Sam and Milo aka S&M: A Splatter Comedy
Chisto Healy
Unveiling Nightmares, Ltd. (May 15, 2024)
Reviewed by Nora B. Peevy
Have you ever wondered what it would be like getting abducted by the world’s funniest and most sadistic serial killer? Well, Marty doesn’t have to wonder. Plot spoiler—Marty dies at the end or lives. Haha. But before Marty dies or lives, there are so many delicious and gory scenes and the most hilarious soliloquies from our chatty and beloved killer/narrator Sam. In fact, Sam is a whizz with words, I think he’d make a good sponsor for Toast Masters, if he could stop himself from inventing new ways to put holes in people to violate them, which is Sam’s favorite hobby. Not something you would mention on a speed date, in my opinion. I don’t think you’d get too many dates. Actually, I don’t think Sam has a lot of dates at all, but maybe, that’s because he was married to the most heinous (in his opinion) woman of them all and now has some very solitary hobbies in the middle of nowhere, involving Marty … until he dies, as I mentioned. Already.
After poor Marty loses his eyeball, is thrown down a cliff, pissed on, breaks his leg, manages to claw his way to the top of the cliff and starts slowly crawling his way to freedom in the vast forest, only to be fed a literal shit salad, Sam is already on a long, masochistic and romantic date with Milo, the man in the purple pants with the salmon shirt and the cocky attitude who will soon be … well, let’s just not spoil that part of the plot for you. Let’s just say it’s very original and very painful. But who REALLY wears purple and salmon together? Sam and I both want to know about this.
Chisto Healy writes the most sidesplitting, filthy, disgusting grossout scenes that should make me want to vomit and starve myself for at least a month in penance for enjoying the book so much, but nope, I can’t do it. I guess I must be a real sicko too because I almost peed my pants more than once howling aloud reading this story in one sitting, which didn’t exactly make my napping cat a happy camper, but hey, what does he know? He licks his own butt and that is way nicer than anything that happens to anyone in this book. Sadly, when it came to offing the woman he married, I wanted it to be more twisted and demented than the rest of the book and I’m not sure if that makes me a f*cked up monster or just a two-time champion of our judicial divorce court system in America. Needless to say, I will never gaze at a safety pin, a metal straw to reduce my eco footprint, or a PVC pipe and a bucket in the same way EVER. Kudos to Healy for a depraved hellish amusement park ride. Tickets for two next time? I have a date I want to bring along. I’ll show up with roses. *grins*
Chisto Healy has written so much, I’m surprised he still has any fingers left. I went on his Amazon page and his bio says he tries to “write one chapter or one story a day.” I think he’s succeeded. He’s in too many anthologies and has too many collections and novels to name all of them here, but a bunch caught my eye. I need to read Attack of the Killer Crabs, Oh F*ck, A T-Rex, Watch out! It’s in the Trees! (The Green Rain Series), The Dying (book 1 of The Shadow Work Trilogy), and The Death Digger, written by Healy and his son Boe Healy. Pick up a book or two and a couple snacks. Maybe, don’t pick up the snacks, if you have a weak stomach. Just pick up a bucket and 7-Up®, but don’t go down the aisle with the PVC or buy a metal straw because you think you’re helping to save Mother Earth. Just trust me on this one, okay?
