Surrounded by boring mysteries

My housemate ('stablemate' from now on) bought me Twiglet Book Four as a joke birthday present. It was a joke but we both know we'll both read it and whinge but it's what binds us together at the moment.

I'm two chapters into "Stephanie Meyer's Fantasy Wedding To A Mysogynist (Only She's Too Much A Product Of Her Southern Upbringing To Realise That Her Main Character Is A Controlling Tosser); Also Featuring Stephanie's Bestest Imaginary Friends From When She Was A Lonely Teenager!" and, I swear to god, I have physically gagged more than once.