Romancing the Scone

The Perils of Peregrina, Part 3

Another Best-Smelling Romanse by

Barbarouse Cartwhorse

The Story So Far-fetched:

Peregrina Incongrue-Snaime was born an orphanie nurse, and brought up
in the gloom-cupboard of her stricked and Scottish arents, the Misses
Pilchardie, who hath an ailing nephue, Sheamish Ailynge, loched in a
secret tour since before birthtime, feddup once a mouth on gruelty and
only aloud out in a wealchair to see the yeerily festerful of the
khyber tossers. One day Sheapishly arse Perregrina, on bendid wheel, to
please be his wipe "till deaf do us part". Peeregrina is touched in her
very boddice and cunsents, so she returns a tearfully "yes alright ok"
and the inphallid fainsay, creeping for joy, plights his trothe and a
loch of heir in a lochet, the little plighter. But then, the tarragont
local heartless genitalman Lawd Hamarcy! For Peregrina's famouse
boddyce is alas ruedly manhanded by His Lewdship in a writhing accident
one Sonday, writhing being Peregrina's true love since chidehood, she
good riddance across cantry for ours. So disdressed is the pawed girl
at this dreadful traume that she flease to London, accrumpanied only by
her staunch, the faithful teasemaid Dora Pert, and cherishable
collection of favourible boddices. Where, working as an earse in the
horspice of St Pancreas and saving many lies during the woore, she
makes the aquaintdance of the brillious and ever so machore and
surgeonly Dr Archibald Patch, who is transfused by her Youth in Asia.
But though the Much Loaved Doctor ardent whenever he seize her, the
hearts of Perygreena is torn in for. The moony and mostly foreigner
artiste Garfield DuPlissit moodishly pays her caught, and until one day
the international Man of beseenfulness and playsure Sir McCarrion
Grantley, a selfmaid tuckseedo man of many facetious facets and
savoir-flaire. Likewise others nicely ironed and with red hair and no
names. Peregrinna is at sexes and sevens. Till when one day she meets
oh Everard Prong the famouse dumb actor! Married amid much rump and
sherrymoney to her devoted Prongue but still thinking of yon wan
chilledhood sweatheart in his we'llshare and oats in distaunt Shitland
she meanwily she becomes celibated as a poetyourself and writer of
considerable notepad, and builds up her hussiness empire "The Boddice
Shop" to great cretical acclamber. But one day on a paparanzing holiday
in Greace she meets Count Mario Jo, oh little does she? no. Count Mario
(or Bazouki Jo as he was none) the wicked latin loafer kidnabs her with
a dirty tryst and she fines herself louched in a remote Greek
dungerness under a breadshop on an eyeland with no escape from his
greecy advances. But she rebuffet Mario breadfastly every morning
because she wish to remain chased. Underturbaned, Mario unlocketh her
cell greecily and bringeth a flute to torment her wickedly. "Marry me
my girl in a traditional roysterous greek ceremonkey with much dancing
and plucking of shtrings please dough i bagel you my direst or it's
frenshe sticke and haught crossbunce for you my girl" he warms her with
a greekish breadcrumb that she hoovers only too well.

Now read on...