The last time I reviewed anything by voice-of-a-generation Chuck Tingle, I wished he’d tackle the Republican party’s unexpected frontrunner. And lo and behold, this happened. I love Chuck Tingle.
Author: Chuck Tingle
WhatWhat: Journalist Pibbles Pooch catches the eye of presidential candidate Domald Tromp, and finds out his secret: he’s the Loch Ness monster. Also they bone.
“So what’s old Milk Magazine want from Domald Tromp?” I ask him.
Barno shrugs, “Typical feature about the guy’s favorite chocolate milk brand, ask him what he thinks of strawberry milk; fat free, two percent. Just the usual. You still with Bowling Bones?” (loc 30)
Only in the Tingleverse is an obsession with chocolate milk “the usual,” but there’s a strange kind of coherence emerging if you read enough of these. Or I’ve read too many of these, whichever.
“Speaking of immigration, I was wondering if you had anything you’d like to say about the dinosaurs who are upset about your racist comments regarding them crossing the border into America,” Barno suddenly interjects. (loc 67)
Soon enough, Tromps erection is standing at full attention before me, jutting out at my face like a deep green Popsicle. Without hesitation, I open up and swallow the reptile politician deep, pushing down as far as I can onto the candidate’s presidential dick. (loc 275)
Verdict: This has everything I expect from Chuck Tingle: perfect names, that one strand of saliva connecting a previously-straight guy’s mouth to an improbable penis, up-to-the-minute current affairs rendered clearly but bizarrely.
You know what it doesn’t have? Wonky punctuation. For the most part this is grammatically standard, and the first few pages are so perfectly constructed I started to worry something was wrong. Please be okay, Mr. Tingle, and don’t let this rigorous editing be a sign anything’s changed. DON’T EVER CHANGE.