Okay. So, a shape-shifting shark assassin lures the would-be assassin she herself hired) into a magical bath, and casts them both adrift in a magical sea. When the tide turns (tide - get it?), thanks to the flexible knife of a panty waistband, the hired assassin is left to paddle for her life in a canoe carved from the dead shark. Oh, and there's a cop with an over-developed sex life (not to mention a disfigured girlfriend with a chainsaw for an arm) who has body parts growing behind his organs, leaving him to urinate fingers and give birth to severed heads through his anus.
Lest you fear I've spoiled the entire plot, we've only reached the first chapter of Chainsaw Cop Corpse. Wol-vriey proves himself one of the weirder, yet paradoxically more accessible, purveyors of Bizarro fiction, pushing the limits in every possible respect, but never completely crossing the line between narrative and self-indulgence.
This is one of those books that demands you strap in, hold on, and just enjoy the ride. If you're not at least a little disgusted, a little creeped out, and a little nauseated, then you're not reading close enough. Like your twenty-seventh time through the twisted pretzel of a rickety wooden roller coaster, however, you're bound to enjoy the ride. Once you've shot out of the gate, the ride up that first hill is a bit slow, but once you plummet over the top, the story kicks into high-gear and never stops.
There's a healthy dose of violence, sex, profanity, gore, psychological mayhem, and pseudo-philosophical musings along the way that illuminate and accentuate the story. Surprisingly, there's also some significant plot development, including a few twists and turns that actually move the story towards a climax, as opposed to just mess with the readers head. Like all Bizarro fiction, you're either going to love it or hate it - there's no middle ground - but you'll feel dirty either way.
Published November 2012 by Bizarro Press
Paperback, 208 pages