I need to find Katie, check with the league, evade the snipers, avoid the celebrity cheese vigilantes, and find out where I am supposed to be next. Uzbekistan is a big country.

I need to find Katie, check with the league, evade the snipers, avoid the celebrity cheese vigilantes, and find out where I am supposed to be next. Uzbekistan is a big country. I don’t even know where I am supposed to land. Do they even have airports there? I round the corner and shrink back. The hallway ahead is lined with bodies. On one side are burly men and thick women wearing leather vests and jeans and wielding axes and AR-15 assault rifles. On the other side are clean cut men and women in business suits and Kevlar vests, holding rapiers and .357s. They are gesturing at each other in anger, but I can’t make out what they are saying. Suddenly Alvin Merrick shouts.: “We will settle this in the desert of blood!” Then the crowds part and head toward the parking lot. I duck and run to avoid detection.

Late at night there is a knock on my motel room door. I tiptoe to the door, look through the peephole and see Katie pacing back and forth. I open the door and pull her in without speaking.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Was there anyone else out there?”

“No,” she says.

“Did anyone follow you here?”

“No,” she says. Then thinks about it. “How the fuck would I know?”

“OK, it’s probably OK. So, how have you been?”

“Sleepy. I really just want to sleep right now.”

“OK,” I say. “You’ll need your sleep. Tomorrow or the next day we are leaving the country. Did you bring your passport like I asked.”

“Yeah,” she says, and falls face first onto the bed. I watch her sleep and feel like my heart is about to pop. Here she is. With me. Again. After all these years.

My phone vibrates.

“Ramdas Bingaman,” I say.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Willy. What the fuck?”

“Good news, man. I sold the rights to your movie to the Republican National Committee! They want to play it on all the major networks around election time.”

“What rights?” I say. “How is that possible?”

“They have to soften it up a bit, so instead of it being called Cockwhore, they’re gonna call it He’s Coming to Take Your Guns.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” I say.

“I know, but what do we care? They see it as a sign of national decrepitude brought on by loose liberal moral standards stemming from the politically correct and sexually permissive teachings in our public institutions of higher learning. We see it as a little more ka-ching ching when the rage-viewing money rolls in. The royalties are gonna be awesome! Which by the way, I’m going to send you an extra $500 for, then I was thinking we could make Cockwhore II, or He Wants to Raise the Minimum Wage or something. What do you say, partner?”

“Five hundred dollars?! That’s my cut?! Willy, you’ve outdone yourself in crappiness! I am no longer safe anywhere in the south, and my cut from the GOP promoting this nationwide is five hundred?”

“Sleep on it and let me know,” he says. “Oh, how does your ass feel?”

My call waiting clicks. “I have to go.”



“Part action, part thriller, all comedy, The Librarian at the End of the World fires on all cylinders. Fans of Thomas Pynchon and David Foster Wallace will revel in the ridiculousness that is Miller’s America.”

“A constantly surprising picaresque journey through cultural darkness”

“A most unique rollicking story that careens from the almost familiar instantly into a world of what is happening here?

“Not so much a novel as a perpetual- motion machine: part road-show, part parable, careening between surrealism and comedy”

“Laugh out loud rambling tale of the future/present”

“Prepare to be blown away”

“On the cutting edge of audacious literature”

“Takes madcap to a new level, blending Preston Sturges and Philip Dick”

“Outrageous and thought-provoking”

“Just blown away.”

“Fantastic and bizarre”

“Lovecraft turns Beatnik and drops acid”

“One of the absolutely most freakishly odd books I have ever read”

“It’s like E. L. James, Larry Flynt, and Hunter Thompson somehow merged their DNA”

“Even Carrie Fisher (yes, her vagina is in here) isn’t safe from this menace!”

“If you are looking for a completely unique book, this one is hot!”

“Funny and intelligent”

“Filled with hedonism, erotica and hilarity.”

“Only for strong and fearless readers.”

 “Wild, trippy, fun, and sometimes profound”

“I found myself engaged, disconnected and overwhelmed all at the same time”

 “No one would ever expect this”

“Imagine a world where Thin Man was co-written by Tim Leary and Douglas Adams and set in the Office staffed by assassins”

“Brilliant, raunchy, hilarious, heartfelt, and by the end, breathtaking”

 “Social satire at its best”

“In the end, this romp becomes something else. It becomes a work of art, moving and funny and memorable.”

Editor’s note:  Technically it is her vulva, not her vagina.

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