Mitzi must now depend upon herself to provide for her needs and Randi's. She sets out in This Great Nation of Ours, as proud Plasticopians call their country, to look for a job.
This looks promising.
"Hi, I'm Mitzi, the Unemployed Single Mother. I'm looking for work."
"Hello, Mitzi, I'm Sharon the Grumpy Coffee Shop Owner. I could use some help, if you don't eat all the donuts and can tolerate standing on your feet for eight hours a day at a dead-end poor-paying job without benefits ...... zsssst, don't even ask about medical insurance."
"I can see why you're grumpy. When do I start?"
"How about tomorrow?"
Here, let me introduce you to some of our ordinary everyday Plasticopian regulars. This is Janice the Flower Shop Proprietor,
and here's Leroy the Pilot and Barstone the Candlestick Maker.
Over there is Kathy Cowlick the News Rudder and Myrtle the Indulgent Grandmother Who Never had to work a Day in Her Life for a Paycheck. "
"Nice to meet you. Well, I must be going. I've got a show in an hour."
"Are you going to talk to Cindersara again?"
"That's very likely. We've had so many complaints that we treated her unfairly, asking her all those hard questions, that we think it's only fair to give her another chance with some easy questions. I'll keep you updated."
Mitzi is so excited to have a job that she splurges the last of her egg money that she took out of the sugar jar before Jack took everything else, including the jar. She buys some paint and some fabric and works magic on some junky garage sale furniture and hand-me-downs from her more prosperous relatives. For two weeks, while she waits for a paycheck, she and Randi live on stale donuts from the coffee shop and food samples from their daily tour of Costso.
Meanwhile she paints....
and sews.
Soon the little townhouse looks like a home.
The inviting living room.
The cozy bedroom.
The functional kitchen, where Mitzi turns her first paycheck into much awaited hamburgers and apple pie.
Every working day Mitzi drops Randi off at her older sister's house.
In the evenings, after Randi is asleep, she reads Harley Quinn romances
or watches chicky flickies and cries herself to sleep in this Great Nation of Ours.
It is a busy afternoon at the coffee shop.
And of course, a steady stream of unfamiliar faces passing through. Another day, just like all the others, when suddenly.... 
"Barrock!"
"Barstone, you changeling, is that you?"
The two men fall into each other's arms.
"I can't believe it's really you!" Barstone exclaims.
"I would have recognized you anywhere. You haven't changed a bit," Barrock replies. "Honey, this is my long-lost big brother."
"I didn't know you had a big brother, much less one that was lost."
"It's been so long, I had forgotten it myself, but as soon as I saw him it all came flooding back. Our paths went different ways, starting the day he fell off the turnip truck...but, here we are again, for a change. I'm so glad we decided to stop at that interchange for coffee. By the way, Barstone, not to change the subject, but let me introduce you to my wife. This is my Shell."
"Next?"
"That's us. Here, Shell, I think I've got some change if you'll get the drinks. I'd like to continue my exchange with Barstone."
The brothers continue to talk. It is evident to even the most casual of observors that, although there is twelve minutes between their ages, they are identical in every other way, with the exception that one is half-white and one is half-black.
Barstone says, "So what have you been up to?"
"Oh, my days are pretty interchangeable. It's talk, talk, talk."
"What do you talk about?"
"Change, mostly."
"Believe me, he isn't kidding. He can't stop saying that word. At night it's 'can't we change the channel' and 'why don't we change the menu' and 'change this, change that': outfits, drapes, hairstyles . I think I'm going crazy."
"But that's why people like me, dear. My message is unchanging."
"Hey! Aren't you that A-rub marks..ah wahtever...Bar-rocky guy? The one that's running for president?"
"Well, yes and no."
"You're slime, you know that, slime! You got the same name as terrorists, so that means you are a terrorist. I got a brother fightin' over there in the Rocky War, and it just ain't right that we could have a president who is a Rocky."
"Don't pay any attention to him, Barrocky. His kind is ignorant and loathesome."
"Right, but he is a Voter ... well, hopefully not, but he could be a Voter. Here, stare at my lapel, son."
"Gosh, you're wearing the secret sign! You're one of us! Man, I ain't never voted like a donkey before, but anybody who wears the pin has got my vote."
"The mind of a Voter is a very complicated thing."
"Don't try to understand it. It will drive you insane."
And so Barrocky and his friends go off together to fight the good battle.
"What did you say your name was?"
"Joe."
"You're not a plumber, are you?"
And things return to normal at the coffee shop.
"I dibs Attorney General."
"That's right, Cathy. Otherwise, how're you gonna catch them when they're doin' it?" 
"Why, all of them. Every single blessed one that the American people in their little communities across this Great Nation of Ours should know about, so they can make a fair decision when they go into that polling place. Under a Main-Cindersara Administration...if we are so privileged as to be elected...this will change." 
"You've been very critical of Barrocky. I would like to give you the opportunity, if you'd like to take it, to expand on your vicious criticism."
"What'd I say? What'd I say?" 
"You'll note the strong nose, the firm set to the jaw, the thoughtful cast of the mouth, the high intelligent brow, the steady gaze. If you see someone with features like this, you should run for your li...excuse me, Kathy, would you mind turning your head to the side?"
