If there's one thing that will set off middle-aged white people in Iowa, it's rhubarb. Rhubarb might as well be currency in Middle America, because the reaction to any accusations of rhubarb theft incite Iowans like the Rhubarb Lady to spit fire at all who cross her path. Sprinkled in between "you Pinnochio fucking nose, go mind your own business," and "Where's your name, bitch," we've got "Iranian pigs" who steal lawn mowers, "Don't call me sweetheart hunnie-bun what are you a fuckin' lezzie?" and "It's alley property, bitch." Let's hope that rhubarb cobbler she made later was worth it.