IT WON'T GET YOU ANYWHERE by Desmond Skirrow


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No, it won't. But you won't really mind. Not when you're provided with such entertainments as a villain who says: ""I am Welsh. I intend to switch England off and let it die in the dark."" And you have a hero who replies: ""You must be right off your bloody Welsh nut."" And so they both are, and so is the author who has provided some embellishments to the spy (""Ya gotta have a gimmick""--courtesy--Gypsy Rose Lee, quotes ours) syndrome. The Welsh wiseacre is one Lord Llewellyn who has spent years insinuating himself until he is now ""the single most powerful force in British Industry."" He controls the electrical cables and can, at a simple flip of the wrist, plunge the country into a permanent blackout. The reason? He is Welsh and hasn't adjusted like Richard Burton. The man to stop this is one Brock, impressed, depressed member of the Secret Service. There are some electrifying episodes, like the time Brock is pitted against Llewellyn's manmade killing machines in au arena defined by shockingly deadly high voltage. And on and on like Su-u-per-man. Comic-al.

Publisher: Lippincott