Tag: ‘Oy Rodney’

‘The Queen Has Noticed!'(Oy, Rodney) REPRINT

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a gripping page-turner headed for the top of the NY Times bestseller list | Romance novels, Funny romance, Book parody

You may remember, if you have nothing better to do, that Scurveyshire has been invaded by singing millipedes. As disconcerting at this is, it’s about to get worse. The Queen of Suspense, Violet Crepuscular, introduces Chapter DCLXXXX of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney.

“What a scandal!” she croons. “Queen Victoria has found out about the trouble in Scurveyshire. Behold! a sample of her dialogue.

“‘Caw blimey!’ says Queen. ”’Ere now, wot’s bloomin ‘appening aout thare? ‘Ay?'” (“That will get you started in understanding the way they talk on PBS,” Ms. Crepuscular confides in the reader.)

The millipedes, meanwhile, have ditched Jimmy Crack Corn and moved on to O, Them Golden Slippers. At night you can hear them slithering down Main Street–millions, nay, billions of them!

“Here is an image of a bunch o’ millipedes,” writes Ms. Crepuscular, “along with a piece of a poem about millipedes by Francois Villon.

Watch Swarms of Millipedes Join Ranks to Survive

“They come in swarms, in hideous forms–

They’re worse than April thunderstorms!”

Now it’s only good suspense writing to hold off till next week, or whenever, the resolution of this problem. What, you don’t think it’s a problem? Wait’ll you’ve got a houseful of millipedes!

Will Queen Victoria send the Royal Millipede Inspector to Scurveyshire?

And will that worthy turn out to be Lady Margo Cargo’s childhood sweetheart?

Only Violet Crepuscular knows! Ask everybody else if they care.

Milestone! The 700th Chapter of ‘Oy Rodney’ REPRINT

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

From March 3, 2024

This here is the 700th chapter of the epic romance, Oy, Rodney, by The Queen of Suspense, Violet Crepuscular.

“They laughed at me when I began to write this novel,” she flosticates. “Well, where’s the laughter now! Eh? Eh? Even War and Whatchamacallit doesn’t have 700 chapters!”

In the last chapter, you will remember (or not), Picts invaded Scurveyshire and made off with the town’s park bench, unaware that the Royal Millipede Inspector was sleeping on it at the time. Imagine their incredulity when they discovered him! Several Picts plotzed!

“Wot’s yer name, blast yer eyes?” demands the Prime Pict. His accent is almost impenetrable. Fortunately they both speak Classical Swahili.

The inspector, however, does not know his name, it’s been so many years since he’s used it. “Call me Ishmael,” he suggests.

Meanwhile, the good folk of Scurveyshire are blaming Lord Jeremy Coldsore, in his incapacity as Justice of the Peace, for letting the Picts invade and make off with so much of their stuff. (They did not get Lady Margo Cargo’s wooden leg. That was a false alarm: it had simply rolled under her couch.)

“What do I have to do to please you?” he ululates.

“And that,” adds Ms. Crepuscular, “is where Suspense demands a chapter break!”

Now What? (‘Oy, Rodney)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

We were deliriously excited to receive a long-sought email from Violet Crepuscular, the Queen of Suspense. Tension mounted as we worked our way into the contents. After all, we haven’t received any new material from her since March.

“Surely, all this time,” she addresses her legion of ardent fans, “you’ve been wondering about that guy in the goofy costume with the white knee socks, and the woman in the long dress falling for him. Who is he? Who is she? Eh? Eh?”

Violet’s mail man, William Faulkner (not the famous one), has accused her of being a witch. You’d think that would be suspense enough for anyone. “And I dunno about that costume!” he adds, then refuses to elaborate.

The guy who reads the meter, Millard Filmore (not the famous one) pungently disagrees. With a little bad luck the entire town could topple into civil war.

Meanwhile, there are mammoths, leprechauns, and the June Taylor Dancers to sort out (they’ve all invaded Scurveyshire).

Only Violet Crepuscular can do it!

The June Taylor Dancers at Bay (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

At last! Chapter DXXXIV of Violet Crepuscular’s timeless romance, Oy, Rodney.

