Tag: Violet Crepuscular

The Royal Millipede Inspector, Continued (‘Oy, Rodney’)

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

See the source image

Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, is angry with her readers (No, I will not add, snidely, “What, all four of them?”). Having invited them to name the Royal Millipede Inspector, who incidentally is Lady Margo Cargo’s long-lost love, Ms. Crepuscular was offended by the tepid response among her readers.

“I have a good mind to delete him from Oy, Rodney,” she says, introducing Chapter DCLXXXXV of her epic romance. “By gum, the millipede inspector who comes to my house doesn’t belong in any romance! But this tragic figure, this man who has forgotten his own name, whose only interest in life is millipedes, this poor jidrool who once vowed undying love to Margo Cargo when he saw her, as a little girl, catching and eating tadpoles, this pure tottering wreck of a man–oh, the music he and Margo could have made together!” He plays the spoons. Lady Margo plays the comb and paper.

(Nothing has happened in this novel for three weeks.)

But what’s this we hear? Can it be true? Oh, forsooth, we heard it clearly this time.

The Picts are coming! The Picts are coming!

It’s been 1,700 years since this last happened, give or take a few.

Looks like Scurveyshire is in for a blow!

Naming the Millipede Inspector! (‘Oy, Rodney’)

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

See the source image

In case you missed it–performing brain surgery, putting out a fire, whatever–Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, last week threw open her in-progress novel to her readers… announcing a contest to name the Royal Millipede Inspector in her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. The prize: literary immortality!

Since then, two or three entries have poured in from all over the world.

From Pungdoosh, Afghanistan: “What are you talking about? What is milly-peed, please?”

A reader in Fitzburgh, Kansas: “Is this with Reader’s Digest?”

And from Sverlovinsk-Druzh, Siberia, “My mother hurt her coccyx yesterday.”

None of this gets us into Chapter DCLXXXXIV of the romance. “For that you need a ladder and a crowbar!” quips Ms. Crepuscular. “All I can tell you is, once we get the millipede inspector named, and he and Lady Margo recognize each other as long-lost childhood sweethearts–well, oh-boy, things are gonna sizzle! But good!”

Notice we’re going nowhere at all without a name for this character. We leave him inspecting the streets of Scurveyshire for sub-standard millipedes.

A Special Announcement from The Queen of Suspense

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

See the source image

For those of you who’ve been enjoying the saga of Oy, Rodney as it piles up chapters like a hoarder piles up newspapers and magazines, Ms. Violet Crepuscular, “The Queen of Suspense,” has an important announcement to make.

“As everyone who’s been reading this epic romance knows,” she says, “Lady Margo Cargo’s childhood sweetheart has become, in the intervening 48 years, the Royal Millipede Inspector. He has also forgotten his name, it’s been so long since he used it!

“Here’s where you come in, dear reader. Or go out. What is the Millipede Inspector’s name? Coming up with it will be a contest for youse guys! I will actually use what I feel is the most apt name suggested by a reader. So the prize is a kind of literary immortality.”

Ms. Crepuscular vigorously rejects the allegation that she has run out of plot and is, as it were, simply treading water until she can think of something.

“Certain critics are never satisfied!” she declares. “These are no better than conflationists. Readers ought to shun them!”

Here are some millipedes to inspire you… if you’re the type who gets inspired by millipedes.

Millipedes - Control of Millipedes in the Home. | Kiwicare

Lady Margo’s Childhood Sweetheart (‘Oy, Rodney’)

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

See the source image

As fate would have it, the Royal Millipede Inspector is Lady Margo Cargo’s childhood sweetheart. He was hard to find because, through years of disuse, he has forgotten his name. Queen Victoria addresses him as “Hey, you!”

“This is crucial to the development of the plot,” explains our author, Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense. She does not explain how it’s crucial, nor are we at all sure, anymore, what the plot of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, is. Is this really Chapter DCLXXXXI?

Anyway, it’s been 48 years since Lady Margo last laid eyes on the dashing figure of a man who was to become the Royal Millipede Inspector and now looks something like a millipede himself.

