Octogenarian Ted Mordak lies in a hospital bed and waits to die. He’s in no hurry to breathe his last, but he’d enjoy his final days more, if only he didn’t have to listen to his loved ones speak ill of him during visiting hours. “Not dead yet!” he cries, to no effect. The doctor has spoken: Ted is a vegetable, clinically brain dead, and wholly unaware of the world outside his immobilized shell. A devastating misdiagnosis, given that his daughters now feel free to speak openly about Ted’s many crimes, both figurative and literal. Worse still, they have been urged to consider removing him from life support. With a body that no longer responds to commands, and not even a television to occupy his hours, Ted’s only viable distraction is to look back on his life, the good times and bad. In the midst of this reflection, his best friend has arrived to deliver the deathblow. Can his day get any worse?