Scene: BIG Y'EYEMAH (a.k.a., The BIG YO'MYE'MAH), Loseturd Q. McNebbish, and eight feral cats and a mangy dog in a ramshackle trailer at the edge of Pleasant Vista and Aroma Trailer Homes on the east side of Trumpkin Village, itself on the south side of New GOPerusalem City.
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: Say, BIG Y'EYEMAH, could you put on the percolator? I need some coffee before I take the three buses to my third job.
BIG Y'EYEMAH [eating from a vat of corned cheese and sauerkraut]: Oh, bother. Mom says percolators are the work of the devil, especially Chinese made ones. And ours is made in China.
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: Well, then, BIG Y'EYEMAH, is it OK if I have some instant coffee?
BIG Y'EYEMAH: Gee, I dunno. Dad says that coffee is what Democrats and Communists used to drink. [Slurps from her 64-oz Diet Coke and lets out a fart and belch at same time.]
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: Well, then, I guess I'll just have to make do without. I've made do without since we got married.
BIG Y'EYEMAH: WAAAHH! YOU DON'T LOVE ME! [BIG Y'EYEMAH breaks wind noisily.]
[Sound of motorcycle pulling up. Backfires. Suddenly, door flies open. In comes daughter Little Annabelle Mae, a.k.a., "The Wild Child," and some grease ball, tattooed 21-year old in tattered jeans, a wife-beater, and crinkled leather jacket.]
Little Annabelle Mae: Listen up, you two, this is my new boyfriend, Smackdog. Smackdog, these two losers are allegedly my parents.
BIG Y'EYEMAH: Welcome to our home! Jesus is Lord in this house and any special friend of Little Annabelle Mae is a special friend of Loseturd and me!
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: Wait a minute! Is this relationship forthright? This doesn't seem to follow the example that Christ set --!
Little Annabelle Mae: Oh, just shut up and give me 50 Trump bucks. We're going out tonight to a biker bar in Trumped Up Heights.
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: NO, ANNABELLE MAE! You still haven't done the dishes. You promised you would do the dishes. [Points to a sink overflowing with dirty dishes half concealed by fetid water; gnats and flies buzzing about. Faucet dripping.]
Little Annabelle Mae: WHAT?? I was SHITTIN' YOU when I said I would do the dishes. I'm not touching that FILTHY WATER!
Loseturd Q McNebbish: It's easy, Annabelle Mae -- just take the brillo pad and start scrubbing the pots and pans. You want to have scouring action. Scouring action. SCOURING --
Little Annabelle Mae: I know how to do dishes, you fucking idiot! You can't be this dumb -- and I know you're not really my father!
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: BIG Y'EYEMAH! DID YOU HEAR HOW SHE TALKS TO ME?!?
Smackdog: Hahahaha ... This place is nuts! Anyone mind if I light up a joint??
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: NO --!!
[Sound of two and then three feral cats fighting in another room.]
Little Annabelle Mae: Ignore him. Go ahead and light it up, but just don't bogart that joint! Gimme some!
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: BIG Y'EYEMAH, NOBODY OBEYS ME!! YOU CAN'T SMOKE IN HERE -- !!"
Little Annabelle Mae: Hey, deal with it. Ma Cowbell here always told me that it was an Immaculate Conception when she got preggers anyway. Speaking of which, as soon as I start ovulating, I'm gettin' pregnant just so you two can pay for the abortion!
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: AAAHHH!
BIG Y'EYEMAH: Coo. Coo. Coo. Everybody just calm down. Coo - coo - coo. Loseturd, just give Little Annabelle Mae the 50 and we'll sort it all out tomorrow before church. It's what Jesus would do.
Loseturd Q. McNebbish: BUT, BIG Y'EYEMAH, REMEMBER WE HAVE A BAD GAS LEAK -- AND NOT JUST THE ONE FROM YOUR ASS -- !!!
[KA-BOOM! Trailer blows up, debris flying everywhere.]
BIG Y'EYEMAH [knocked over sideways in her wheelchair]: Oh, dear, it looks like Loseturd's dead. Coo. Coo. Coo.
Little Annabelle Mae [emerging with Smackdog from under a pile of sofa splinters]: It's about time. OK, Smackdog, let's blow this joint. And leave here, too! Hahahah!