Hindu Sex Aliens — Larry Weiner

“Hmmm … let's see. Beautiful islands. Check. Friendly undead. Check. Reminders of bloodshed and death everywhere we look ... I dunno, hon. It's a mixed bag.” The band's getting back together once more. But this time, nobody's feeling it. The bicker gang of PARADISE ROT and ONCE AGAIN, WITH BLOOD is rapidly losing its taste for luring clueless Middle Americans to obscure tropical-island resorts. Not to mention unwittingly luring them into the clutches of the local ancient undead. Or having to rescue said morons from said bloodslurpers and fl eshsnackers. But here they are -- Cate Hendricks and fellow ad creative/nutjob/horndog Kyle Brightman chief among them -- on the Indian Ocean island of Soma Indra. Putting together another fi rst-rate ad campaign. Pulling together another train-wreck assortment of guests: Burned-out suburban housewives who are semi-sick of men and seeking sisterhood through yoga sessions. Socially inept software engineers who may or may not be aliens looking to screw their way to species perpetuation. Oh, and did we mention the thousands of Hindu deities looking to rewrite the Kama Sutra during their annual R&R retreat? Yeeeeaaaaaah. This should go well. Especially when the gang runs into its most insidious and powerful nemesis yet: Larry Weiner. How does this therapy-addled, midlife-crisis dingus know who they are? Where they're from? How they think? And what evil plans does he have for them? And why do they want to be thoughtful, responsible grownup-type adults all of a sudden? Part meta-fi ction, part Metamucil, HINDU SEX ALIENS is the cerebrally comic conclusion to Larry Weiner's uproarious trouble-in-paradise trilogy