At 5:00 a.m. on the greasy streets of a city that never sleeps, the dolls are on the hard stuff and the transport's about to strike again. On the news it's all bombs and killing machines the size of tenement blocks. The only consolation for a weary middle-aged cop on his way home is a little illegal sugar and some sweet tenor sax.
But that was before they found the body that looked like somebody had unzipped it then scooped out all its insides. And the three words scrawled on an alley wall. Three red words, so fresh they were still dripping.
KLING KLANG KLATCH.
It's enough to knock out anyone's stuffing. And in Toyland, that's no joke.
KLING KLANG KLATCH is set in a superficially glittering world that, if not exactly human, reflects humanity's desires, corruption, and racism at a fundamental level. Ian McDonald's (Desolation Road) blackly bizarre wit and David Lyttleton's (Punch) razor-sharp eye for detail have created a unique fantasy with a delicious streak of dark humor.
