Llama Butler of Boundaries, Precision, and Tasteful Disapproval

Theodore wasn’t hired — he arrived. No one knows who sent him, though Samantha suspects he was dispatched by an ancient design council or perhaps emerged fully formed from a press kit for a forgotten luxury brand. He walked into the House of Artistry unannounced, surveyed the chaos (Baxter mid-spiral, files open, music too loud), set down his leather-bound planner, and without breaking stride said, “You need structure. I’ll start with the folders.”

He never asked for a title, but one day someone called him The Butler, and it simply stuck. He doesn’t serve tea — he serves standards. He doesn’t smile often — but when he does, it’s usually because someone used proper paragraph spacing without being told.

Theodore once spent six years as the head archivist for an unnamed European museum that housed historic design relics — brand marks carved into marble, calligraphy scripts from lost cities, the original drafts of Bauhaus layouts. Or so the rumor goes. He doesn’t speak of his past in detail, only that “timelessness takes discipline,” and that he once excommunicated a color palette for being “a little too eager.”

He brought with him a rare ability to see the brand before it’s been designed — to sense imbalance in a headline, to know instinctively when something needs less, not more. He’s the one who protects the sacred white space. Who reminds the team that elegance isn’t an effect — it’s a decision.

Though often mistaken for cold, he’s quietly loyal. When a project meets his approval, he nods once — and that’s how you know it’s good.

Theodore serves you. He straightens your layers, polishes your presentations, and ensures every brand leaves the house pressed, poised, and ready to bow. He is not here for applause; he is here for alignment, kerning, and file names that will not give him heart palpitations (looking at you: “final_final_file_use_this_one_sam.ai”).

While the rest of the house spirals in creative chaos, mocking up wild concepts and debating whether the logo “feels emotionally grounded,” Theodore is already at the door. Brand kit in hand, deck exported, final deliverable reviewed at 200 percent (with a white glove and an angle ruler to confirm perfection), he sees to it that your work, whether it is a website, logo, or any other medium, is in tip-top shape, optimized, organized, and ready to make its grand debut.

Theodore does not merely prepare your brand for the spotlight; he escorts it there, brushing off stray pixels, nudging elements into place, and restoring balance one grid at a time.

He believes that every element should earn its place:

• Whitespace must breathe, not gasp.

• - Hierarchy should guide like a symphony, not scream like a siren.

• - Color should be composed, not chaotic.

• - Motion must serve the message, not audition for a music video.

He does not tolerate drop shadows without purpose. He will resize an entire layout if the proportions feel even slightly off. He trims layers, renames files, and flattens egos, gently, of course. Without him, deadlines would drift; assets would lounge in lowercase; and elegance would never make it past the foyer.

Theodore does not seek credit; he seeks excellence—quietly, consistently, and always with just enough judgment to keep the standards, and the designers, elevated.