In Chapter CDLXXXXVI (dig those Roman numerals! no wonder they didn’t have a space program) of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular repeats her assertion that Constable Chumley’s mother, disguised as Thir Lanthelot the Lithping Knight, has fallen passionately and ostentatiously in love with Lord Jeremy Coldsore.
“I Inthitht you come to my cathtle for a vithit!” she declaims. Her gestures with the lance persuade Jeremy to go along.
“I notice you don’t speak in the same quaint rural dialect your son uses.” Jeremy is trying to make conversation. Constable Chumley’s mother violently hushes him.
“Thhhh! I’m lotht! Can’t find the cathtle!”
Before the discussion can ripen into something really stultifying, the wanderers make an astounding discover.
Easter Island heads–right there in Scurveyshire!
“Put that in yer pipe and smoke it!” Ms. Crepuscular gloats. “Never saw that coming, didja? And now you have to read next week’s installment to find out how the stone heads got there!”
[The management apologizes for the author’s seeming hostility toward her own readers. “She has been under a great deal of stress lately, planning to drive out to Easter Island or at least take the ferry. It’s my job to tell here there is no ferry to Easter Island. You think you’ve got troubles!”]