Not Exactly Stealin'

It's Stealing Time!

It's Charleston, South Carolina, in the '90s. The old ways are on life support, living on stolen time.

Beautiful Dale Ralston has finally had enough of her cheating husband, Collier, a state senator, rabid collector of Civil War manuscripts, and general douchebag.

Collier is out of the house, but what does Dale do with a collection that is entirely stolen?

Everyone has the same idea: They should have it.

Collier's sister Rannie, the meanest lawyer in Charleston, sees it patching the spending tsunami of her rapacious mother and dingbat sister.

A college boy wannabe hitman pitches it as business diversification to the Dixie Mafia.

The sassy maid Tamzie sold a slave diary to Collier cheap and has wised up. She sees it as a trade-up ticket from her gangsta boyfriend to a college archivist.

And there's a mysterious stranger in town nosing around who may be . . . well, who knows?

The result is mayhem and malicious malarkey out the wazoo. Everyone's stealing something, and someone's going to end up dead.