“Dark and mordantly funny . . . a real machine-gun narrative—the man can tell a story, oh, yes, indeed.” —T. C. Boyle

What could cause Bob to give up his job at the Los Angeles pathology lab that demands so little of him, where he can play Tetris and Web surf whenever he wants? What could lead him to walk out on his beautiful girlfriend, who makes her living as a masturbation coach? What could make him risk everything and ultimately transform him into Roberto, a kingpin in the Los Angeles Mexican mafia? An erotic tattoo. But not just any naughty skin ink, the Mona Lisa of erotic tattoos, painted on a severed arm, which lands on Bob’s desk one morning.

Bob may have fallen for the woman in the tattoo, but he’s not the only one who wants the arm. There’s the telenovela-addicted mobster who lost it, the jefe who needs to keep it out of the clutches of the police, a backstabbing cannabis aficionado/Wharton MBA, and a wine snob LAPD detective who knows that the arm is the evidence he needs to bring down the entire Mexican mafia.