Bada being baddaboo.

The little portable potty.

That is exactly what Diane is forgetting.

She goes into her backyard to grab her son's portable potty.

I mean, he sits there, he does his business there.

And that's when she sees her neighbors pulling their trash cans out onto the street to be picked up.

She's thinking, how is it already trash day already? I mean,

this doesn't even make sense. Diane's a single mom. She's quite young. So all of this, this is a lot.

She's trying to stay on track. She's got a little calendar. But she feels like it was just trash day

like yesterday. How is it trash day already? Again, nevertheless, she grabs her trash cans, wheels it out,

and just as she reaches the street, bam, she gets hit on the back of her head with a metal pipe.

Not once, not twice, but nine times. She gets whacked with this metal pipe. She's looking up and

she's begging these two random attackers to stop

whatever they're doing. She sees a man. She doesn't recognize that's hitting her with this pipe.

And then she sees this young girl next time, giggling. And she's screaming, please, I have a son.

I have a son. She sees the girl hand the attacker a bottle. They crack it onto her face and it

starts burning instantly. This is not a normal burning sensation. It feels like her skin has massive,

it's becoming Swiss cheese. There's holes burning into her. It's acid. She keeps screaming,

please let me live. I have a son. They pull her up to the fence. They start kicking her acid. She keeps screaming, please let me live. I have a son.

They pull her up to the fence.

They start kicking her stomach.

She manages to wrestle the metal pipe away.

...