Johnno the Merry Minstrel has discovered a lost prophecy written in the 16th Century by Sir Osric Wungo, foretelling doom at the hands (or feet) of the June Taylor Dancers. But Lord Jeremy Coldsore is unconvinced.
“Wasn’t he the chap who spent all his family’s money trying to find a lost city built by woodchucks?” he said.
“Let me break in before the suspense becomes unbearable,” writes the author, Violet Crespuscular, the Queen of Suspense, introducing Chapter DCCXLII of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. Honk if you find the suspense unbearable.
“Never mind the woodchucks!” Johnno retorts, performing a secret finger signal to find out whether Lord Jeremy has joined the June Taylor Dancers. It turns out he hasn’t. Johnno is very much relieved. “Mr Pudding’s newts,” he adds, “will soon stamp Scurveyshire’s doom with ‘Return to Sender’!” (We pause for Ms. Crepuscular to reflect on the merits of the U.S. Postal Service.)
“What happens, though.” wonders Lord Jeremy, “if, after they’ve polished off the June Taylor Dancers, the newts turn on us?”
Not knowing the answer to that question, Johnno runs screaming into the forest. There’s no hope of catching him–“Not with that 20-pound accordion I’m carrying around today–I wonder why!” Jeremy soliloquizes.