Downtrodden Abbey: The Interminable Saga of an Insufferable Family by Gillian Fetlocks

since.”
    “Please God, no,” groans Vile.
    Lady Marry sits in silent prayer, hoping against hope that this idiot does not remember that she was to be his bride.
    Later, in a private moment with her father, Marry insists that the man claiming to be Pettrick is a fraud, and encourages him to consult Miss Marple to investigate. When Lord Crawfish informs his daughter that Marple is a fictional character, she is stumped and takes to bed. When she awakens, Atchew is gone, certain that between Pettrick whoever-he-is and Calamine, Marry’s dance card is full.
    Meanwhile, Calamine starts making plans to share Hoare House not just with one roommate, but two. He asks Tyresom to consider moving over to work as his and Lady Marry’s butler.
    “I would never and could never be in the employ of anyone but Lord and Lady Crawfish,” Tyresom responds. “He is the kindest, most loyal master I have ever served, and I’ve become quite attached to him over the years. She is equally lovely and feels like a sister to me. It is simply out of the question.”
    “That’s a shame,” says Calamine. “I was planning to pay you another ten shillings a week.”
    “You know what?” counters Tyresom. “Let me think about it. Sometimes change is a good thing.”
    Roderick can barely stand the machinations that seem to have taken over Downtrodden Abbey. Calamine summons Slovenia to seduce Atchew in the likely event of his return, to lure him away from Lady Marry. Flora supports this devious plan, fearful that the product of an Atchew-Marry union would be a child who also cannot choose the right fork with which to eat an entrée.
    Lord Crawfish’s only solace is the appearance of a new maid at the great house.
    She arrives on a crisp autumn breeze and virtually melts Roderick’s heart on sight, sweeping him off his feet like a mixed metaphor that wants to be a simile but ends up one big confusing cliché.
    Her name is Jen Nehsayqua, and she definitely has a certain something. But it is not the woman who catches Lord Crawfish’s fancy—it is her eight-year-old son, Fergie. In Fergie, he seems to see possibility. Is he the son Roderick never had? The very heir to Downtrodden Abbey, in short knickers and a beanie? Does the Earl of Grandsun look at this pre-pubscent lad and, quite possibly … see himself?
    “Roderick, you bloody ninny,” Flora says in their bedroom, on the evening of the mother and son’s appearance. “You’re looking in the mirror.”
    Realizing he must keep his growing obsession covert, Lord Crawfish attempts—with varying degrees of success—to hide his interest in the boy.
    Mr. Brace receives news that Viral—refusing to grant him a divorce—has presented the judge with a roll of tape with which she claims he bound her one evening after a fierce argument over fornication. He is particularly dismayed to see how the tabloid papers are handling the matter:
    SEX TAPE SCANDAL
    The crippled valet of one of England’s most prosperous men, Roderick Crawfish, the Earl of Grandsun, is apparently the focus of an inquiry brought on by his disgruntled wife. Court papers reveal that in November, John Brace reportedly used tape to fasten his wife Viral to a banister and read her the complete works of Geoffrey Chaucer. His attorney has a sore throat and is unable to comment. The London Library claims that the Chaucer books have been overdue for several weeks, and Brace faces stiff penalties.
    “This is an outrage,” Brace complains to Lord Crawfish. “I don’t even like Chaucer.”
    “Seriously? You can’t mean that. He’s the father of English literature, dear boy. He put Middle English on the map, at a time when French and Latin were the dominant languages in England.”
    “You’re missing the point, Milord. These papers are constantly getting the facts wrong. This is a major embarrassment. I fear that Nana will leave me when she hears of the mere mention of these alleged misdeeds.”
    Lord Crawfish is not so sure,