Violet Crepuscular, the Queen of Suspense, ended Chapter CDLXXXX of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, with a cliffhanger: in fact, with Constable Chumley hanging from the brim of a cliff. Scurveyshire is famous for incredibly high, sharp cliffs with no geological reason for them.
In Chapter CDLXXXXI, with most of Scurveyshire focused on the annual fox hunt, now a nude fox hunt, Lord Jeremy Coldsore repairs to The Cliffs of Doom for some peace and quiet. There he finds Chumley hanging on by his fingertips, 100 yards above the jagged rocks below. If you can think of any cliches Violet left out here, please let us know.
“What are you doing there, man?”
“M’lord, vor’ mickle gascon divy,” the constable explains–and soon has Jeremy transfixed in disbelief.
“What do you mean, you were searching for King Arthur’s Castle?” Jeremy snaps. “Don’t you know that’s just a fairy tale? Ods bodikins, Chumley! A man of your age and experience! I suppose–”
But he is interrupted by a very heavy and not at all pleasant tap on the shoulder. He wheels around to find himself confronted by– [Pause for suspense, like in the movies]
A knight in full armor, on an armored steed, with a vorpal lance pointed straight at Jeremy’s duodenum. “What the–!” he cries.
And the knight answers, “Thir Lanthelot at your thervithe; and you’d betht have a good excuthe for being here!”
Here Violet breaks the chapter, to generate suspense. We are promised a recipe for toothpaste bon-bons, to shut us up.