Tag: silly romance novels

The Legend of Doris Pokeweed (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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

There are too many June Taylor Dancers to fit into Scurveyshire’s rustic little gaol and Constable Chumley has sought enlightenment at the bottoms of several tankards of ale at The Lying Tart.

Introducing Chapter DCLXXII of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular braces her readers for suspense. “THIS,” she writes in all caps, “is where the legendary Doris Pokeweed comes into the story.” {Editor sweeps his papers to the floor and goes to join Constable Chumley at the pub.]

In what way, shape, or form is this Doris Pokeweed legendary?

“No one in Scurveyshire can remember a time when Doris Pokeweed didn’t live here,” Ms. Crepuscular cavitates. “Popular belief credits her with immortality. ‘She rode with Boudicca,’ says Johnno the Merry Minstrel, ‘and bowled with Francis Drake.’ I’d call that pretty legendary!”

But there is a fly in the ointment. (There! Got him out.)

June Taylor herself has fallen for Lord Jeremy Coldsore and wants to bring him back to the Twentieth Century with her–where his two left feet will make him a celebrity, if not a cash cow.

“Do not think this has escaped the notice of Lady Margo Cargo, Lord Jeremy’s betrothed,” Ms. Crepuscular writes. But for the time being I must leave you in suspense!”

How to Get Rid of the June Taylor Dancers (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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

The critic snickers evilly. “Backed yourself into a corner, eh, Violet? Not so much the Queen of Suspense as the Queen of Confusion! I can’t wait to see how you weasel your way out of this!”

Ms. Crepuscular replies, “I won’t even have to break a sweat! Just watch me.”

In Chapter DCLXXI of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, we find the June Taylor Dancers (from the old Jackie Gleason show) ensconced (she loves that word!) as the dictatorial and quite unlawful rulers of Scurveyshire. Constable Chumley has been trying to arrest them.

“Can’t you get these women off the streets?” cries Lord Jeremy Coldsore, justice of the peace.  The constable replies, “Verver yon maire sich frankincense, yeevie”–to which no answer can be made.

For the time being, everyone in Scurveyshire is required to dance when they want to go anywhere.

But Johnno the Merry Minstrel has it figured out.

“It’s a time-warp,” he explains. “The June Taylor Dancers are involved in a temporal shift. If it can be reversed, we can send them back to their own time.”

Blowing a raspberry hi-res stock photography and images - Alamy

“So there!” Ms. Crepuscular crows triumphantly. “Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Critic! And no more toothpaste and tobacco cupcakes for you!”

The Tyranny of the June Taylor Dancers (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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

Introducing (or not) Chapter DCLXIX of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, shares an intimate moment with her readers.

“I always listen to publishers,” she writes, “so when a major New York publisher told me to go soak my head, I took it literally and did my best to comply. Only later did I realize that ‘literally’ really meant literarily–as in one literary personage to another.”

Having filled her sink with water, Violet reports, “I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t breath with my whole head under water! I think I almost drowned! I must of tried this half a dozen times, and always got water up my nose when I tried to breathe.”

Meanwhile, in Scurveyshire, the June Taylor Dancers having kicked the rampaging rhinoceros out of the town, the troupe has set itself up as the new absolute rulers of the town and instituted mandatory dancing lessons.So one problem has replaced another.

In his capacity of Justice of the Peace, Lord Jeremy Coldsore has ordered Constable Chumley to arrest the June Taylor Dancers–although fitting them all into the town’s single little jail cell has created yet another problem. As the constable remarked, “Yea the vimbers hallis brogh!” Who can disagree?

The Queen of Suspense Does It Again! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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

This is probably something you should remember, in case a rhinoceros wakes from hibernation and goes on the warpath in your town.

Introducing Chapter DCLXVIII (we’re pretty sure we’ve got those Roman numerals straightened out) of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, “The Queen of Suspense,” confides in her readers, “This is probably something you should remember in case a rhinoceros wakes from hibernation and goes on the warpath in your town.”

The quick wits of Ms. Crepuscular found the solution that saved Scurveyshire. The high-kicking June Taylor Dancers literally kick the rhino out of town.

