
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!”


