Karen was enjoying dinner with Joshua and his parents when a loud slam interrupted them. Everyone turned to see Davy explode through the kitchen door, ranting and raving as he grabbed a box of ice cream from the freezer and made himself at home at the dinner table.      

“Geez, what a racket they have going! I didn't even have any say in it. What kind of school are they running, anyways? Someone is going to hear about this!”      

“Why, what happened?” asked Karen.      

Davy began to scoop ice cream with a spoon and cram it in his mouth.

“That stupid guidance counselor I have put me into a class that I never signed up for. I swear that woman is the Anti-Christ or something. She really makes me mad!”      

“Why, what’s the class?” asked Joshua.      

Davy reached across the table and grabbed a biscuit. 

“Psychology,” he said with disgust, before stuffing the biscuit in his mouth.      

“Psychology isn't so bad,” interjected Joshua's mother. “It's actually a very interesting subject.  What's wrong with that?”      

“That rotten Mrs. Quackenbush signed me up without even asking me, and she won't let me drop it, either!” Davy grunted as he shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “She claimed it would be 'good for me,'” he added, holding up his fingers as quotation marks to emphasize the point.      

“That would be an understatement,” said Joshua's father.      

“Oh yeah? What does she know?  Why do I need psychology? I'm fine! There's nothing wrong with me!” Davy exclaimed, reaching across the table and grabbing Karen's glass. He chugged down its contents in one shot. Then he got up from the table, bumping it and rattling everything on it. “Boy, has she got some nerve,” he added as he left the table.   

He stopped and tossed the empty box back in the freezer, calling back, “Oh, by the way, you're out of ice cream again!” before slamming the kitchen door shut behind him, shaking the whole house as he did so.      

Joshua's mother and father looked at each other in puzzlement.  Joshua glanced over at Karen, who was peering into her empty glass.   

“So what do you think?” he asked.      

“Going to be a really interesting semester,” she replied. 

"What happened to this one?” asked Joshua, surveying Davy's latest set of wheels. 

“I don't know, except it's so bad, I can't even tell you what it used to be,” replied Davy, running his fingers along what remained of the rusty, demolished bodywork that was covered in graffiti. 

“It's a really ugly car, too,” added Joshua. “This is the first Batmobile you've had that looks the part.” 

“Yeah,” agreed Davy. “It's a face only a mother could love.” 

 Davy cranked the starter a few times before the wreck rattled to life. 

Joshua observed the outside mirror shaking around on its mount as he commented, “This is definitely one of the roughest cars you've had.” 

“Yeah, but it was the only thing available, so I had to take what I could get,” Davy replied as the transmission gave a sickening crunch. 

“Provided it gets us there,” Joshua pointed out, matter-of-factly. 

Davy just shrugged. “Yeah, but one can always hope,” he added as he pulled up in Karen's driveway. 

They didn't even get out of the car before Karen bounded out the front door. She stopped in her tracks to laugh at the car Davy was driving. Then she yanked open the back door and hopped inside. 

“Geez, Davy, this thing is really screwed up! Where did you find such an ugly car?” she giggled. 

“The Screw-Up Fairy beat it with an ugly stick,” scolded Davy, with his face all contorted in a mocking frown. “Besides, it's not that bad! This car is me! It fits me like a fine leather glove.” 

Karen surveyed the interior. “Your leather glove has springs poking up through the seat.” 

“Yeah, well, poke it back!” 

“Boy, you sure are testy this morning. Aren't you excited about your classes?” 

Davy dropped it in reverse with a loud grinding sound and backed out of the driveway. “No.” 

“Not looking forward to Psychology?” asked Joshua. 

“No,” came the flat reply as Davy ground it into drive. 

Karen bounced on the back seat. “Why not? That sounds like an interesting class!” 

“That's because you're not the one taking it.” 

“What's wrong with Psychology?” asked Karen. 

“I got Roger Fredericks, that's what.” 

“And what's wrong with him?” asked Joshua.  

“He's the inverse of Fred Rogers,” grunted Davy. “And he's old, too... almost as old as my Aunt Vera.  And worst of all, he's the only one who teaches it!” 

“You need to keep an open mind,” countered Karen. “Think of all the great things you'll learn from that class, like how and why people act the way they do.” 

Then Joshua said the wrong thing: “At the very least, Davy, try to have some fun with it.”   

Joshua popped open the glove box to see what was inside. Neither Josh nor Karen noticed the look of evil genius that had crept across Davy's face or realized what they had unintentionally started. 

“So how did everything go today?” asked Joshua as they walked into the parking lot at the end of the day.  

Karen shifted her load of textbooks before answering. “Not too bad. It's always a little overwhelming on the first day of class, but Political Science and World Affairs are really interesting subjects. How was yours?” 

“Pretty good. It worked out so that I have Finance and Economics back-to-back. Each class has information that ties into the other, so there's going to be some interesting overlap.” 

As they approached the car, Karen looked around. “Where's Davy? He's usually the first one out of the gate.” 

“He told me he would be a few minutes,” said Joshua as he opened the back door for Karen. “Something about going to the library.” 

Karen was surprised. “Davy went to the library? That's a first... I didn't think he even knew we had one.” 

“Well, we'll find out soon. Here he comes!” 

Davy walked up to the car with something in his hand. 

Karen rolled down the window and called out, “Did you actually check something out from the library?” 

Davy opened the door and hopped in. “Not quite, Cupcake,” he answered, handing her a notebook. 

Karen took it and leafed through the blank pages. “Well, it's a start. Planning to actually take notes in class?” 

“I thought he was going to use it for drawing flip-book, animated cartoons,” said Joshua. 

“No, I wouldn't use it for that,” replied Davy. “That's what my textbooks are for.” 

Karen tossed the notebook over the seat, where it plopped down next to Davy. “So what are you going to use it for?” she asked. 

“Psychology,” stated Davy rather flatly. 

Joshua raised his eyebrows. “You're actually going to take notes in Psychology? I thought you didn't want anything to do with that class. How did it go today?” 

“It was OK,” said Davy as he started the car and backed it out of the parking space. 

“That's it? Just OK? Tell us more,” prodded Karen. 

“Well,” said Davy, dropping the car into drive with a crunch. “Mr. Fredericks gave us our textbook, our course outline, and what to expect...” 

“Where is your textbook?” asked Joshua. 

“In my locker,” replied Davy. “Anyways, he told us that he wanted us to take notes on things that happen around us and how people react in a given situation. As the class progresses, we will look at our notes and learn how to analyze and understand the things we recorded. Then we will write a report on our findings. After that, he went around the room and asked what kind of first impressions we get when we meet someone for the first time, such as himself.” 

“What kind of answer did you give?” asked Karen, looking up from one of her textbooks. 

“I told him he looked like someone who wears starched underwear.” 

Joshua and Karen gave each other a puzzled look. 

“Well,” said Joshua slowly. “Ask a stupid question...” 

Davy looked at him and beamed.