In amongst all this mayhem and debauchery and ribald satire, Dimitri Kissoff manages to weave in a warped morality tale like a Tom Sharpe on speed (or a Wodehouse on weed) that reeks of the sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll tradition of which Kissoff has been a lifelong supporter. And as if these almost preposterously larger than life characters didn’t already leap off the page and grab you by the throat, the richly uproarious illustrations with which it’s peppered are also reminiscent of those celebrated Paul Sample covers for the Tom Sharpe novels – and they’re worth a belly laugh all of their own.

The Totnes Monster is a tittering, laugh-out-loud and quintessentially British brand of humour at its blackest.