A mysterious sealed crate, a pair of shady mercenaries with more guns than brain cells and the amnesiac robot which may or may not be on a secret mission ... Only interstellar ignoramus Hal Spacejock and the unflappable Clunk could turn a straightforward cargo delivery into space opera with clowns.
Three simmering planets, two cocky spacemen and one huge mess: Just Desserts, for your pleasure.
As they approached the counter Hal pointed out a display of oil cans. 'You could use one of those.'
'What for? I'm a sealed unit.'
'I was thinking about the ship,' said Hal. 'You could give my chair a squirt for a start.'
'Is that so,' said Clunk flatly.
'Yeah, it's got a squeak. And the cargo hold door's a little stiff.'
'I'll tell you what else we can do with an oilcan,' said Clunk, reaching for the biggest model. 'If you'll just —'
Professional Reviews
/dev/random
This book is dangerous. You should not read it on public transport. The constant sniggering and occasional bursts of hearty laughter are likely to get you strange looks at best, and a consultation with a psychiatrist at worst ... This is fantastic comedy in every sense of the word, and very addictive.
The Specusphere
How Haynes dreams up his improbable scenarios is a mystery to me, but I'm glad he does it ... enjoy another fast and furious ride with the zap-happy, zany rapscallions.
Tom Holt
I read it at a sitting and couldn't put it down. The relationship between Hal and Clunk has matured into a smooth, polished, very satisfying double act. My compliments to the chef.
Heaven sent us an angel. She could be your neighbor. Her friends call her Megan, but when her eyes are glowing, everyone calls her Ember Reign.
Megan Martin was an average teenager. She felt cheated when her grandfather died and grandmother
