'Percy' is, as the name suggests, the tale of Percy. Loosely based on the legend of Parsifal, but transplanted to the American Mid-West and combining mythic heroes with bikies, highly addictive drugs, cosplay, burqas, chess, the joys of sliding in Bryant Park, synchronicity, mutants, omniscience and of course imaginary bears, 'Percy' is at heart a simple tale of love, gods and fur. Featuring picaresque adventures, philosophical ruminations, and far more discussion about the ins and outs of hair than is generally considered healthy, it is a fiercely intelligent linguistic smorgasbord that works both as love affair with the written word and as a jolly good yarn. Here's what one slightly-demented (but pretty accurate) reviewer had to say: "If Kurt Vonnegut, Tom Robbins, Thomas Pynchon, Terry Pratchett and Nick Harkaway had an orgy, and that orgy produced a love-child, and that love-child was actually a book, this would be that book."