Tempest Michaels does not believe in the paranormal, so why does he investigate it for a living? Because a typo in his advert landed him the job and clients started calling before he could get it changed. There is no paranormal of course, so Tempest spends much of his time patiently pointing out that Grandma Rita isn’t a witch, she is just ugly or that it is not a ghost disturbing your sleep, you have terrible flatulence. However, following a spate of violent deaths with vampiric characteristics the police are getting nowhere and Tempest feels that solving the mystery falls into his job description. This would be enough motivation, but when the alluring PC Amanda Harper AKA PC Hotstuff asks for his help the lonely voice from his pants demands he do all he can to solve the case, find the killer and win a one-way trip to her knickers. Aided by his friends, encumbered by his mother (Why are there no Grandchildren, Tempest?), advised by a clearly deluded occult bookshop owner and surrounded on all sides by beautiful women who just want to be friends, Tempest soon finds himself up to his eyeballs in wannabe vampires who want to kill him while simultaneously investigating reports of a Big Foot terrorising the local countryside and dealing with a pesky Poltergeist. It will get worse before it gets better and all he really wants is a date with an attractive woman.
Ok, Look. The paranormal does not exist. My name is Tempest Michaels and I am a Paranormal Investigator. I spend my working life politely pointing out how deluded people are. I’ll give you some examples: Is the cold draft a client feels by their kitchen door the ghost of their Granny? – she died right there you know. I show them the hole in their refrigerator seal. A different client engages me to capture the monster living in his pond, I capture the neighbour’s Labrador having a nice swim. Despite this daftness, I do get cases with real merit. The owner of Barker Steel Mill has died, the coroner says natural causes, but the rich widow is convinced otherwise and the Mill has a Phantom that has been held responsible for accidents dating back to 1912. The staff are genuinely scared and someone is to blame. With Amanda’s assistance I plan to find the truth and expose the Phantom, but I am really quite distracted by the contents of Amanda’s shirt, my mother wants help planning a baby shower for my sister (Don’t I need a vagina for that Mother?), I desperately need to hire an assistant to do admin and I have an actual date with an actual girl to consider. The paranormal, what a load of nonsense.
There might be no such thing as werewolves, vampires or ghosts but apparently evil, dickhead Klowns are real.
Tempest Michaels is once again investigating ridiculous cases that are clearly not even slightly paranormal in nature but his daily menu of fun is interrupted by a plague of men dressed in garish outfits with twisted clown make-up as they terrorise the Kent towns and villages with ever escalating and more frequent attacks.
If they were not enough of a nuisance he has foolishly employed a woman he is utterly in love with. Trying to ignore Mr Wriggly’s thoughts about what to do with his new colleague, he goes after his silver medal, a girl he lusted after years ago at school, but while Mr Wriggly might not care tuppence about the difference, is Tempest’s heart really in it?
The Klowns should be a case for the police to solve but their leader appears to have a serious beef with Tempest and they are coming for him and anyone that gets between them. Who are the Klowns? What do they want? And what’s with the ridiculous smiles?
Throw in a demonic possession, a restaurant with ghostly footsteps and some more meddling by his mother, it looks like another entertaining week for Kent’s best Paranormal Investigator.
There might be no such thing as werewolves, vampires or ghosts but apparently evil, dickhead Klowns are real.