Squeeze Me: The ultimate crime fiction satire for the post-Trump era (Skink)

by Carl Hiaasen

“Pruitt, listen to me. A one-handed amateur should not be dicking with live explosives. That prosthesis is fine for routine household tasks—washing dishes, folding laundry and so forth—but not wiring a bomb. Just a thought.”

At noon she drove to a stable in Wellington to remove what the owner described as a “seriously fucked-up squirrel.” He claimed it was terrorizing the show horses.

“Look, I know you guys don’t train for situations like this.” “There’s never been a situation like this. Anywhere. Ever.”