Khaki Green loves to talk. Her friends call her “Yacky Khaki,” and sometimes when they’re feeling annoyed, “Quacky Khaki.” But really, it’s a compulsion as at 5 AM every morning Khaki Green begins her rants – everything from contesting this year’s champion at the local dog show in her town (where coincidentally her Chihuahua named Fig Face was disqualified for pooping while the handler proudly cavorted her around the arena) to the ethicalness of Stem Cell Research. Khaki Green is regularly thrown out of movie theaters for talking during the film and sometimes even standing up and acting out the parts. Khaki lives with her mother and fifteen parakeets, all of which are green and named Kiwi.

An avid watcher of game shows, Khaki Green has applied to be a contestant on the $1,000,000 Pyramid two hundred and eighty-four times, and still holds out hope she will one day be discovered. She considers herself an adventurer and belongs to a women’s golf club where she regularly hits a hole in one (in her mind.) Khaki Green calls herself a true patriot as she hails from the rough-hewn lineage of the stoic British soldier of the Second Boer War, a combination of dismal grey and rustic brown, though she prefers tea to machine guns and good conversation to the battle cries of dying men. On the rare occasions when she allows herself to meditate on the meaning of life, Khaki Green smokes a cigarette alone on her patio, pondering these big ideas for exactly thirty-one seconds.

Abhorring silence, she soon finds herself culling numbers from her phone book, in search of the next talking fix. Her obsessions include all that is good and green in the world – sour apple gum, mermaids, overgrown forests, celery stalks and monster blood, the olives groves of Sicily and Puglia, and the ocean at certain times of the day, reflecting the gloriously variegated hues of the sea, as though Poseidon himself wore the most luminous sexy, shimmering coat.