No, you can't really make up your own sport and your own recreational drugs in the same novel without sounding like you know nothing that is actually true about either sports or drugs. No, it is not possible to play a fucking contact sport with knives strapped to your body-and who seriously fucking does that, ever, anywhere, anyway? or anywhere local people know what you mean when you say the letters 'FBI' in a low, clear voice.

No, the yakuza do not have and never fucking came close to having a toehold in the carolinas. No, you can't shake off the effects of a concussion and climb out the window the next day after a minor coma and then walk 12 miles to sit pertly in someone's kitchen drinking a glass of water. No, there is no team sport on earth that can be competently played if its team members are as likely to get into a fistfight with one another as with the opposing team-baseball and the 1979 yankees notwithstanding. No, you probably can't drive a car for hundreds of miles while suffering the effects of a ruptured anything, never mind everything, not even if your kid is in the car with a book of matches and a gas can. No, the human body cannot be reduced to charred bones with gasoline and a couple minutes, not even if it belongs to your crazy mom. No, marginally post-pubescent children wouldn't be able to set their mom's dead body on fire with gasoline and then bury the bones on the beach without getting caught once during the entire multi-hour operation-and who does that, anyway? No, you don't go from come-down to withdrawal to i-will-fucking-kill-you within four hours of your last crazy-pill. No, antipsychotics don't actually get you high like that.

No, the NCAA would never permit a psychotic player to don a school uniform on the condition he be stoned out of his mind on antipsychotics the entire time. No, teenagers are not typically ushered into nightclubs to knock back shots.

The raven king nora sakavic summary