Who would have ever thought that Violet Crepuscular’s epic romance, Oy, Rodney, would have bogged down after a mere 530 chapters?
She blames me for it.
“What am I supposed to do with that frothing dragon of yours?” she shouts on the telephone. Really, I’m not up for this. “And I’d have married Lady Margo Cargo and Lord Jeremy Coldsore 300 chapters ago, if I’d had my way!”
“You can’t do that. It would be bigamy.”
To show me who means business, she has embarked on a new plot line that has nothing to do with anything that went before it. “It’s prehistoric mammoths tearing apart suburban villages–and we have to see if hand grenades can stop ’em,” she parobviates.
I venture the observation that there is a movie very similar to that, only set in India instead of the suburbs. This earns me 15 minutes of abuse.
Well, give her a week and see if she comes up with something. Oy, Rodney meets Dracula, something along those lines… but I’m only guessing.