She does re-establish contact, of course, and, equally predictably, Walter fails to contact the authorities as Clyde Potts and her associate Fox Harris inveigle the author into an escalating series of scams against corporate targets, starting with a fairly straightforward switcheroo con at an operation in the Bennigan's Irish pub-themed restaurant chain, liberating a large Afro-American inmate from a mental hospital, charging a gourmet extravaganza to Donald Trump's credit card and, finally, launching an all-out assault on a Starbucks franchise that has had the temerity to take over the premises formerly occupied by a down at heel neighbourhood Irish bar.
Along the way, Walter picks up the inspiration that gets the creative juices flowing again, though how a supposedly fictional account of these activities equates to the Great Armenian Novel isn't obvious to this reader. Predictably, by the end of the novel Walter's a best-selling author who has been able to move from his basement apartment to a large airy penthouse looking over Central Park.
Along the way things flow along at a fairly merry pace without any hint of the cornpone philosophising we've come to know and mostly love through The Kinkster's oeuvre. There are plenty of other musings there, largely along the lines of wistful reflections of the would-be romantic recovering alcoholic, so while it's a reasonable read with its share of humour it's not quite Kinky Friedman as we've come to know the dude.
Dedicated Friedman fans are, accordingly, advised to approach with caution, while those who find the regular Kinkster offering a bit hard to take might find this alternative offering a little more palatable.
Or not, as the case might be.