F**k, Marry, Kill Me, Daddy is gloriously unhinged, completely ridiculous and somehow bloody brilliant. Well, I know how, Lance Lansdale is how. This is his third novel and just like the first two, it’s fantastic. That is where the similarities end. This book is even more different from Lansdale’s first two novels than they are from each other. He even includes a disclaimer at the beginning, explaining that this is not the cute, wholesome romance of his last novel, A Househusband’s Guide to Domestic Bliss. That is certainly true; Scotty and Brody, the main characters in FMKMD, are not at all wholesome. They are kind of cute though. The way an enraged honey badger is cute.
Lansdale’s disclaimer also warns the reader of noncon and dubcon scenes. For those of you unfamiliar to these terms, they refer to non-consensual sex acts, or those with ‘dubious’ consent (where consent isn’t explicit, or a power dynamic forces someone to consent, for example). He caveats this warning with the belief that Brody does want what is happening, but his internalised homophobia stops him from admitting this. (As an aside, I love that Landale doesn’t presume to know everything about his characters’ feelings and motivation, because I feel the exact same way about mine; we create them, but we do not always have control of them!)
The presence of those elements, plus the fact that the ‘meet-cute’ is one MC being hired to assassinate the other should make this a dark romance. I just can’t bring myself to think of it like that though. You see, despite the morally bankrupt, traumatically damaged characters and their entirely dysfunctional relationship, it is still sort of fluffy. I think Lansdale achieves that because the whole premise is so utterly unbelievable that you just let it wash over you as you enjoy it. From the first chapter, it’s completely batshit mental. I can’t really tell you too much about the story without giving it away, but the best way I can describe it is that it’s like an X-rated Loony Tunes cartoon. The main characters are basically Sylvester and Tweetie-Pie in human form, and let me tell you, I am here for it.
Lansdale’s trademark humour is present in FMKMD from start to finish, both in the form of bone-dry wit, and outrageously hilarious ridiculousness. There’s also a host of deranged side-characters both helping and hindering the mentally unhinged main couple. There’s an insane but awesome elderly lady, who appears later in the novel to help out our boys. If you’ve ever read anything of his before, you’ll know that wonderfully woke but entirely inappropriate octogenarians are an essential Lance Lansdale ingredient. Towards the end of the novel, Lansdale laughs at himself, talking about how the “self-indulgent author builds up a new couple for the series,” which I really enjoyed. I also really liked the new couple, who were just as unstable and screwed up as Scotty and Brody.
I thoroughly enjoyed these 250-odd pages of supreme silliness and can highly recommend picking up a copy of F**K, Marry, Kill Me, Daddy.
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