Rob Vestal: International Super Stud

When Hack was in especially dire straits he threw a contest where the winner would have his own Hack Werker novel written about him. Hack had a hard time with this because the guy was, in Hack’s words, “the only person I’ve ever met who’s creepier than I am.” He stuck to the bargain and completed this novel, which by all accounts is one of the most disturbing things he’s ever written.

Plotting Pinion’s Peril

Hack based the title character – a mean, semi-illiterate, violently abusive old man who everyone despised – on his own father Vlad, and took obvious delight in constructing scene after scene where the various character try to kill him. The old man finally meets his doom by being beaten to death by a Hack Werker-like pulp fiction writer in circumstances that eerily mirror Vlad’s actual murder (which has never been solved but which many Hack Werker biographer attribute to Hack himself). Whenever he is asked about this book, Hack merely responds with an enigmatic smile and says “the old bastard got what was coming to him.”

Pug Rescuer

When Hack heard that his cover artist Jonny M.’s pug Boris came from a Korean pug rescue, he invented this fanciful story where the rescue was an underground spy organization that sneaked the dogs out of the country because a powerful mob was selling them to a pharmaceutical giant for experimentation.

When that turned out to be exactly what happened, Boris tried to have Hack killed.

Horror Speakeasy

When he heard that horror movie star Graham Skipper was hosting a “horror speakeasy,” Hack got so excited that he sat down and wrote this scary book about what he imagined would take place complete with chills, thrills and a murder mystery that a Hack Werker-like pulp fiction writer solves and is rewarded with an anal sex session with the sexiest female guest. What actually would up happening was that Hack got drunk beforehand, showed up at the wrong address and was brutally beaten by some drug dealers whose score he had walked in on.

Mother’s Day

This story of an suburban housewife and mother who satisfies her obsession with anal sex once a year by hiring a notorious gigolo turned out to be a phenomenal success with Hack’s core readership of sex-starved perverts in Bible Belt states. Regrettably, he was sued by ABC for ripping off The Brady Bunch (a show he had never heard of). Hack had to sell one of his kidneys to pay off his legal fees.

Oh, Fuck It: I’m in a Bad Mood and I Need This Today

Hack was in a funk when he wrote this sci-fi novel about a futuristic Hack Werker-like writer of pulp novels who has to save the universe by providing anal sex to an army of female Amazonian space warriors. The title of the book was supposed to be “Space Raiders of Galaxy XY” but when his publisher John Kane asked him on a conference call what they should call it, this is what Hack responded.

Reefer Addict Ward

Originally titled under the title “Sex Nurse,” Hack claims that this is the true story of when he was institutionalized for reefer addiction in 1958. His story is that he had been in a reefer-induced trance until a kindly nurse brought him out of it with anal sex, although his version is unsubstantiated by evidence and he actually spent most of that year in county jail for indecent exposure.

Reefer Alley

Hack wrote this novel in 1958 after his first experience with reefer resulted in his institutionalization an the death of his girlfriend at the time, who took her first puff and jumped out of a window thinking she could fly. Hack wrote a sequel about his recovery entitled “Sex Nurse,” which came out shortly afterwards.

Harvey

When Hack heard that his idol French Stewart was starring with his wife Vanessa in the play “Harvey” about an invisible rabbit, he assumed that the titular transparent bunny was a murderous giant rodent who manipulated his mind slave Elwood P. Dowd into killing people to give him fresh flesh to feed on. When Hack was informed that it was actually a gentle fantasy, he wrote this novelization of his concept to set things right.