Introducing Chapter DCLXXXIX (“Don’t you just love Roman numerals!”) of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, Violet Crepuscular, the Queen of Suspense, shows that she has not forgotten that Scurveyshire still lies under a curse pronounced by the medieval sorcerer, Black Rodney.
“It’s those singing millipedes,” she explains. “They are not what they seem!”
Indeed, they have invaded Bombo’s Bakery and devoured the wedding cakes–another obstacle to the impeding nuptials of Lord Jeremy Coldsore and Lady Margo Cargo.
Surprisingly, it’s Constable Chumley who has the insight here. “Yair, veevy millerpeeds dyne swick yon ferfel!” Now all they have to do is find a ferfel and put it to good use. Unfortunately, no one is quite sure what a ferfel is.
“As justice of the peace,” trumpets Lord Jeremy (without a trumpet), “I declare this day, December Whatever, as Find the Ferfel Day! Everyone, pitch in–unless you’d rather live with the racket those millipedes are making!” They have moved on from Anchors A-Weigh to Jimmy Crack Corn.
“It’s Rodney’s Curse!” Ms. Crepuscular declares.
She has not mentioned the guy from the collection agency who was run over by a truck and now is enshrined in the novel as Squire Gervais Pong. Chances are she’s already forgotten him.