First published back in November of 2018, genre-splicing literary-lunatic Duncan P. Bradshaw returned following nearly two years since his last full length release, with his comically outlandish splatter-drenched novella ‘Mr Sucky’.

DLS Synopsis:
Things hadn’t exactly turned out the way that Clive Beauchamp had planned them.  It was Valentine’s Day, and he’d checked into the budget Quantico Motel with the intention of enjoying an evening with the veritable beauty that was Angela Foxe, before retiring to their room for a spot of strangulation.  Not in a kinky way mind you – but instead in a psychotic serial killer kind of way.  And of course, he’d not clued Ms Foxe in on the latter aspects of the evening’s plans.  After all, she’d hardly go along with her own murder at the hands of a serial killer would she?!

But as it transpired, young, sexy, catch-of-the-century, Angela Foxe had her own ideas.  She knew a little more about the fat, spotty, balding man she was spending the evening with than she’d let on.  In fact, Ms Foxe was one fifth of the clandestine family group, Foxe Force Five, who turned the tables on the evildoers of the country, putting an end to their reign of terror.

So rather than this hot young woman meeting her demise that evening, it was Beauchamp who ended up kicking the bucket.  Luckily Beauchamp’s murderous past hadn’t gone unnoticed by the powers of darkness.  In fact, an ancient evil by the name of Keith had kept a close eye on Beauchamp’s murderous antics.  Taking the form of a gaseous head, the evil demon had summoned one of his loyal acolytes to intervene; preserving Clive’s spirit so that he may wreak his vengeance on those that had plotted against him.

Unfortunately, Keith’s chosen assistant in the rescue of Clive’s spirit had gotten the wrong end of the stick and the ethereal essence of Clive Beauchamp transposed into that of a vacuum cleaner.

Nevertheless, rather than giving up on his serial killer ways completely, Clive Beauchamp instead undergoes a new lease of life as a psychotic the cleaning implement.  It’s time for revenge.  It’s time for some payback.

Although the other voice in Clive’s split personality has far more gruesome ideas for how their vengeance should go.  In fact, now that they’re within a Mr Sucky cleaner, the voice wants far more say in the way things will go than Clive feels entirely comfortable with.

Before the nights out, the possessed Mr Sucky will have turned the budget Quantico Motel into a bloodbath of unparalleled slaughter.  It’s time for vengeance, Mr Sucky style…

DLS Review:
Yes my friends, you read that synopsis correctly!  What we have here is a story about a short, fat and ugly serial killer who gets murdered by a vigilante killer-killing family, only to then have his soul rescued by a demon, and inadvertently put into a Mr Sucky vacuum cleaner.  Oh, and of course, said serial killer has a split personality, with a disembodied voice in his head encouraging him to slaughter and mutilate their victims rather than stick with good ole strangulation.

This, I’m sure you’ll agree, is pure gorehound bizarro gold, as only Duncan P. Bradshaw can do.  Its equal measures splatter as it is utterly-inspired lunacy.  Like a wacky-as-they-come Troma story, only with that unique Bradshaw twist added to send its craziness off the frigging radar.

One particular aspect I’m beginning to really love about Bradshaw’s offerings is the attention to detail he injects into them.  The presentation of his books becomes such an important aspect.  Here the entire book has been made to look like a cheapass Mr Sucky instruction manual.  Even down to the faux-photocopied pages and the book’s synopsis becoming the ‘Important Information – Read Before Use’ section at the beginning of the ‘manual’...presented in fourteen different languages.  Oh yes, it’s that glorious attention to detail yet again.

Then we move onto the story itself.  A story that takes you back and forth through the off-the-wall insanity of a psychotic madman’s wet-dream, made into shiny stainless steel and made-in-Taiwan plastic.  But Bradshaw’s lunacy is always so mind-bogglingly creative and always just a gnat’s pube from having its feet somehow upon terra forma.  By that I mean there’s some unique sense to be found in the madness.  Not cold, crisp logic.  But instead a sort of pact with madness to accept the irrational and find a wonderful degree of near-sense within it all.

The end result allows you to greet the appearance of invisible radioactive velociraptors with a cheeky smirk rather than a look of utter bafflement.  Simply accepting Bradshaw’s way with the world opens doors to such delightful perversity, whilst somehow keeping the story on the rails and heading in some meaningful, purposeful direction.

Reading Mr Sucky is like giving fellatio to a petrol-powered corkscrew.  It’s perverse, unsavoury and makes your mouth do altogether strange things.  But most importantly, once that badboy really gets going, you should expect tongue-ripping gore, gore and more gore.

Body parts and chunks of undercarriage junk are flung around all over the shop.  It visceral and unashamedly over-the-top.  But, as the wise Peter Jackson once said, “there’s a laugh with every drop of blood”.  And how true that is.  When Mr Sucky’s on the rampage and his hapless victims are being sliced and diced and vacuum-pact, you’ll find a wicked smile creepy across your devilishly amused face.

At the end of the day we’ve come to learn that absolutely no genre is safe in the hands of Duncan Porridge Bradshaw.  The man’s an uncontrollable maniac of brazenly outrageous fiction.  He’s bizzaro’s demented child, locked away in the attic, to be let loose only when the moon’s hanging low in the darkened sky.

Only he doesn’t so much howl at the moon as he does bark quite affectionately at your toaster, for reasons only really known to him.  But you love it.  We love it.  The world needs this.  One can never have enough Bradshaw.

The novella runs for a total of 77 over-sized maniacal pages.

© DLS Reviews



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