In our last installment, Pete started his date with the waitress, and the vampire master was evil. This reader was not that into it. But then came Part 4: Kicker of my Ass!
This section of this book rule. The opening of Pete's date was a little bit lame for me, because I was not feeling the waitress. She's one of those aggressive eaters whom you only find in fiction - the ones who eat two cheeseburgers in front of a first date, and then her date hearts her for it because She's Not Like Those Other Girls. Bah. But then, I'm thinking that vampires are where we're busy sorting out our food issues as a culture. I mean, obviously vampires have always had the whole specialized diet thing going, but since Twilight
put the thumb on the scale towards sex in the sex/death equation, I think vamp stories have been freighted with some body issues as well. (What was I reading recently where I was thinking, holy cow, could you lay on your anorexic ideation any thicker, please? Oh right! It was Fifty Shades
, which discards the vampires of Twilight
but dials the food issues up to eleven.) Anyway, point being, I thought the Girl Who Eats trope actually worked here once I saw more of Angie. I mean, the fact that she drives a Geo Metro alone makes me love her, not that that has anything to do with the food issue. But Metros rule, and I would still be driving mine had not that teenager cracked it up running a red light.
But then, in addition to Angie getting cool and not just being unattainable girl, there are several fantastic little character sketches, the best of them detailing the bad guy. We've pretty much just seen him fly around like a bat and threaten people so far - gots to establish the badassery - but this is where we get his deal, and it's good - and more food issues, if you're keeping score. There's an almost throwaway bit about one of the Emoglobin poseurs that was both funny and chilling, and I'm still in love with Pinball. I'm hoping she'll get to kick some ass, and soon. Oh, so much cool stuff happens this time around! All of this is relayed in a disarmingly effective way that runs the line between self-deprecation and self-loathing, between pathos and bathos. Good lord, that was an obnoxious way to put it, Ceridwen. He's a really funny writer, is what I mean, but there's a surprising amount of heart in the pulp comic stylins. (Previous installment)