Phyllis was very angry and upset for most of the Christmas gift opening in the Marquis' salon and was unable to engage with anyone in the room except Ratso.
Phyllis first refused to budge an inch to assist Potts with the squeaky drinks cart (by the way, there is no excuse for that squeak -- what a bunch of layabouts). He was upset that no one heaped praise upon him for his efforts in decorating the room all night long and saving Christmas once again.
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Phyllis was further humuliated by serving as a tripod/phone holder for Annemarie when he made his big announcement before Mummy/Godmother in South Africa. Snorts shot a nasty, contemptuous look at Annemarie when he realized a split-second before what was about to happen -- the only time he ever looked at him.
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No words of congratulations or even acknowledgement. No celebratory clinking of champagne flutes. Natzy the phone and e-mail assistant is now bona fide family, and Phyllis must kowtow to her also. He wanted to run out of the room and have a cry on one of the new chairs in his study. By now the others must be used to his frequent tantrums and hissy fits, and they enjoy pushing his buttons even further. They know he's more likely to shut up, or go elsewhere to sulk.
The passive agressiveness in the HMN is off the scale. Phyllis believes he has complete control over everything in his curated interiors, and he freely places things (and crap) wherever he pleases. He takes great personal offense when anyone else upsets the equilibrium of his design vision, most especially when they break the cardinal rule and place something on one of his own treasured pieces of furniture or those he considers to be his. (The inlaid flip-top tea table in the Chinoisserie dining room is one such piece that only he can use). Because he was tiffed on Christmas morning like a petulant little child, Phyllis left the bauble boxes out in full view on the side console, right up against Annemarie's chair railing and the tapestry wallpaper. At the very least, the asshole could have placed them on the ground out of view, if only for the guests, but most definitely for the climatic Christmas gift-opening vlog and its tens of thousands of viewers. But everyone had to be reminded of the work he had done. Then his beard pretended not to notice the boxes as she delighted over the expensive imported Christmas breads directly next to them. She was ticked off, but lifting a finger to sort it is beneath this princess. So they remained.
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Everyone got back at Phyllis by placing things on
his billiards table: the table that just had to be restored at extraordinary expense and then shifted from room to room at his command -- even though no one plays billiards. Poor little Phyllis must have been fuming.
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I suspect Phyllis is also still enraged for being excluded from the HMN owners' emergency powows (Fanny, Mummy/Percy, Baghead, Potty, and Potty's mom) about the death investigation. They must have told him to leave the room each time because
they had business to discuss. He's a paid employee and little else.
duck off, loser.