Tag: Oy Rodney

Violet Crepuscular: ‘I Have No Ideas!’ (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Sooner or later it comes to every writer (with the notable exception of Edgar Rice Burroughs): that conviction of utter hopelessness, that inability to write another word. We call it “Maria.”

Everything is set up for Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, to embark on Chapter DCCXLIV of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. The June Taylor Dancers are lurking in the woods around Scurveyshire. Lord Jeremy has his 20-pound accordion. {“Does it weigh 20 pounds, did it cost 20 pounds, or both?” we hear you ask.) Mr. Pudding has organized his newts.

And there’s poor Violet, stuck in neutral.

“A Greek fortune-teller told me this would happen!” she confides in her rapidly diminishing host of readers. “How told me in great detail how to avoid it; but I don’t speak Greek, so I didn’t understand a word of it.”

The publisher is thinking of bringing in a ghost writer, but that would require a seance.

“I have to break through!” Ms. Crepuscular agonizes. “There must be dozens of readers waiting tensely for my next chapter!” Will the newts run wild? Will the June Taylor Dancers dance to Lord Jeremy’s tune? Has the evil medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney, come back to stay? Is the theater really dead?

[Advice to Violet: You need an agent, kiddo. Binky Fong Associates is looking for new authors to introduce to a largely Manchurian audience. Tell ’em A Guy sent you.]

‘The Return of Black Rodney’ (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon‘

At last! Chapter DCCXLIV of Violet Crepuscular’s classic (if interminable) romance, Oy, Rodney.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Ms Crepuscular addresses her uncountable multitude of readers. “I misplaced my notebook and couldn’t remember what was supposed to happen in the story.” She refuses to tell us where the notebook turned up. When our associate editor tried to find out, goons came to his door.

“A lot of people are mad at me for bringing the June Taylor Dancers in and making them villains,” she continues. “Well, wait’ll you read about the music Lord Jeremy plays on his 20-pound accordion! We’re thinking of including an audio disc in the book, when it’s published. Warning! It would be most unwise to play this music to any potentially dangerous animals or humans.

Meanwhile, we are still waiting for Chapter DCCXLIV. She hasn’t told us anything about it! Has she actually written it? We sent some of our goons to her door to find out. (Yes, there are more goons in the publishing industry than you would ever imagine. We can’t do without them.) After some very rough treatment, Ms. Crepuscular admits she hasn’t written anything in several weeks.

“I can’t help it!” she exfoliates. “Haven’t you ever heard of writer’s block? That awful, unbearable sense of just not knowing what to write! I wake up screaming, I tell you!”

The medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney–well, he seems to be missing, too.

The Accordion Man Cometh (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

We are offered a rare glimpse into the creative mind at work, thanks to a notebook carelessly left on a windowsill by Violet Crepuscular, The Queen Of Suspense.

With the June Taylor Dancers, from the 1950s, lurking in the woods around Scurveyshire in the 1850s, what role will Lord Jeremy Coldsore’s 20-pound accordion play in saving the town? And don’t forget Mr. Pudding and his newts! A reader in Pastiche Grove, Michigan, forgot… and a giant spider got her.

The notebook, written in Cretan Linear A, provides tantalizing sketches of the June Taylor Dancers warding off the attacking newts while a bearded man with strange anatomical features (two left hands, for instance) plays a large accordion.

“Over the past 70 years,” she writes, reverting to English for the nonce, “I have found Cretan Linear B superior to the Indus Valley Script when it comes to keeping notes. And either one will drive would-be plagiarists crazy! Go ahead, sucker–plagiarize this!”

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

“I like the Indus Valley Script for day-to-day reminders involving goldfish food, etc.; but as you can see by this example, Linear A has it beat.”

Indus Script - World History Encyclopedia Obviously not suitable for serious literary porpoises!

Warning! June Taylor Dancers Alert! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

“I have posted this video to show you what Scurveyshire is up against,” intones Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, introducing Chapter DCCXLIII of her interminable epic romance, Oy, Rodney. 

“As you would know, if you’d been paying the least little bit of attention, the medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney, has it in for Scurveyshire,” Ms. Crepuscular reminds her loyal readers. How many of those there are, is anybody’s guess. “He has transported the June Taylor Dancers from the 1950s to the 1850s. This video will show you why!”

“Have you ever seen anything more fiendish?” she crepusculates. “Mr. Pudding and his newts will be hard-put to save the shire from this!” It turns out that certain species of newts are immune to accordion music. The guy at the pet store told me so.

With her usual commendable foresight, Ms. Crepuscular has already equipped Lord Jeremy Coldsore with a 20-pound accordion. To those who object that he hasn’t the foggiest idea how to play it, Ms. Crepuscular replies, “Shut up!”

Tune in next week to see what happens.

It’s War! (Oy, Rodney)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

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.

 

The Mysterious Mr. Pudding (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Mild-mannered Mr. Pudding, and his newts–he’s so mysterious, not even Violet Crepuscular can tell you what he’s doing here. And she’s the author. It’s her fault.

“All we know,” she feldspars to her readers, “is that it’s Mr. Pudding’s newts, trained killers as they are, vs. the June Taylor Dancers! And the very existence of Scurveyshire is at steak!” (Yes, I know I spelled it wrong.)

Lady Margo Cargo is the first to notice the skeletons in the alley between the village pet shop and the Pike-O-Pay Tooth Care Emporium. She loses no time in reporting it to Constable Chumley, whose reaction is predictable: “Yan spivey fole o’ grist’um good,” he recites.

