Excerpt:

Fleur is slumped in her chair, head tilted back, staring despondently at the stars. I listen, fascinated, as Ledger lays before me the most ridiculous, insane, undoable, wackiest, fantastic plan imaginable. It’s sick, it’s grotesque, it’s kinda really funny.

“And that’s where you come in, Mark,” says Ledger, leaning in close. “Your mum must have some tranquilisers, some sleeping pills, lying around. I need them to drug the chickens. Also, Fleur can't carry my body by herself."

“I’m not doing it, Ledge,” calls out Fleur.

“Never mind that now,” says Ledger. “Anyway, so Mark. I need your help. And you know too much to get out of it, see?”

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. But for some reason, I find myself agreeing to help out in Ledger’s crazy plan, for its own sake. Also, I like my front teeth.