Ms. Crepuscular digresses: “Ain’t life funny? They could’ve been happy together! The guy was all lined up to be a Navy officer when he got sidetracked into millipedes. And now he don’t even know his own name!” [We cannot account for the author’s grammatical lapses–The Editor.]

The publisher, we have heard, is offering a handsome prize to anyone who can take Oy, Rodney off his hands

‘The Queen Has Noticed!'(Oy, Rodney)

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

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

You may remember, if you have nothing better to do, that Scurveyshire has been invaded by singing millipedes. As disconcerting at this is, it’s about to get worse. The Queen of Suspense, Violet Crepuscular, introduces Chapter DCLXXXX of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney.

“What a scandal!” she croons. “Queen Victoria has found out about the trouble in Scurveyshire. Behold! a sample of her dialogue.

“‘Caw blimey!’ says Queen. ”’Ere now, wot’s bloomin ‘appening aout thare? ‘Ay?'” (“That will get you started in understanding the way they talk on PBS,” Ms. Crepuscular confides in the reader.)

The millipedes, meanwhile, have ditched Jimmy Crack Corn and moved on to O, Them Golden Slippers. At night you can hear them slithering down Main Street–millions, nay, billions of them!

“Here is an image of a bunch o’ millipedes,” writes Ms. Crepuscular, “along with a piece of a poem about millipedes by Francois Villon.

Watch Swarms of Millipedes Join Ranks to Survive

“They come in swarms, in hideous forms–

They’re worse than April thunderstorms!”

Now it’s only good suspense writing to hold off till next week, or whenever, the resolution of this problem. What, you don’t think it’s a problem? Wait’ll you’ve got a houseful of millipedes!

Will Queen Victoria send the Royal Millipede Inspector to Scurveyshire?

And will that worthy turn out to be Lady Margo Cargo’s childhood sweetheart?

Only Violet Crepuscular knows! Ask everybody else if they care.

The Singing Millipedes (‘Oy, Rodney’)

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

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

Okay, The Queen of Suspense, Violet Crepuscular, is up and around again and ready to go back to finely crafting her interminable–sorry! Immortal! I meant immortal–historical romance, Oy, Rodney. 

When we last checked, most of Scurveyshire’s pressing problems simply evaporated while Ms. Crepuscular was in bed with the collywobbles. She says she felt better and got up when she heard the millipedes sing.

“What did they sing?” asked the editor who should have known better. He had a feeling the answer was going to be Anchors A-Weigh. 

But Violet is already off on another track.

“Last week, you will recall, I mentioned a guy from the collection agency who got run over by a truck,” she writes. “I case you were worried, I can tell you that he wasn’t badly injured, just a little problem with the coccyx. But I felt badly for him, so I decided to include him in my book. Here you will get to know him as Squire Gervais Pong, formerly of the Isle of Wight, former explorer of The Land of Great Big Salamanders, now settled in Scurveyshire as a beloved money-lender: the loan shark with the heart of gold!”

Popular demand will not allow her to distance herself from the millipedes.

“They’re singing The Curse of an Aching Heart–all right? You got a problem with that?” She is losing patience with her readers. “They really don’t deserve me!” she says.

Scurveyshire at Peace, Sort Of (‘Oy, Rodney’)

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

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

Somehow all of Scurveyshire’s most pressing problems went away while the author, Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, stayed in bed. June Taylor Dancers, rampaging rhinoceros, all that other stuff–now that we’re being pushed into Chapter DCLXXXVIII of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, it’s all given way to peace and quiet. “You can hear the millipedes sing,” writes Ms. Crepuscular. She’s out of bed now.

“I am sure many of you have noticed,” she writes, “that if you can duck certain problems long enough, they evaporate. Just poof, they’re gone! Like that lout from the collection agency who was bugging me so much. They said he got run over by a truck.”

This sets the stage, she explains, for the resumption of preparations for the wedding of Lady Margo Cargo and Lord Jeremy Coldsore.

Uh… How does some guy from the collection agency getting hit by a truck set the stage for a wedding in Scurveyshire?

