When Sassy McGuttles Mutton Chops was only fourteen years old, he knew that he wanted to be a five-star chef. His entire life was dedicated to this dream until he was fifteen years old and thought, “five-star? Why only five stars?” From that point on, he swore to spend every waking moment working toward his goal of becoming a 6-star chef.

Sassy labored over his cooking tirelessly, his meals bold experiments in the realm of taste and edibility, where food creation and religious fanaticism meet uneasily in a dark ally, each wondering if the other has a knife and a crack habit that needs fixing… fear of rape on at least one of their minds, if not both.

His family, graceful mother Cally, gruff father Mitch, and whimsically retarded sister Abojaya, all indulged Sassy in his ridiculous, pretty much impossible dream.

Macaroni and powdered cheese slathered in whip cream on a lightly toasted wheat bun, garnished with a pickle stem... Sassy didn’t make stuff like that, but his retarded sister wished he would. She also ate marbles. She also wasn’t technically retarded, more just plain dumb. Not medically so, so she had to go to school with the regular kids, which was kind of unfair for not only her, as she couldn’t understand even the simplest class, but also the other students, who found themselves bored as the teachers had to go over each lesson again and again for Abojaya… slowly… using small words.

Sassy couldn’t concern himself with such matters, however… He needed to work toward not only becoming a top five-star chef, but then breaking that manmade boundary and becoming a heretofore nonexistent six-star chef!

Day and night, night and day, night and night, day and day, dight and nay, for months and months… At sixteen he told his parents to go fuck themselves when they got him a car because what he really needed were East Indian Herma Spices and Oriental Spatula Openers and an oven. What would he do with a car? Taking the car back and using the money to buy his cooking supplies, Sassy cooked and cooked, but what he didn’t do was learn how to drive, which would’ve enabled him to pick up chicks and maybe get lucky in the back seat of the car he totally didn’t want.

His father, Mitch, theorized that Sassy was a fucking idiot. “Maybe Abojaya isn’t the retarded one, after all,” he said to his wife, to which she replied, “No, she’s retarded. He just might be retarded, too. Retardeder, maybe.” Mitch nodded while stroking his chin. He also thought that maybe the names his wife had come up with for their kids were terrible and embarrassing and… retarded … ? That was when he realized he might have married a retard.

Meanwhile, Sassy continued to age as time passed, doing nothing but cooking. He never ate what he cooked aside from a taste to make sure it was “just right.” As such, he stayed thin while his family, who were the only people he really knew or talked to, got pretty freaking fat.

On Sassy’s twenty-first birthday, as he graduated East Palmdale Cooking University, his father died of heart disease. It could’ve been all the various fatty and fried dishes that Sassy made for him, but at least he died due to eating stuff he loved to eat as opposed to getting shot in the face or getting AIDS in the face.

Sassy missed his father and vowed to name his third restaurant after him. His first would be called McGuttles Fun Time Eats, his second Craptown.

The reasons for these shitty names were twofold: 1. Sassy, though maybe not technically retarded, was an idiot. 2. See reason 1.

In the end, Sassy never became a six-star chef, mostly due to the fact that there was no such thing, but also due to the fact that he was actually a mentally ill 97-year-old woman, deranged and living out the fake life of Sassy McGuttles Mutton Chops. In truth, her name was Mildred Pussywillow, and she’d been institutionalized in 2003 after succumbing to age disease, or, as it is known in certain circles, getting old.

Mildred was old as fuck, and only at such an advanced age did her name actually, finally, fit her. What kid is named Mildred? It seems like “Mildred” should exclusively be an old lady’s name, but that’s not the way aging works. People start younger and get older; therefore, it stands to reason that there are young people named Mildred out there. There’d have to be, because otherwise there’d be no old people named Mildred, and it’s scientific fact that there are old people named Mildred, which is why it sounds like an old person’s name.

As Doctor C-Ray Picklewillow pondered this conundrum, he made a startling discovery: earth was being invaded by old people… to be more gender specific, old WOMEN. Not creatures old in years but BORN OLD. All the Mildred’s of the world? The Gertrude’s and the Wilma’s and the Bea's? Eleanor’s and Irene’s? Never were they young. They were old women, but from where did they come? The answer was probably outer space or maybe some Hell dimension, but Doctor C-Ray didn’t have time to ponder this, as “Doctor” was merely his first name… he wasn’t, in point of fact, a medical or scientific doctor… he was a janitor, and he was prone to wild, stupid theories about weirdness and bullshit as he mopped the floors at Sassle P. Mildew’s School For Gifted Kitty Cats.

And so begins our story… or does it … ?