Marilyn Taylor Gleason Widow of 'the Honeymooners Star Dies - Guardian Liberty Voice

Too many kicks even for a rhino!

The crisis having passed, Lord Jeremy Coldsore climbs down from the tree in which he’d sought refuge.

“This would be cowardice in anybody else,” states Ms. Crepuscular, “but in Lord Jeremy it is only another kind of bravery. Besides, he has always been afflicted with rhinophobia. It’s not his fault. There will be no cure for rhinophobia until 2023.”

[“Rhinophobia? Wouldn’t that mean ‘fear of noses’?” asks the editor who is about to be fired. Editors are a dime a dozen. Queens of Suspense are hard to come by.]

CONTEST! A tin of toothpaste cookies to any reader who can form a convincing and really cool theory of how the June Taylor Dancers wound up in this story.

The June Taylor Dancers to the Rescue! (Oy, Rodney’)

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

Well, it looks like she’s got the Roman numerals straightened out. That brings us up to Chapter DCLXII (whatever that is) of her immortal epic romance, Oy, Rodney.

You knew she’d come up with a way to stop that rampaging rhino, didn’t you? But you never would’ve guessed how she would do it. You thought it was going to be Willis Twombley, the American adventurer who thinks he’s Sargon of Akkad. But he’s still counting his bullets.

Out of nowhere, when all hope seems to be lost, and the doom of Scurveyshire assured…Enter the June Taylor Dancers!

460 June Taylor Dancers Stock Photos, High-Res Pictures, and Images - Getty Images

Who knew this would happen? You need a berserk rhinoceros kicked out of town, who better to do it than the June Taylor Dancers?

It’s touches like this that make Violet Crepuscular, “The Queen of Suspense,” one of a kind. Maybe even less than one of a kind.

It’s useless to argue with her. “Some of you will sneer, some of you will jeer, and I don’t wanna hear!” She writes, introducing the chapter. “It’s called poetic license–or something. But what do you mugs know about it?”

We are glad to see Oy, Rodney back on track. [Lightning bolt just misses editor.]

‘Oy, Rodney’: The Saga

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

There’s a rampaging rhino on the loose in Scurveyshire, but not to worry–Violet Crepuscular, “The Queen of Suspense,” is back on the job, back to her laser-like focus on the plot.

Introducing Chapter DCXLXI (or whatever it is) of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Ms. Crepuscular addresses her readers directly.

“I am back on target!” she declares. “Yes, my lords and ladies, I have learned ny lesson! No more long, drawn-out digressions on that poop of a baby-sitter that I had when I was six. Nor will I venture into politics, or offer resolutions to burning social issues. From now on, it’s Plot, Plot, Plot! Just like an Icelandic saga–didja ever read one of those? There’s this saga about some guy named Egil, or Harvey, or something…”

[Editor runs screaming to the sidewalk.]

By now the angry rhinoceros has made a shambles of Scurveyshire’s Museum of Agricultural Implements. Charged with stopping the unstoppable conquering beast, Willis Twombley, the American adventurer who thinks he’s Sargon of Akkad, is still loading his six-gun.

“Better hurry up,” says Johnno the Merry Minstrel, “or there’ll be nothing in this town worth saving.”

“You made me lose count of the bullets!” grumbles Twombley.

[Yes, she stopped writing here. No, I don’t know why.]

How Doom Didn’t Come to Scurveyshire (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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

Introducing Chapter DCXLXI of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, “The Queen Of Suspense,” takes some time to denounce a baby-sitter she once had.

“She was only 16 at the time,” writes Ms. Crepuscular, “but she was already headed for a life of crime, vice, and torpor! I can’t tell what my parents were thinking of, going out and leaving me alone with that woman! I was only six, how could I defend myself?”

[The editor sighs as he reads the long list of grievances against young Violet’s baby-sitter.]

There’s a homicidal rhinoceros on the loose in Scurveyshire, but we don’t think Ms. Crepuscular is going to get to it this week. She just keeps carrying on about that baby-sitter–whom she refuses to name.

