I enjoyed Bauchelain and Korbal Broach's plot threads in the Malazan Book of the Fallen series the way I enjoy reading about the Joker -- I like seeing the character used well, but solo outings are usually dreary exercises in gory slapstick. here, Erikson takes his gruesome antiprotagonists solo in an attempt at channelling the spirits of Fritz Leiber, Robert Bloch, and Jack Vance, and only partially succeeds. they're not poorly written, and it's not that Erikson is incapable of wit, it just comes off better in the context of the Malazan Book of the Fallen's epic sweep of history, where his characters exercise gallows humor to offset the brutality and tragedy of events. here, he paints his satire with a brush excessively broad and bloody. but if you like reading about people slipping on discarded organs or losing their limbs in a broad spectrum of allegedly hilarious methods, you might get a kick out of these compact little novellas. and hey, at least they're over quickly.