Tag: Oy Rodney

So Where’s the Cyclops?

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

[Holy moly, I am tired! Can I finish the post, d’you think?]

There’s supposed to be a cyclops terrorizing Scurveyshire, and a woolly mammoth stampede, and newts (Yes, newts). Violet Crepuscular, the Queen of Suspense, has a hefty bag of tricks.

Everybody’s holed up in Coldsore Hall. Outside, the June Taylor Dancers make whoopee with the mammoths. But I can’t find the cyclops!

Cyclops hi-res stock photography and images - Alamy

See? This is what I’m looking for. Violet has misplaced her cyclops. It could happen to anyone.

And now I think I need a rest.

 

 

The Cyclops Is Still Coming (‘Oy, Rodney)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Well, we’re still in Chapter DXXXI of Violet Crepuscular’s epic romance, Oy, Rodney. “The cyclops was held up by other business commitments,” Ms. Crepuscular declares. “:I am not at liberty to disclose them.”

Meanwhile, woolly mammoths, provoked by the June Taylor Dancers, continue to make a shambles of downtown Scurveyshire. (Editor’s note: There is no uptown.) The regular people are holed up in Coldsore Hall.

Johnno the Merry Minstrel thinks he has a solution to the problem. He has decided not to reveal it. Just then–

Cyclops the 7th voyage of sinbad Black and White Stock ...

“Holy moley!” exfoliates Lady Margo Cargo. “The cyclops! He’s coming up Fulonda Hill! We’re all doomed, I tell you! Doomed!”

“Aw, dry up,” repatriates her fiancee, Lord Jeremy Coldsore.  “Anyone would think you never saw a cyclops before.”

Meanwhile Willis Twombley, the American adventurer who thinks he’s Sargon of Akkad, continues to take pot shots at the dancers.

“They ruined The Jackie Gleason Show for me, them gol-danged dancers,” he carols.

“Hadn’t we ought to save some ammunition for the cyclops?” Lord Jeremy proposes.

“Nah! Just poke out his eye with a pointed burning stick, and you’ll have him where you want him. Leastways,” Twombley adds, “that’s how we always done it in Akkad.”

Stay tuned for next week’s installment of this breath-taking serial. In the meantime… fret about it!

‘Cyclops is Coming!’ (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

With everyone in Scurveyshire holed up in Coldsore Hall, and woolly mammoths and the June Taylor Dancers tearing it up outside, it’s no wonder there’s a bidding war on for Violet Crepuscular’s epic romance, Oy, Rodney–all 530 chapters of it (we got that straightened out last week)… with more to come!

Fligh-Bi-Nite Publishing Inc. has offered $35 for the rights, while Hugh “N’ Mee Books offers $29.99 along with tickets to the musical, Bimbo Time. It is believed the June Taylor Dancers will fold like a cheap camera once they have to compete with the Howard Baseborn Dancers.

“But they aren’t falling to the mammoths,” observes Lord Jeremy Coldsore from his perch on the battlements, “even though three or four of them have been trampled into pudding.” With this comment he has made himself feel sick.

“Leave it to me, Germy,” says Willis Twombley, the American adventurer who has gone back to believing he’s Sargon of Akkad. He shoots a dancer who has been cavorting on a mammoth’s back. The mammoth trumpets his displeasure.

“No one but Violet can write suspenseful scenes like this!” deposes Lady Margo Cargo. “Whoever’s reading this should count himself–or herself–blessed beyond the ordinary lot of mortals!”

Gee wiz, Violet…

[P.S.–What cyclops? What are they talking about? Have I missed something?

Scurveyshire Goes Dark

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

We are now entering a period which historians and peanut vendors call “Scurveyshire’s Dark Age.”

The June Taylor Dancers have emerged from the forest and pretty much conquered the shire. Lord Jeremy Coldsore and his friends and family are holed up in the manor house. Peering down from the lofty tower once used as a location in The Pnath Brothers Meet the Bowery Boys, Lord Jeremy remarks to the American adventurer, Willis Twombley (who thinks he’s Sargon of Akkad), “If only they’d stop the bloomin’ dancing! It’s getting on my nerves.”

Here the author, Violet Crepuscular, breaks in.

“Before Mr. Twombley reveals the long-lost truth about the June Taylor Dancers, I must object to whoever it is out there who’s ruined my plot!” she ululates.

