Life has been pretty rough for Isobel lately. She is having difficulty with her memory, which seems to be getting worse the further she travels across Northern Florida in her limited edition SUV with the tartan interior. She can’t remember if she liked the car in the first place, nor the faces of her children. But, then she’s not sure if she has kids or if that was just a dream. She can’t find pictures of them on her phone. Her phone was how her therapist suggested that she try to separate her hallucinations from reality. She could head back to Jacksonville to try to remember, but she’s just found Vincent on the side of the road. Vincent is a six foot seven Arab-American transvestite and Isobel’s new best friend. She’s almost ninety-nine percent certain he’s real. It really doesn’t matter because he hasn’t even mentioned the body of her dead husband in the spacious cargo hold of the limited edition SUV with the tartan interior. Grappling with a tragedy she doesn’t want to remember, and a reality she is bored with experiencing, her voyage of self discovery has less to do who she is and more with rejecting her own suburban hell to transform into the confident psychopath she always dreamt of becoming.