Editing Violet Crepuscular’s epic romance, Oy, Rodney, shouldn’t happen to a dog. Now she says her notes are lost, she has to write some kind of bilge about Ice Age woolly mammoths terrorizing the English countryside during Queen Victoria’s reign. I don’t understand “has to”!
Scurveyshire is right smack-dab in the middle of the mammoths’ projected course from Whitby on the North Sea to Bowling Mickle in Cornwall. Assisted by various incapable people, Lord Jeremy tries to organize an evacuation.
“That word is spelled wrong,” I complain to Ms. Crepuscular on the phone.
“Shut up,” she reasoned.
The American adventurer, Willis Twombley, who believes himself to be Sargon of Akkad, has some advice to offer.
“Move everybody into Coldsore Hall and block up all the doors and windows,” he says. “Then, when the mammoths come, everybody bang on pots and pans until the brutes flee back to where they came from. We used to do that when the Mitanni raided us. Worked like a charm!”
Constable Chumley agrees. “Say-ay mon differy, moddle my gurth!” he ululates.
The mammoths are expected to stumble into Scurveyshire at 9:16 tomorrow morning.
“Be there or be square,” says the author.
https://www.google.com/search?q=the+jungle+1952+movie%2C+mammoth+scene&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS758US758&oq=the+jungle+1952+movie%2C+mammoth+scene&aqs=chrome..69i57j69i64.13249j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:f64db826,vid:vEuMMsZv-lA,st:0
Can you beat that? They didn’t put their mammoths in the trailer.