On a park bench, under the biggest banyan tree, lies a woman in worn, rolled-up jeans and an old t-shirt that says "Nitro High School Wildcats Class of '69." Her cheap Walmart workboots stick straight up in the air and you can see her men's white crew socks with the worn out elastic rolling over the top of the boot. She yawns and stretches, slowly sitting up, vaguely wondering if she has been snoring, or merely drooling as she napped. It's Janie, the southern hillbilly woman.

"Uhmmmmmmm....I smell that barbeque" she says to no one in particular. "Ol' MMario must a sobered up!"

"Oh my, lookee there at that beeyoutiful sailin' ship out there in the harbor. When did it arrive?" She looks around for some one to ask. She sees a mild looking blue-eyed man in a disreputable hat walking down the Midway. She is about to call out "Bro' Joe" when her eyes widen in amazement at the sight behind him.