The Chronicles of Wormwood was irreverent and entertaining, At its root, it was thoughtful and well-plotted.

The Chronicles of Wormwood: The Last Enemy, the long-awaited sequel, is disappointing.

It's not just that it's short, but damn, this takes the "brevity is the soul of wit" philosophy too far. It's not just that it's not worth reading if you haven't read the first one, but a little more individuality wouldn't hurt.

It's simply that this wee sequel serves little purpose. Yeah, the anti-Christ tries to get his girlfriend back after cheating on her with Joan of Arc. Yeah, the evil Pope tries to get in his way by sending a gnarly assassin after him. But this book hinges mostly on the gross-out factor of the killer, who's been mutilated in a deeply personal way, if you know what I mean, and it's presented here in far too much graphic, icky detail.

This book's purpose is, I suppose, to exist. It reminds readers that the first book is still out there. Otherwise, I'm not sure there was much point to publishing it, and there's surely little point to purchasing a copy. Perhaps the next sequel will do better.