Betty was an ordinary girl, except when she would buckle under the pressure of her Tourette's Syndrome and yell obscenities like "Claflouti!" at strangers. Though her occasional coprolalia embarrassed her, her father, the town cobbler, would rather crumble kitty litter than pay for medical treatment.
One crisp autumn morning, Betty greeted her father in their kitchen. He gave a cold grunt and returned to the shoe in front of him. She tried to talk about her school day ahead and her plans for later on that evening. "Enough of your flummery, Betty," her father replied. "I need you to stay in the kitchen all day and make me a delicious pandowdy, and then maybe you can go out." Betty was so angry, she took out a gun, shot her father in the chest, and watched him slump to the floor.