Satirical crime fiction with more bullets than common sense.
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Formerly a crossing guard, Frankfort Petersén gained notoriety after preventing a parade float from colliding with an ice cream truck using only a whistle and a dream. He now documents his totally real investigations in what critics are calling "memoirs" and his ex-wife calls "a prolonged delusion."
He resides in Welvin, Massachusetts with his angelfish Fitch, his modified Glock, and a growing collection of sharpened pine needles.
70% confidence. 30% unprocessed trauma. Infinite ammo. Zero chill.
Frank Peniston—Welvin's most overprepared, underqualified vigilante—is back. This time, he's touring the local pencil factory. But something smells off. And it's not just the eraser rubber.
When a routine guided tour turns into a high-stakes graphite conspiracy, Frank uncovers Project Scriber—a corporate plan to embed smart surveillance tech inside school pencils. The deeper he digs, the wilder it gets: biometric scanners, sentient algorithms, deadly Scantrons, and a mysterious woman who knows how to handle a No. 2.
Armed with nothing but an infinite-clip Glock, a duct-taped gadget belt, and an unquenchable thirst for Full Throttle, Frank must infiltrate the pencil prototype wing, take down a rogue AI, and survive another obscenely metaphorical 69 scene—all while battling the most painful kidney stone of his life.
From the warped mind of Frankfort Petersén comes a brutal, hilarious, and deeply stupid mystery-thriller that dares to ask:
What if your pencils were listening?
And what if the man trying to stop them was absolutely not okay?
★★★★★ “A fever dream of patriotism, pencil shavings, and pelvic thrusts. I wept. Then I bought a second copy.” — Definitely Not The New York Times