Nolan works customer service. He's the last employee of video game developer Nitrox, and the last person anywhere to understand the game Camopede. Nobody's called him for help in years--but the legal small print means he's still got to be available. So there he sits, in an empty building, waiting by the phone. And then one night, it rings.
It's a homicide detective, telling Nolan his dad has finally committed suicide. No surprise, maybe... he's threatened to dozens of times, and his suicide notes fill the book alongside Nolan's own story. But was it really suicide? Did Nolan help him along? Or is something *really* weird going on? A touching, funny, dark book that showcases Jones's power as a writer.

"This strange, subtle story of father-son disaffection and disjointed love is told with [Jones's] signature narrative inventiveness and dark humor." --Kris Saknussemm, author of Private Midnight

If drinking mercury from a thermometer didn't kill him, maybe spray painting in an unventilated garage would. Or so Nolan's father thought. One inspired yet failed suicide attempt after another, each with a note to his son--with only a hint of accusation.

But as Nolan sits in an empty office building, the last customer service employee for a nearly obsolete video game, those many suicide notes come back to haunt him. As do the levels of the game that no one plays anymore. And now a homicide detective is on the phone.

Maybe his father was right when he wrote that he was teaching Nolan not to give up, that the only way to understand what happened was to make it to the end of the game. But there's no cheatcode that's going to get Nolan through this . . .

"Two unreliable narrators, a bunch of suicide letters, and a plot that collapses on itself just like the characters do--Stephen Graham Jones is our contemporary Jorge Luis Borges." --Michael Kimball, author of Big Ray

"Like Lethem and Murakami before him, Jones mines his genre fiction past to bring us a work of startling literary merit. Mystery, horror, sci-fi: the ingredients are all in there." --David Goodwillie, author of Kings County

"[A] stark exploration of guilt, grief, and fear. . . . And did I mention that it's funny? Unplug your consoles, kids, and play this book." --Zack Wentz, author of The Garbageman and the Prostitute