Edward

Edward was actually born Eduardo Fulgencio Gomez. He was adopted as a baby from South America. For most of his life, Edward imagined he was the illegitimate son of Pablo "Bam Bam" Gomez, the legendary Paraguayan charango player, tragically killed in a bus crash the year of Edward's birth. However, Edward has just returned from Paraguay where he went to find out more about his biological parents. After exhaustive red tape and a plethora of bribes, it turns out that his parents were actually an ultra-conservative Catholic Archbishop and the daughter of a Nazi fugitive, both of whom were into some really kinky stuff. His homecoming dinner tonight with his two adoptive gay Jewish dads should be really interesting.

Gwen

The only thing extraordinary about Gwen is how incredibly ordinary she is. She works as a middle manager at a large firm, so she doesn't actually "do" work, or manage anyone: she sits in a cubicle and acts a Soviet-style checkpoint between people who do work, and people who get paid more than her. Sometimes, to assert her authority, she will insist on the use of an Oxford comma. After work, Gwen drives her SUV back to her suburban home where she feeds her children a really neat new prepared meal from the supermarket (Eating chicken tikka-masala helps them be more wordly). Her husband checked out a long time ago, and spends much of his time and money supporting the local sports team. But it's ok: he has a man-cave so that makes him very masculine and desirable. Her two children are 'C' students, but that's the teachers' fault, because "they don't challenge the children enough". Once the kids are in bed, Gwen likes to watch CSI with a nice glass of wine and a couple of Zoloft.

Manolo

Manolo recently broke off his engagement with Jamila, much to her chagrine. Although he still loves her, his one true passion is his art. As a performance artist, Manolo dedicates his entire body and soul to his craft. This coming spring, he hopes to return to his home town of La Coruña and stage a piece on abstinence in the digital age. He plans to ride naked atop a castrated bull whilst playing his gaita, going from church to church delivering wheels of cheese, all the while being followed by a retired prostitute who will be tweeting her emotional experience in haiku form. He has recieved six grants from the European Union for this performance piece.

Gertrude

Gertrude's husband, Herman, died in 2004. He owned a fair-sized tire dealership in Kalamazoo, Michigan. She wasn't too broken up about it, though, because the two-timing son-of-a-bitch spent most of the 80's cheating on her with his secretary: Troy. Model train conventions, my ass!
As soon as he was in the ground, Gertrude picked up stakes and bought a condo in a retirement community near Fort Myers, Florida. Nowadays, when she's in a good mood, she toddles over to Applebee's for the early bird special. She's more interested in handsome divorcees than in the 2 for 1 apps, though (she counts her points closely). Most of the time, however, she's bitter, and deals with her anger by whipping pretty much everyone's ass in Canasta, from Naples to Manatee County.

Tabatha

Tabatha runs a blog about endangered breeds of heirloom chickens. A strong, silent type, she dreams of one day retiring in New England. Probably Vermont. They have good chickens there.

Jamila

Jamila's family is originally Lebanese, but she grew up in the Ivory Coast where her dad ran a few businesses. When war broke out, her family packed up and moved to Senegal, but Jamila decided to go to Bordeaux, France for university, where she took genetics and biochemistry. During her summers she worked on a vineyard (her family is Maronite, so wine is totally cool) and became interested in the biodynamic production of grapes. Since graduating, she has been working on breeding cows that have larger horns for burying manure. In her spare time Jamila is planning her wedding to an up and coming Galician performance artist named Manolo.

Biff

Biff went off the grid in 1996 in anticipation of Y2K. After living with the Amish for two years, he built himself a compound in the Saskatchewan hinterland and lived off the land, awaiting civilization's imminent collapse. He attracted a number of followers, and he established himself as "The Divine Disciple of the Righteous Path". On January 2nd, 2000, Biff found himself alone in the world. He thought he might cash in some secret investments, but the lawyers of three of his former followers discovered these, and they have been secured by the court to pay support for Biff's seven children from his time as cult leader. He is now back on the grid, lives in Winnipeg, and sells fro-yo at the mall.