In a council flat beneath the flight-path to Heathrow, Emmanuel/Manny Marbas, fallen portrait artist and frustrated film-industry painter, is living with Jabba, an obese hedonist awaiting alien intervention. He’s becoming fixated by letters arriving for a previous tenant which detail the increasingly bizarre plight of Elijah, a pensioner suffering from dementia. Manny is hiding from his past: the father that deserted him, the mother that never was, the Russian oligarch’s daughter he loves too much and his own shameful abuse of the homosexual Bishop of W.; his physical mistreatment and vile misrepresentation in oils. Manny is on the slide, looking for distraction amongst cockeyed bungled robbery, drink, drugs and prostitutes. He travels north with a gun and a silencer to rectify things as best he can for Elijah. Manny’s extreme act of salvation is witnessed by Vernon Prendergast, a sinister, murdering narcoleptic hospital technician who holds the key to Manny’s past but might also be the death of him. Put Charles Dickens, Chuck Palahniuk and Ignatius Reilly into a blender. Press the button. Try not to get your clothes dirty…