New York in 2056:

I must admit it, I married governing body member Samuel Herd in 2030 with the hope that he would not live much longer, to inherit that sweet watchtower money was my aspiration. But now at 115 years old, I am wondering if Samuel (or as I call him, Sammy Cakes) will ever pass on to be with Jesus and the 144,000. Our marriage wasn’t always fruitless though. Let me explain to you the master lover that was my Sammy cakes. Let me do it in poem:

Ties, tape, wax, fire, Clips and Whips Wine, knives, bee hives and nudist beach trips. What will my Sammy Cakes surprise me with next? Military grade chloroform and cigarettes? A trip to Tijuana to smoke the marijuana?

New York was never awfully appealing to a southern girl living in a southern world. But once I met Sammy Cakes that all changed. Hanging with his friends Garret and Stephen could be so much fun. So much fun. So much fun (flashback begins)