Another side-splitting slice of satire from Florida's finest
The latest comically grotesque character to appear is Bang Abbot, a ruthless paparazzo whose greatest regret was missing Michael Jackson's death scene.
A formerly respected press photographer, he won the Pulitzer with a mocked-up photo before leaving mainstream journalism and snapping the stars.
And the one he most wants to snap is Cherry Pye, the singer who first became a star at the age of 15 on Jailbait Records.
Sadly, for Cherry, she has absolutely no talent whatsoever and, as her career continues to nosedive, she has taken to hard drugs and dangerous sex with remarkable enthusiasm.
To counter this worrying streak, her paedophile manager and pushy mother (a truly hideous character that seems like Dina Lohan and Lynne Spears combined) have hired a lookalike actress to appear in public while the real deal is too baked to fulfil her duties. But along the way, Abbot's plans to get the ideal pic of Cherry Pye go hideously and very Hiaasenesquely (if you know what I mean) wrong, involving kidnap, attempted extortion and the return of Chemo, the seven-foot albino with a violent streak and a weed whacker for an arm.
And, thankfully, we also see the return of Skink, the former Florida governor who has gone ever so slightly mad, living in the boonies and surviving on roadkill.
Hiaasen ties all these strands together with his customary ease, yet it is hard to escape the impression we've all been here before.