Alright folks. Here's the deal.

Stephen King done fucked up. There, I said it.

You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. Maybe someday in the not-so-distant future I will look back at this moment and this post and chide myself for not having more faith. But, children, today is not that day.

Walter, The Man In Black, Flagg, whatever you want to call him, is dead. He died in a sad, pathetic way that was not worthy of him, to a foe who was also not worthy of him, and I'm extremely bummed out to see how King neutered a man who had been so very promising by turning his victories from other books into cheap tricks. Not only that, but he was compelling. I wanted to know more about him! And instead I get to spend the rest of the book with Mordred, whom I couldn't give less of a shit about.

Meanwhile, our crew of gunslingers is taken through an interdimensional doorway that is starting to "go bad", and it takes a few minutes for them to recover from the vomiting before they realize that they've been joined by an odd crew of misfits who all seemed to be expecting them. Turns out, these dudes are all Breakers who have defected from the Crimson King's grand plan. They live in Algul Siento, which is basically a cartoonishly beautiful town that sits in the middle of a howling, blistered, scoured-bare wasteland like some kind of desert mirage. These guys have their reasons for joining up here, but mostly those reasons seem kind of lame and I'm not sold on any of this. But I guess we shall see!

Thanks so much for listening, and I will see you soon!