Maxwell Cain: Burrito Avenger [review]

By Adam Lane Smith

Remember that 1980s-era Stallone action-film COBRA?

No? Seriously? What heck’s wrong with you?!

Go watch it. Now. I’m serious.

It’s okay, I’ll wait…
Right. Now you’re back. Good. Now we discuss MAXWELL CAIN: BURRITO AVENGER. Y’know how over-stylized, hyper-violent, and pants crappingly insane COBRA was? All the cheesy one-liners. All the tits and bullets. Yeah. Great stuff. Well, if you’re man enough to enjoy that level of blood-drenched, explosion-happy, action movie madness, you just might be able to handle Maxwell Cain.

Set in a futuristic Los Angeles that feels like it came straight out of a late-night cable B-movie, Max is a tough as nail cop who shoots first, shoots often, and bothers with questions only when he feels like it. He’s big, bad, full of rage, and has a very, very short fuse. Sort of a mix of Marion “Cobra” Cobretti, Judge Dredd, Clint Eastwood, and that creepy guy who sits at the back of the local Denny’s looking as if he’s about to snap.

Then Max loses his job. Loses his burrito. And loses his temper. And the only thing more dangerous than Max Cain with a badge, is Max without the badge. Now he’s gone pure Punisher, and taken the law into his own hands. Max is a big man with a big gun, and the criminal underworld is going to pay!

Oh, there’s also the hot blonde in the book who also has some big guns, but I don’t want to get this review pulled from Amazon. So, I’ll leave that to your imagination.

 

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