5.0 out of 5 stars
Buy, Don't Rent "TUXES"!, September 17, 2009
This review is from: Tuxes (Paperback)
Scott Fivelson's novel "Tuxes" evokes the television show "Dallas" had it been written as a no-holds-barred sitcom the likes of "Soap." It's wacky, irreverent, and stocked with a cast of characters apt to do anything, and ANYONE, at any time. It's also a page-turning corker, a screwball-comedy that never lets up.
The story involves formalwear conglomerate--Tuxaco--which is, naturally, located in...Texas. More specifically, in Bundleworth, TX, a town that derives its name from the chief owners and operators of Tuxaco, the Bundleworth family. Standing, dapper and daunting, at the head of the family, is 70-year old Price Bundleworth, the probable inheritor and acting CEO of Tuxaco. He's an intimidating combination of sartorial perfection and the perfect storm. All about two words: making money, he's not satisfied with making mere millions, his goal is to achieve world-domination by taking Tuxaco from the Stone Age to the forefront of ubiquitous, multi-media-fueled, extremist (is selection of the Polar Ice Cap as a sales base extreme enough?!) capitalism.
At his side, at least in the physical sense, is his ever-bored wife, Mavin. She ought to be happy, and anything but bored, having been plucked from her prior existence as an IHOP waitress to be Price's other half. But, as Mavin has come to realise, there IS more to life than trend-setting parties, globe-hopping getaways, and living in the lap of luxury, especially when your other half barely acknowledges your existence.
How this unlikely couple ever produced two children, Cad and Avaris, well, Fivelson leaves that to the imagination, because he has better things to tend to, such as propelling the plot along at breakneck speed. To that end, not soon after we learn the facts about the unfortunate passing of Cad (a fabricated death certificate was created marking his "disappearance" due his anti-Tuxaco and anti-capitalist, and therefore, anti-Bundleworth tendencies), we are re-introduced to that very same son, now returned from the Far East, and ready to "...make money."
Meanwhile, off on the ski slopes of Europe, sister Avaris, the "superbitch formalwear heiress," continues her hunt for the perfect mate, and pursuit of whatever else the millions at her disposal will allow her to buy, barter, or bully. She returns to the Bundleworth manse after wiping out on a ski run in the Swiss Alps, spending some of her time on the vast property riding her horse, which is appropriately named "CHEAP SEX."
The return of the children marks a brief period of familial bliss. But, that joy is quickly disturbed when Cad unearths the most unlikely of heir's to the Tuxaco billions while breaking ground at a tuxedo-rental-store location in the Arctic Circle. No thanks to a renovated bylaw that he initiated, patriarch Price sees his imminent position as Tuxaco's President given away to this unlikely, though positively familial, heir. What follows, well, that is in the apt hands, and resourceful mind, of the author.
Fivelson provides one-liner after one-liner throughout "Tuxes," and slings arrows far and wide, leaving no one safe, not even the ever-likable Phil Collins (whose Muzak-ed version of "Separate Lives" provokes two lovers to stop their amorous advances for the purpose of turning off the radio from which the song emanates). Each supporting character--Price's nail-gun wielding personal secretary, Flora Wallstander, and garage security guard, Burlie Knightol, to name but two--adds to the festivities, bringing their peculiar idiosyncrasies to the comic mix.
To his credit, Fivelson has authored a screwball comedy that delivers the goods across all 170 pages. Believe me, if you like your humor off-the-wall, pick up a copy of "Tuxes." You will be turning those pages, and laughing while doing so, from Prologue to finale.
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