Pete Robinson never meant to suggest the drawing-and-quartering of Mayor Kunkel, although he did mention that Toyotas and Subarus might make excellent substitutes for horses. But, after all, the fact that Mayor Jim Kunkel had first fired Stinger missiles into the Botanical Garden reflecting pool, massacring innocent picnickers, did require some kind of response. In this lovely seaside community, Turtle Pond Park is stocked with claymore mines and most houses are fronted by moats swimming with water moccasins or pits filled with wooden spikes.

Amid all this bedlam, Pete Robinson, former third-grade teacher and amateur medievalist with a 1:32 scale model Inquisition-era interrogation chamber in his basement, has an epiphany: he should run for mayor. Here in Donald Antrim's first novel, are the elements that have made him one of the most critically acclaimed writers of our day: the unerringly astute and skewed observations, the precise and brilliant language, and the uncanny ability to create wildly funny narrative out of the margins of our culture.