“I wrote this chapter in advance, some 12 or 13 years ago…” So Violet Crepuscular, the Queen of Suspense, gets out of doing any work on Christmas Day. I’m only here to get a laugh.
This serves as Chapter DXXIV of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. Let Violet herself induct you into its ventricles (I just work here).
“Once a year, on the day after Christmas,” writes Ms. Crepuscular, “Lord Jeremy Coldsore treats himself to a shave and a haircut at the atelier of M. Philippe Guignol, known affectionately as Cheap Philippe.” The shire’s regular barber’s nickname is “That Butcher.” There will be no time for this, once the rhino eggs hatch.
Dr. Weezle, in the meantime, has just come out of hibernation only to find that he slept through the summer and has awakened just in time for winter. He makes a beeline to Cheap Philippe. He very badly needs a shave.
“I got trampled and gored by a rhinoceros,” Lord Jeremy reveals. They have been placed in adjacent chairs. Philippe doesn’t like his customers to communicate in any way, so the conversation stops. Philippe is not the kind of man you argue with.
“Make sure you catch the next chapter!” Ms. Crepuscular adds. “I promise it’ll have you talking to yourselves!”
Is that good or bad?