A Robert Rankin book. Another Lazlo Woodbine novel. Lazlo Woodbine is a private investigator (the best in the business), and is called upon to investigate. And investigate he does, if you know what I mean, and I'm sure that you do.

The first caller upon him is a Mr. Cormerant, who wishes Lazlo to investigate the disappearance (or relocating) or a black leather briefcase (containing, among other things, a pair of black leather briefs). The second caller is his own Guardian Sprout, Barry, who wishes him to find God, who has gone missing.

Of course, there is an aptly named hero: Icarus Smith, an aptly named fat boy: Fangio the fat boy, and an ingenious ploy of committing perfect crimes.

As usual, Rankin pushes the English language to the extreme, using abusive anachronistic alliterations ('faster than a ferret in a felcher's footbath'), and using words like 'anachronistic' and 'carbuncle' and 'snap-brim' and 'taurophilia' with ease.

An just a random quote off page 53:

'Pick a card, any card,' says he.
'Three of spades,' says I.
'Correct,' says he. 'But how did you know?'
'Let's call it intuition.'
'Fair enough,' said Fangio. 'I was going to call it Rush the Flush, but Intuition is better..."

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