... and sudden shocking violence, all loosely tied together by a road-movie theme. What is there not to like in Denis Johnson's pulpy potboiler? His male characters are 1-dimensional thugs - or just maybe 1½ dimensional in the case of our 'hero' (that is SOOOOO the wrong word!) Luntz, and his women are stereotypically compliant sex objects. It's very short - under 200 pages and rattles along at a helluva pace. Classic literature it ain't, but it's peppered with enough classy one-liners and dark humour to reward the reader - provided they're not too faint-hearted. I'd love to quote a few of Johnson's bons mots here, but Amazon would probably censor them! You may hate yourself for enjoying this, but you, like me, will probably find Nobody Move utterly unputdownable. The end comes rather abruptly - I remember thinking 'how the hell is he going to tie up all those ends in the couple of pages remaining?' - but is quirky and clever. Finally a mention for the great packaging - gotta love that semi-opaque claret-red dust cover concealing the anonymous road-shot.