Before she can reveal Twombley revealing the secret, Twombley shoulders his rifle and pots the dancer with the floppy ears.

“I say!” exacerbates Jeremy. “That’s just not done, old chap! It’s murder, you know.”

“Murder schmurder, as they say in Kizzuwatna,” answers Twombley. “It ain’t nothin’ compared to what Violet’s cookin’ up for next week.”

Let us leave it at that, for now. They don’t call Violet The Queen Of Suspense for nothing.

Mammoths? What Mammoths? (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

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.

 

Alas, Poor Violet! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

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.

Return to Scurveyshire (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Well! It’s been almost two months since the Frothing Dragon invaded Scurveyshire and I, for my part, was carted off to the hospital. This left Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, with no way to carry on in print.

She did carry on in the streets, though.”Editors! Publishers! Ingrates! You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! Skink-eaters!” (That was a new one on me.)

“Here I’ve written an interminable romance–” Oy, Rodney, for those who haven’t paid attention–“five hundred and thirty chapters!–and all I get is this alibi about some bald guy in the hospital!” That was me. *Sigh*

And this is all to cover up the fact that she got as far as she got, writing this leviathan of failure, only to succumb to writer’s block. She hadn’t written a word since I got whisked away on the ambulance. Some would call that love.

So what about the Frothing Dragon?

Beats me! I’ll still celebrating WordPress letting me post a stationary image.

Wouldn’t you know it’d be Violet’s favorite image.

Tomorrow (Oh, Boy)

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While this bearded dragon tries to sort out his relationship with his reflection, I have to get ready for a lengthy doctor’s appointment tomorrow. I’ve lost track of the reason for it… subject, as I am, to the fear they’ll put me back in the hospital. Or maybe just do something really painful.

Anyway, I won’t have time to do much blogging tomorrow; so I’m asking you, the readers, what you’d most like to see.

*Resume the epic romance, Oy, Rodney.

*What Child Is This?

*Gloria (Michael W. Smith)

*Son of God (Michael W. Smith)

*Any old nooze item

I won’t have time to do them all, so I’ll be watching the vote closely.

 

More Suspense: Almost ‘Finis!’ for Violet

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

It’s not quite “The dog ate my homework,” but it does explain why we still haven’t seen Chapter DCCXLIV of Violet Crepuscular’s interminable romance, Oy, Rodney. As excuses go, this one is hard to beat.

It seems her next-door neighbor, Mr. Pitfall, had a quicksand bog installed in his front yard–sort of a fad in that neighborhood. And Violet, just as she was cogitating the next chapter of her classic romance, fell in. Just before she went under for good, Mr. Pitfall came out with his pet bison, Mickey, and pulled her out.

“The experience left me drained of creativity,” she confides in her readers, “so that chapter will have to wait until my senses return to normal. It was only the fourth time in my life that I’ve fallen into quicksand, and it kind of takes the wind out of my sails.”

We are promised a chapter next week, come what may. Really, this is playing hob with the narrative.

Can We Help the Queen of Suspense?

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

We’ve been waiting two weeks for Chapter DCCXLIV of Violet Crepuscular’s immortal romance novel, Oy, Rodney. Is she all right?

“She went out trick-or-treatin’ last night,” says her neighbor, Mr. Pitfall, “and never come back. She wears the same costume every year–a milkmaid with sort of a stuffed possum on her shoulder.” Last night was Oct. 5. “She likes to get out there before anybody else,” explains Mr. Pitfall. “Once or twice she came out in August. Nobody ever gives her any candy. I give her some chewin’ tobacco once.”

To recapitulate: The June Taylor Dancers, transported into the Victorian Age, are hiding in the woods around Scurveyshire. Lord Jeremy Coldsore is hunting for them with his 20-pound accordion. And Mr. Pudding is preparing his newts for war. There’s also something about Lady Margo Cargo discovering the source of the Nile, but Ms. Crepuscular has been strangely silent about that.

She does have a message for her readers. If you can’t find a copy of The Scurveyshire Times, here’s the substance of it.

“Dear readers, I have not stopped writing! I am only building up the suspense. That is why they call me The Queen of Suspense. That is why they call my most devoted readers ‘Idiots.’ Next week, honest, I’ll have that chapter for you!”

[Editor’s Note: Mr. Pitfall goes to bed at 6 p.m. every night. If Violet had come home at 6:15, he would have missed her.]