Thomas Jones is an unlikely hero. As average as a man can be, thirty-five year old Thomas has lived a life of utter struggling boredom. Shifting endlessly between jobs managing the efforts of cashiers, dishwashers, and roller-skating waitresses, he is but another floating soul in the void of retail Americana. Thomas is a remarkably unremarkable man who lives with his mother in the small, beachside locale of Wildwood NJ. Constantly in flux, it is ghostly in winter and then set ablaze by the encroaching masses of boozy, bong-smoking, board-walk marching high school seniors from Long Island. Thomas is terror-stricken by their annual migration. One morning., Thomas discovers a strange classified ad in the local paper searching for a Salty Bastard to work in New York City for a mysterious man called Moxy doing as yet undetermined work. Not far away, on the outermost, opulent reaches of NYC’s extended phallus - Long Island - resides David Drahtman. He is a small-dicked, shitty-eyed rodent of a man whose entire life revolves around the work of avoiding his wife and children while accumulating as much money possible. Over the course of a single week, David and Thomas will come to do battle over the body of a dead Chihuahua named Dolce (leaving behind his bereaved brother gabbana.) In the background of this conflict, a host of mysterious characters and subplots mingle. Mexican immigrants burning the image of the Virgin Mary into grilled cheese to sell on E-Bay, glow in the dark rosary beads, a pink Hummer, a thousand black rats, and an elderly scientist who has built a machine that will make someone a trillionaire. Behind it all, the man named Moxy works towards and end that no one seems to know. All Thomas can be sure of is that his task is to eat the rich alive.