A spoon slapping him in the face was an affront to Vesper's dignity and an affront to his dignity was an insult to the honour of his employer! This sort of thing couldn't be settled with mere magic, no the only recourse for this slight was the art of gentlemanly fisticuffs! Leaping from their makeshift boat Vesper landed atop the ramenooze and readujsted his cravat before facing Akimbold in a combat stance.
"I assure you Sir, my employer is no dragon." He helpfully informed him "They rarely have the need for the service of my august profession."
A metalurgist? Maybe. An accountant? Perhaps. Someone with a metric ton of metal polish? Almost certainly, but not a fully fledged butler. This was neither here nor there at the moment really though and Vesper unleashed a lightning fast flurry of jabs at the kobold.
Vespawnch! (INS+MIG)
Vespawnch For Realsies This Time (MIG):1d8