But first…

“Before I expose the reader to the bone-chilling events in this chapter,” Ms. Crepuscular writes, “I would like all my readers to sign a waiver absolving Yours Truly of any responsibility for heart attacks or mental breakdowns.

“You think it’s easy, writing scary **** like this? With Mr. Pitfall breathing on my neck, no less? You know someone’s gonna up and sue me because he read that chapter and it gave him a trick knee!”

Going back several months, we had a herd of prehistoric woolly mammoths laying siege to Coldsore Hall, being encouraged by the June Taylor Dancers. But suddenly–

“Look at that, Germy!” exclaims Willis Twombley, the American adventurer who thinks he’s Sargon of Akkad [Editor screams. He’s had enough of this]. “The mammoths have turned, and now it’s the Whosit Dancers who are at bay!”

(“This,” inserts Ms. Crepuscular, ” is what makes me the Queen of Suspense! And all the others cheap imitations. Tune in next week for more!”

The Newts, the Mammoths, and the June Taylor Dancers (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Suddenly publishers have gone wild over Violet Crepuscular’s epic romance, Oy, Rodney. It’s too bad she forgot so much of her story and has to go back to Chapter DCCXLIV. She has created a continuity issue, but they want her anyway. “There’s only one Violet, and we want her!” exclaims Wanda Byaduck, CEO and Editor-in-chief at Feeble Books.

Meanwhile, it’s 9:20 in the morning in Scurveyshire and the mammoths are coming, they’re besieging Coldsore Hall but can’t get in because their author has not endowed them with intelligence, and the June Taylor Dancers have emerged from the woods and are dancing down High Street. They think they’ll get high.

“I never could stand them hairy elephants,” soliloquizes Willis Twombley, the American adventurer who thinks he” s Tab Hunter… after all those years of thinking he was Sargon of Akkad. Who’s next–Liberace? “They always give me a feelin’ of–I don’t know–findin’ out you’re really Liberace.”

Lord Jeremy Coldsore, organizing the defense of Coldsore Hall, breaks into Twombley’s soliloquy with an unseemly noise.

“Do you think your bullets will stop them, old chap?” quoth Jeremy.

“If they don’t,” sez Willis, “I can always pick off a few of those June Taylor Dancers. They were a big waste of time on the old Jackie Gleason show.”

Is it any wonder the publishers are clamoring for this book?

We Apologize for Ms. Crepuscular (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

To all of you who faithfully followed our advice and “stayed tuned” to see what Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, would do by way of advancing her plot–

And then never saw a blessed thing along those lines, nothing freakin’ happened–

We can only offer the most abject apology. We have a good mind to drop her from the program. “Suspense” should mean more than just not getting on with the story! If Perry Mason ever did half the stupid stuff The Queen of Suspense does, he’d be off the air before you could say Huatzachachimutzin.

It’s no good asking us poor editors what happened. We haven’t seen the updated manuscript. Last we heard, Lord Jeremy had a 20-pound accordion, the June Taylor Dancers were loose in the woods (without being–ahem!–“loose women”), and Mr. Pudding was girding his newts for battle.

It’s all in Ms. Crepuscular’s notebook–which is written in Cretan Linear A hieroglyphs and no one can read it. I’ll bet even she can’t read it.

The long and the short of it is, we’re still waiting for Chapter DCCXLIV of that national treasure of a romance novel, Oy, Rodney, we’re every bit as frustrated as you are, and for two cents I’d give up this job and take up alligator wrestling.

Cretan script linear hi-res stock photography and images - Alamy

See what I mean? What are we supposed to do with that?

Unleash the Newts! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Introducing Chapter DCCXLI of her immortical romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, the Queen of Suspense (some call her the Queen of Commas), tips off Willis Twombley, the American adventurer who thinks he’s Sargon of Akkad, to the threat posed by the June Taylor Dancers, ensconced in Scurvey Forest. (Wow, what a sentence!)

“I tried shootin’ ’em,” Twombley confides in our hero, Lord Jeremy Coldsore, “but they dance around so much, you can’t really take aim.”

