Sinnareo Plane was seething again. For what seemed like the millionth time, she asked herself, What kind of monster could do such a thing? What sort of heartless beasts would name their daughter Sinnareo?

It’s not that Sinnareo Plane didn’t know who her parents were, or where to find them. They were right there in the family cemetery plot, the same place they’d been since Sinnareo was just three months old. Yep. Dead. She could ask them all the questions she wanted; they couldn’t answer. (And if they did, it would have scared the shit out of her.) So she never got to know Agatha and Octagonal Plane, nor to ask them why they had saddled her with this ridiculous name.

Mind you, she thought her first name was ridiculous; she didn’t even know her middle name. She wasn’t even sure she had one. Her uncle Parallelogram thought she had one, but he couldn’t remember it. Y’see, Parallelogram had been on a year-long bender when Sinnareo was born. In the midst of all that bending, he was far too focused on his back pain to focus on learning a newborn’s middle name. But he was sympathetic. After all, uncle Parallelogram had issues with his own parents’ ideas of child-naming. I mean, Jesus Christ, how could he not?

…to be continued? Ehhhh, probably not.