My name is Miles Walker. Remember it. I’m keen on immortality. I’ve got to be. I’m twenty-three years old. I’m the best painter of my generation. And I’ve got four hours to live.

On the eve of the millennium, Miles Walker has problems. His flatmate Thurston, a moody medievalist, thinks it would be a good career move for Miles to die young. Miles’ best friend, the pre-conceptual artist ZakDot, agrees - and the chainsaw-wielding Maddie seems only too happy to help. Then along comes Destiny, the enigmatically beautiful politician who hates art but likes Miles. Now the others really want to kill him. By the time bare buttocks are squeaking over the blackheart sassafras of the prime ministerial dining table, it looks like Miles’ fate is sealed.