“Don’t forget about John Mellencamp,” says Mother as she scans the morning’s classified ads for used martini equipment. “Even with sending the steaks to England and cutting back on power by running that extension chord over to the neighbor’s house, we’re still going to be short on cash.”

“Not to worry,” answers Father. “My promotion to VP at the office makes me in charge of personnel. I’ll just lay off a few more webmasters, divert their salaries into my own payroll account, and no one will be the wiser.”

Suddenly the twins, Missy and Junior, rush in from the bathroom. “Can we see Janet Jackson when she comes to town?” they ask breathlessly. “Can we? Can we?”

“I don’t know,” answers Mother as she clips a gin coupon from the newspaper. “Have you finished your chores?”

“I did! I did!” shouts Missy. “I placed illegal copies of songs by U2, Fastball and The Allman Brothers Band on our school’s Web site.”

“And I called the RIAA and reported it,” adds Junior. “They said we’ll have our reward by next week!”

Father smiles at how fast his children are growing up. “Gotta run,” he says as he grabs his coat and sticks the schedules for Newsboys and The Waiting into his pocket. “So many pink slips, so little time.”

Later that day, Missy catches up with Junior at the high school cafeteria. “Good news,” says Missy. “My English Lit teacher gave me $500. That gives us enough to see Liquid Soul and 6Gig, and still have enough left over for The Shaolin Monks.”

“Bad news,” replies Junior. “I already mailed that video tape of the two of you to the principle. We really got to work at this blackmail thing.”

Back at home, Mother consoles the newlywed from next door. “Sex is highly overrated,” she tells the young bride while she coaxes the last few drops from a nearly empty gin bottle into her glass. “You’ll soon realize there’s nothing better in this life than tickets for a good show like Tony Bennett or Disturbed. It’s much more exciting than sex, and not nearly as messy. Unless it’s Gallagher, of course.”

With the day almost over, the family gathers around the dinner table. “If I fire three more programmers tomorrow,” says Father. “Not only will that cover tickets and expenses for Neil Sedaka, The Radiators and Shenandoah, but it will also give us enough to go to Toronto in June to see Eric Clapton.”

“My Social Studies teacher says that people shouldn’t take advantage of other people’s misfortunes,” says Missy as she helps herself to a slice of Mother’s meat loaf. “She says it’s wrong to prey on others.”

“Nonsense,” says Mother as she waves her glass of gin at the liquor cabinet where the vermouth is kept, completing her latest recipe for a perfectly dry martini. “God put gullible people and concert tickets for bands like Quiet Riot and Vixen on this Earth for a reason.”

“Amen to that,” says Father.

“Gee, Father,” replies Junior, “I didn’t realize you and Mother were so religious.”

“Of course we are,” answers Father. “After all, the family that preys together, stays together.”