Part romantic speedmetal opera, part autobiographical asphyxiation caper, part David Sedaris and Raymond Carver's pajama sleepover, Red Hot Dogs, White Gravy is where toothbrushes, robots, and tiny horses bear witness to divorce, plastic surgery, and a live studio audience in the ways that only Ben Slotky can deliver. These are stories not so much told as de-boned, deep fried, and spun in your favorite hot sauce. Stories not so much read as guzzled from a firehose. Stories not so much true as pretty much all true.