Busy, busy, busy! A few minutes later it’s Johnno the merry minstrel reporting that he has seen a few of the June Taylor Dancers sneaking around in Scurveyshire’s Forest of No Deposit, No Return. “What are you going to do about it, Constable?” he snaps.

“Fivvy for fordy or fyte,” Chumley concedes.

As for Mr. Pudding himself, Ms. Crepuscular knows hardly anything at all. “Any reader who might have any information on that subject, please contact your local police department and ask them to contact me so I can contact you.”

Mr. Pudding vs. The Deadly Dancers (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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The new plot thread is installed, and it’s a corker! June Taylor Dancers vs. Mr. Pudding’s newts! Grab a ringside seat while you can!

JACKIE GLEASON SHOW: AMERICAN SCENE MAGAZINE, June Taylor ...

Lest anyone should sell short the June Taylor Dancers as a threat, here they are in 1960 marching Jackie Gleason off to a secret facility under Yankee Stadium. There they refashioned his mind. Ouch!

Meanwhile, writes author Violet Crepuscular, The Queen Of Suspense, “Those newts are all trained killers! Under his meek exterior, Mr. Pudding is as mean as Yul Brynner in The Light at the Edge of the World!” We are not convinced that many people saw that movie. But if you watch it very closely, you might catch the fleeting cameo appearance by several of the June Taylor Dancers. They were going to make it a musical, but Kirk Douglas refused to play kazoo and that was that.

Where are we, anyway? Last I heard, it was Chapter DCCXXXII… but this latest one is labeled DCCXXXVIII. Did we just skip six chapters somehow? And whatever happened to Lord Jeremy Coldsore and Constable Chumley?

“They are under cover–so don’t blab about it!” Ms. Crepuscular shushes her readers.

Here’s the original Janet Kendall cover, in case you were missing it and felt rather sad.

Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Deadly Dancers! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

New life has been injected into your favorite historical romance! I wish we could say the same for Oy, Rodney.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!” Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, addresses her readers. “I am about to reveal the reason for Mr. Pudding and his newts being in Scurveyshire. And as Constable Chumley would say, ‘Yare an’ baggidgy!'”

As an editor, I am almost embarrassed to mention this–this I dunno what. Well, here goes.

Mr. Pudding is in Scurveyshire hiding out from the June Taylor Dancers, who have been hired to “whack” him.  He is putting his trust in special magical powers which he believes Lady Margo Cargo to have. (“It’s news to me!” she corruscates.)

Lord Jeremy Coldsore went to see the June Taylor Dancers at the Coccyx Garden in Tibet. That’s how he is able to recognize them sneaking into the village, one by one, despite their clever disguises. “The one done up as The Easter Bunny threw me for a bit,” he confesses, “but then I remembered we’ve already had The Easter Bunny, so this one must be an interloper.”

(“Don’t forget Mr. Pudding’s newts!” Ms. Crepuscular counsels her readers. [I wonder how many there are.] “The June Taylor Dancers won’t get past them as easily as they think!”)

Queen Victoria Steps In (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Her Majesty’s government have written off the Royal Millipede Inspector as an unfortunate loss; but Queen Victoria herself is very much annoyed with the folks of Scurveyshire for stirring up the Picts. Read all about it in Chapter DCCXXX of her classic historical romance, Oy, Rodney.

“Blimey!” exclaims the Queen. “I’ll ‘ave that ‘ole Coldsore fambly hung out to dry, y’all jist see iffn I don’t!”

“There is some argument over whether Queen Victoria actually talked like that,” admits Ms. Crepuscular. “One critic complained that I have made the queen sound like an out-of-work laundress. Well, I know of one author who says she really was an out-or-work laundress! Put that in your cup of tea and smoke it.”

Meanwhile, the Picts have settled down in Portugal and become indistinguishable from the native Portuguese. Scurveyshire, however, remains overrun by large stick insects (that’s another thing that’s cheesed off Queen Victoria).

“Be sure to tune in next week to see what, if anything, they can do about it,” Ms. Crepuscular browbeats her readers. “Constable Chumley has a secret plan which he describes as ‘shabakin’ yon mistry’–which I’d say sums it up perfectly! Like toothpaste on your cold cuts!”

 

Ms. Crepuscular’s Last Stand (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Oy Rodney – Lee Duigon

Trying to finish composing her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, suddenly found herself standing on a chair besieged by large stick insects, one of which is actually the evil medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney, wielding a fly-swatter in defense of her sanity.

(Go ahead–just try to diagram that sentence!)

Yesterday Mr. Pitfall rescued her by blasting the insects with his fire extinguisher. They promptly left the house.

“I am not all right!” Ms Crepuscular confides in her readers. “For two cents I’d throw this book away and start it over!”

Good lord: all CDDXXX chapters? That’s 730, isn’t it–730 chapters scattered to the winds? I beg her not to do it. Mr. Pitfall begs her not to do it. What could be more traumatic than starting Oy, Rodney all over again from scratch? A reader in Kazakhstan begs her not to do it.

Maybe a few days away from the stick insects will calm her down. Forsooth, imagine yourself as a character in Oy, Rodney, confronted by the looming catastrophe of your whole universe dissolving into dust because some writer wants to throw in the towel. Maybe the Oy, Rodney cast should take over writing the book. It could be one of those fictional characters’ collectives.