Just when it seems that life is good for Hap Collins and his new lady, Brett Sawyer, Brett gets word that her daughter Tillie is in even more trouble than most Texas prostitutes. According to midget businessman Red Ames and his buddy Wilber, Tillie got on the bad side of Big Jim Clemente, the main man in Tulsa, who sentenced her to service the Bandito Supremes, a crowd of Nazi survivalists, at their encampment south of the border. Since a rescue is obviously called for, Hap and Brett enlist the help of their friend (and Hap’s current landlord) Leonard Pine, who stocks up on ordnance like a kid in a computer store before rounding up a crew of soiled Galahads that includes “an East Texas bouncer, a black queer, an ex-sweet potato queen, a six-foot-four overweight retired hit man and former reverend, and a redheaded midget with an attitude,” as well as a smuggler they don’t trust, his paint-thinner-sniffing uncle, and a pilot who swears his plane is just fine for the trip. The only problem is that the tension among the rescuers, who are constantly making fart jokes and ethnic slurs at each other’s expense, seems to guarantee tricks and surprises that Lansdale is too lazy this time to provide. A routine adventure in between Hap and Leonard’s serious outings (Bad Chili, 1997, etc.) that’s still enlivened by dollops of the most pungent dialogue this side of Quentin Tarantino.