What a coup for the frail Gradymag to discover one morning that her hen was laying eggs made of fine gold! The young and proud-looking farmer was quick to trade the eggs for highly precious goods! She didn’t slaughter the animal as her idiot father would have done to rummage through its insides, but rather took it under her wing, ran away to Clint City and set herself up as the queen of the ball.
As the crème-de-la-crème of the jet-set, the Uppers rule the night. They’ve got it all, and money, champagne and titles are certainly not in short supply. They generally dislike everyone but they particularly despise “the poor who just aren’t the teeniest bit funky”. The Uppers hope that the government will finally take steps to banish ugly people once and for all.