You're rich, aren't you? You live in that beautiful house on the corner of Maple and Cherry Avenue with your 1.5 brothers and sisters, Mother who wears floral aprons and Father who shouts "Honey, I'm home!" when he returns from the office to the delight of your Labrador. You're a typical suburb kid. Your eyes gave it away. You know why? It's because... well... they look lonely. But I'll fix that. We can lay side by side and watch the fireworks together. In this collection of short stories, we'll take a chainsaw to the white picket fence. We'll visit the carnival with matches in our pockets and become best buds with our teenage idol, Bruce Farrel. But happiness is fleeting. We learn that the hard way. We'll die at the end of it all because these are their glory days, not ours, and we're just in way over our heads.