“It doesn’t matter, old boy,” Lord Jeremy fewsters. “Once Mr. Pudding turns loose his killer newts, our dancer problem will be over.”

Newt - Wikipedia

(Here are two of them, actual size. Much more dangerous than they look!)

“Durned if I ever saw this Mr. Pudding,” Twombley says. “Where’s he live?”

“In a houseful of newts, undisclosed address,” Jeremy explains. “Supposedly he’s under the protection of an extremely high-ranking member of the government. Probably dangerous to find out who that is!”

[Ms. Crepuscular is still fighting Joe Collidge over rights to space on this blog. On Thursday she resorted to giving Joe an Indian burn. He is not old enough to recognize it as such.]

Violet Crepuscular vs. Joe Collidge (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

(Editor’s Note: We had no Internet on Friday, not till suppertime, so there was no Joe Collidge post for that week. He threatened to break his toys unless I gave him some space.)

I amb Out-Rayed!!! Imadgine!! Plublishing some stopid Rowmants insted of Socile Jutstus!! {Paragraph blacked out]

Didjiu sea “that”!”!” Thay sensered “me”!!! This heer it “is” toetully Crayzy!!!!! You doughnt senser Pro-Grestives!!!!!!!! Evvry boddy knows That!!!!!

[Enter Ms. Crepuscular. ‘Out, damned spot’ to Joe. ]

Introducing Chapter DCCXL of her interminable romance novel, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, has a bit of a fume.

“What does he mean, taking some of my space and giving it to that blithering idiot?” she demands. “Hello! Hello! I’m trying to write a novel here! Mr. Pudding and his newts–what do they care for inane American politics?

This was the chapter, she declares, in which we were supposed to find out what some of the June Taylor Dancers are doing in Scurvey Forest–and what Lord Jeremy Coldsore and Constable Chumley are going to do about it.

“I am going to hunt down this Joe Collidge nincompoop and have Mr. Pitfall break his arms!” Ms. Crepuscular writes. “How’s that for higher education!”

Boom, Boom! Doom Looms! (Oy, Rodney)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, has carried out her threat to spread toothpaste on her cold cuts and offer it to company (shades of Titus Andronicus).

Here we are, trying to get into Chapter DCCXXXII of her interminable classic romance, Oy, Rodney–and she has lost the thread of the story. She makes no apology for that.

“All I need, really, is another subplot,” she confides in the reader. “Prince Albert got lost in Scurveyshire once, and it took him three years to find his way out. But he did lose a whole year when Constable Chumley arrested him for vagrancy.”

The new subplot–ten years later–concerns Prince Albert’s plans for revenge against Scurveyshire. Lord Jeremy Coldsore is in Al’s cross-hairs. So is the inoffensive Mr. Pudding, whose only passion in life is newts.

“The thing is,” explains Ms. Crepuscular, “to make your romance romantic, because then what is romantic becomes romance.

“If I were Lord Jeremy, I’d watch my step!”

A week has been set aside for step-watching.

Bringing Back Rodney (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Introducing Chapter DCCXIX (“How do you pronounce that, anyway?”), Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, explains her decision to bring the evil medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney, back into the story.

“I know, I know–the critics are all saying he can’t possibly come back, he must be some 600 years old or more,” she pullulates. “But they have failed to reckon with time-travel spells!”

It has been, however, a long, long time since Rodney used any of those spells; and this time, something has gone wrong.

Black Rodney has come back as a very large stick insect.

“Now that he’s a stick insect,” she explains, “he has no vocal organs. He can’t talk. He can’t pronounce the counter-spell which might restore him to human form. Then again, it might not. These things are very tricky!”

What was the purpose of bringing back Black Rodney after all this time?

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud!” she cries out loud. “There’s just no pleasing certain people, is there? Just last night my neighbor, Mr. Pitfall, spat out one of my toothpaste brownies! He said it tasted like something from Pnath! I don’t know where that is. But I’ll betcha whoever lives there has healthy teeth!”

We will leave it here, for the moment.The critics are getting restless.