“Trust me, you’d know this name if you heard it!” she writes. “In fact, you may have even once admired this appalling person. ‘Look what she’s achieved!’ you’ll say. To which I must reply, ‘Villains! Dissemble no more!'” She has been reduced to stealing a line from The Tell-Tale Heart.

We will try to get her back on track with the plot by next week.

We do not know what brought up the subject of the baby-sitter in the first place.

 

Doom Comes to Scurveyshire (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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“The time has come,” writes The Queen of Suspense, Violet Crepuscular, introducing Chapter DCXLX of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, “for us to spelunk into the darker regions of Rodney’s Curse, where doom will come to Scurveyshire and adjoining hamlets in the winsome English countryside.” [Editor: “I quit!” He is not sure the Roman numerals make sense.]

Scurveyshire’s rogue rhinoceros has just knocked down and trampled Bysmal’s Pyjama Emporium and fled away with nightclothes streaming from its horns. “I have included the above video,” Ms. Crepuscular writes, “so that readers with sheltered lives will have some feel for what the people of Scurveyshire have to contend with. And all because of a curse pronounced some six centuries ago!” Or whenever.

Charged with getting rid of the rhino before it depopulates the shire, Johnno the Merry Minstrel pops into The Lying Tart for a nip of ale and some discreet poking. The town’s most prominent citizens have joined the secret poking ring. “Between this and the rhino,” Johnno muses, “it looks like our number’s up.”

“Do not despair, loyal readers!” adds Ms. Crepuscular. “In ancient times there was Beowulf to save a troubled kingdom. Now there is the American hero, Willis Twombley!” We did not notice when Twombley was promoted to Hero.Let’s hope he can handle it.

Hellzapoppin! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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“The hibernating rhinoceros awoke with vengeance in its heart.”

No author can do very wrong by opening a chapter, a story, or a novel with a sentence like that above, penned by Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense. She then wades into a lengthy introduction of Chapter DCXLIX of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. (I must add that if Silas Marner had featured some sentences like that, I wouldn’t have been so averse to it in high school. A hibernating rhino would be a definite improvement.)

As it happens, Scurveyshire’s hibernating rhinoceros has indeed awakened, and torn its cocoon to shreds, and embarks on a rampage that detracts from Constable Chumley’s  investigation of a ritualistic poking ring that convenes in the back room of The Lying Tart. Alarmed by this sudden rush of events, Lord Jeremy Coldsore appoints Johnno the Merry Minstrel acting constable pro tem. They had to catch him first.

“I want that rampaging beast dealt with and that ritualized poking stopped!” says Lord Jeremy. “If you think you’re not up to the job… well, pretend! No one will know you’re only pretending to enforce the law.”

Johnno is not sure there is a law against ritual poking.

As for the rhinoceros, an ear-splitting bellow from behind the barn suggests a clear and present danger…

And she stops there??? That’s not “suspense”! That’s just shilly-shallying! I’m not even sure a rhino can bellow. Has she ever heard one?

An Apocalypse of Poking (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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Introducing Chapter DCXLVIII of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, “the Queen of Suspense,” gets what she describes as “a shirty letter” from a reader in “that notorious pest-hole,” Bazooka Hills, New Jersey.

“If you stopped with those stupid introductions already, the book’d be only half as long as it is,” writes Bella Oxmix.

“If you stopped breathing you’d be a better person!” snaps Ms. Crepuscular.

Meanwhile poor Constable Chumley, trying to get the goods on the ritualized poking ring supposedly meeting in the back room of The Lying Tart, has caught sight of a picture of himself in his disguise as a ghost; and having forgotten it is only himself with a blanket over him, has had to be hospitalized for a massive panic attack. (Go ahead, I dare you to diagram that sentence!)

This has not comforted the author.

“I’ll fix that Bella Whatsit!” Ms Crepuscular vows. “Wait’ll I bring that rhino out of hibernation! Guess who’ll be the first ne’er-do-well to be impaled on its horn!”

I heard about a movie once, I think the title was Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia. It is said Ms. Crepuscular has memorized the entire screenplay.