John Crace reduces the latest Jack Reacher novel to a more manageable 700 words”Are you Jack Reacher?””Who’s asking?””We are.””Why do you want to know?””It’s just that you look a lot taller than you did in the film.”Reacher stood up to his full 6ft 6in. Time to show these Scientology schmucks a thing or two. He threw a long left hook and twisted his shoulders. Both men sank like puppets, their heads as dented as a dented ’73 Chevy.It had been a long journey back to DC. It wasn’t easy travelling when you smoked so much dope. Last night he had got so out of it, he couldn’t remember where he left his clothes and had had to buy new pants.”I’ve come to see Major Susan Turner,” he said.”Why?” asked the guard at the camp.”I liked the sound of her voice.””Well, she’s left. And while you’re here we’re busting your ass for a manslaughter you committed 16 years ago when you were in the army. And for having a daughter from a one-night stand with Candice Dayton.””You’re talking shit.””You can’t remember because you were too stoned. Now I suggest you run for it before you do time.”Reacher rolled a joint. Several …read more

Via: The Guardian | Books