We have come to a pivotal chapter in Violent Crepuscular’s epic romance, Oy, Rodney. We have also come to Chapter DXL (pronounced “Dix’ll”).
Smoke or something is coming out of a crack in the ground, just where Scurveyshire Common abuts on Nose And Throat Street. Introducing the chapter, Ms. Crepuscular writes, “It’s a very bad business! The volcano could blow any minute, and Britain would have its own Pompeii. No wonder they’re frantically searching for Constable Chumley!”
Chumley is investigating goings-on at The Lying Tart, where a back room is said to be set aside, once a week, for a deadly game of ritualized poking. As the constable puts it, “‘Er mouzeful doggonit, by yon priggle!”
To prove his courage, Johnno the Merry Minstrel stands almost on top of the volcano and peers down into the crack.
“Do you see anything?” cries Lord Jeremy Coldsore, as he recovers from a brush with a Ginsu knife.
“You mean, ‘In the future’?”
That is not what Jeremy means, and he is rapidly losing his patience.
“Ah, dear reader!” flosticates Ms. Crepuscular. “What indeed is in the crack? What does Johnno see? I could tell you now, but that would ruin it for the next weekend. For the time being, here is my recipe for toothpaste and breadfruit a la mode…”
[Editor disclaims all responsibility for this. It is regrettable.]
Flosticating is immoral. Violet should go back to ululating. 🙂
Ah, but note that the smoke “OR SOMETHING” is coming out of the crack in the ground. Maybe it isn’t smoke at all. Maybe the reference to smoke is a red herring. Or maybe it’s smoked herring. Or something…. 🤪
Flosticating is definitely a very bad thing to do, but smoking herring in suspected volcanoes is hardly better. 🙂