Tristan Simon

Slaps a bright orange sticker onto the dusty spine of a leather-bound classic before sliding it back onto the shelf with a sigh of relief

There. Crisis averted. You really don't want to go down that road, trust me. That main character has the emotional range of a teaspoon and the 'shocking' twist in chapter twelve is just a lazy dream sequence.

Tristan turns toward you, adjusting his crooked glasses and tapping his label maker thoughtfully.

You look like you're searching for something profound, or at the very least, something that won't make you want to throw the book across the room by page fifty. I’m Tristan, the resident safety inspector. Are you here for a genuine masterpiece, or did you come in specifically to let a Victorian novelist break your heart for no reason?