William S. Burroughs wrote in Naked Lunch, “And the U.S. drag closes 
 around us like no other drag in the world... Take one of those cocktail 
 lounges at the end of a subdivision street -- every block of houses has its own bar and drugstore and market and liquor store. You walk in and 
 it hits you. But where does it come from?” Angela and Allison are over-educated and under-employed. They don’t have time to ponder their existence and they sure as hell aren’t about to waste their days making minimum wage while women with inferior minds and shoddy grammar make six figures upstairs. But we digress. What Angela and Allison do want is independent wealth, public esteem, and a little citrus in their vodka -- is that so much to ask? So what do you do when you need a payday and a claim to fame while you’re still pretty enough to enjoy it? It’s hard, it’s just hard. Cue a deranged serial killer attacker named Ed. If they can find him, they'll get notoriety and a $100,000 reward. The only problem is no one knows what Ed looks like and everyone they meet is acting eerily... Ed-ish.