“This is what I deal with all the time!” expostulates The Queen of Suspense. “People are determined not to understand what you mean! But I will not write down to their level! Pulitzer Prize committee be damned!”

Readers’ Letters to The Queen of Suspense (‘Oy, Rodney’)

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

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

Violet Crepuscular, The Queen of Suspense, is sorry she threw open the door to readers’ suggestions for Chapter DCLXXXVI of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. Here are a few samples smuggled out of the house before she could delete them. (“I am buying an alligator to guard my home at night!” she warns the public. “Break in at your own risk.”)

From Poona, Ohio: “Why don’t you write about that nice couple on the book cover? Six hundred chapters, and you ain’t giving them a wink!”

Yurm, England: “D’il a-crawly wip al yon leggety scramps!” This was the most unkindest cut of all.

Chakmalmez, Honduras: “There isn’t much romance in your romance! How about some scenes of torrid lovemaking?” (Violet replied to this one, “How about you go skydiving without a parachute?”)

Ongs Hat, New Jersey: “Keep it up, Violet! And while you’re at it, give us a couple of juicy murders, a genius sleuth to solve them, UFOs and aliens, and those things that look like pumpkins!”

Kizzuwatna, Asia Minor: “Go soak your head.”

Violet Crepuscular today is unavailable for comment. It was all we could do to get her to bed last night. Usually she stays up to watch wrestling; but after all those nasty notes and emails, it took a fair among of wrestling to calm her down. We are going to untie her this morning so she can write a little.

Lost! The Missing Executioner (‘Oy, Rodney’)

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

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

Violet Crepuscular, “The Queen of Suspense,” has decided not to write Chapter DCLXXXIV of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney. “It’s too complicated,” she explains. “Besides which, the Crown’s traveling executioner has gone missing–lost, somehow, on his way to Scurveyshire. This happened fairly often in those days.”

Meanwhile, for all the short time which they served as absolute rulers of the shire, the June Taylor Dancers still managed to repeal all the laws of Scurveyshire but were expelled to Tannu Tuva, in Central Asia, before they had any time to replace the laws.

“Isn’t that a fine mess?” laments Lord Jeremy Coldsore. “As justice of the peace, how am I to enforce the laws when there are no laws?” He is exasperated by the vicar, who keeps meowing for more cat food.

The disappearance of the executioner is a cause for concern. Willis Twombley, the American adventurer, has raised a dozen pesetas with which to bribe the executioner: it is known that this official prefers Spanish money. “What do I do with all these pesetas?” Twombley asks rhetorically. “They won’t take ’em in The Lying Tart. I wish I’d never fed the vicar all that cat food!”

“We are now,” Ms. Crepuscular reminds her readers, “in Chapter DCLXXXV of my epic romance, Oy, Rodney. The next chapter, DCLXXXVI, I throw open to suggestions from the readers. What happens next? You, dear readers, must decide!” [Editor resigns in frustration, vows to have no more to do with any form of literature.]

Feeding Your Vicar Cat Food (‘Oy, Rodney’)

Posted By: leeduigonPosted On:

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

Violet Crepuscular, “The Queen of Suspense,” prepares to launch Chapter DCLXXXIV of her epic romance, Oy, Rodney, with these few words to the reader.

“Imagine how different the whole world would have been,” she aviates, “had Parliament not passed a law forbidding the feeding of cat food to members of the clergy! I for one can’t imagine it! In fact, I think I’d better go lie down.”

We can only speculate on what she would have or might have written this weekend, had she been up to it. Dog-walker Eileen Spelunky of Baldy, Wisconsin, thinks she has the answer.

“But I ain’t tellin’,” she asserts: “not unless I git $500.”

We know what’s wrong with Ms. Crepuscular: all those toothpaste sandwich cookies going to bed, not to mention washing it down with maple syrup. It makes me woozy, just to think about it.

Meanwhile, we have not been told how far the traveling executioner has yet to go to reach Scurveyshire. Willis Twombley is sure he can bribe him to drop the case. “I wouldn’t of given the vicar no cat food,” he explains, “only he kept meowing for it.”

[I’m sorry, that does it–a lie-down for me, too!]