Two-time loser Marty Pell had a one night stand with Lady Luck and four years later he's fresh out of prison, out of options and out of fucks to give. Pell is no longer incarcerated, but he's hardly free. The bastard child of that dubious encounter, the buried chunk of Uncle Sam's gold bullion, is just laying out there, begging to be claimed. With the help of fellow blue-collar opportunist and partner in crime, Shad Dupree, he sets out to find the fortune they stole—stole fair and square. Too bad they're not the only ones looking.
The waltz to this buried treasure crosses and double-crosses paths with bucketfuls of honorless thieves and murderous mercs. Once the winnowing begins, it leaves a trail of bodies straight to the end of the rainbow.
If Pell and Dupree can slip the Gordian knot of bloodletting and survive the mother-in-law of all cluster-fucks they might live long enough to be rich, very rich.
—Pop Noir caught up with Southern Gothic in a ramshackle joint just beyond the outskirts of Civility, Florida. The resulting issue of that dubious encounter is Bob Truluck. There’s luck enough to go around—grab you some.