“Hi, Josh! It's me, Davy. Hey, can I bum a ride to school in the Buckwheat Special this morning?” 

“Sure! I'll pick you up after I get Karen. Did the Batmobile quit running?” 

“Um, sort of,” answered Davy. “Dad got mad at me because I swiped the tow truck battery for it, so he put it in the crusher. Now he's mad at me because he crushed it.” 

“Why is he mad at you because he crushed it?” 

“Because the truck battery was still in it. What a sorehead.” 

Joshua puzzled over this for a moment before deciding he really didn't want to know in the first place. Instead he replied, “OK, Batman. I'll be over there in a bit. See you then!” 

He hung up the phone, then called out, “Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad! I have to leave now, Davy needs a ride!” 

“Are you going to drop him off at the state penitentiary?” asked his father. 

“Sorry, not today, Dad. Maybe you should call and make reservations first!” With that, Joshua grabbed his backpack and headed out the door to his car. 

It took a few tries to get the balky Chevette diesel to clatter to life. Then he drove down the street and over a couple blocks to pick up his girlfriend, Karen. She was already waiting for him out on the front porch. 

As she got into the car, Joshua told her that he had to give Davy a lift. 

“Why?” she asked. “What happened to the Batmobile?” 

“Davy said his dad got mad at him and crushed it.” 

“That's too bad. It was actually kind of a cool car after he sawed the roof off.” 

“Except for the day it rained last week. Kind of funny to see him driving down the road in the rain with the windshield wipers flopping around on the dash, though.” 

They continued to make small talk until they pulled up to the Odell's driveway, where Davy was standing. He walked up behind the car and pulled the hatch open, propping it up with a broomstick while he crawled in and tumbled over the back seat. Then he righted his bulky frame, brushed back his long blonde ponytail, and yanked the broomstick out, bringing the hatch down with a violent slam. 

“Thanks for the ride, Buckwheat! Sucks not having any wheels this morning.” Then he reached over and covered Karen's eyes. “Hi, Cupcake! Guess who?” 

“It better not be who I think it is!” she chided. 

Davy removed his hands. “Bad news...it is.” 

“So why is your dad mad at you?” asked Karen. 

“Oh, he's in one of his moods again,” came the off-handed reply. “He got all bent out of shape because I swiped the tow truck battery for the Batmobile.” 

Joshua put the car in gear and let out the clutch, giving it all the throttle it had. Davy peered over to watch the speedometer needle struggle around the face as the car rattled its way up the street. 

“Geez, Joshua, what's up with the Buckwheat Special? Can't you get this piece of junk to move any faster?” 

“Hey, when you sold this to me, you said it was a great car!” 

“Yeah, well, it WAS when I had it, but now that YOU have it, it's a piece of junk. So there! Hahaha!” Davy stomped one foot down to emphasize his point. Then he cried out, “YIKES!”

Karen looked back. “What? What happened?” 

Davy glanced out the back window to see the floor mat and pieces of floorboard refuse tumbling into the road. Then he looked down to see the gaping hole in the floor. “Oops. I mean, um, nothing.” 

“What did he do?” asked Joshua. 

Karen peered down behind the seat. “Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of Fred Flintstone's car.” Then she looked down again. “Davy, your shoes don't match.” 

Davy looked at his mismatched shoes. “Oh, that's ok... My socks don't match, either.” 

“Why don't your shoes match?” 

“Hoover ate them because I forgot to feed him.” Hoover was the family dog. He ate just about anything. 

Joshua glanced at Davy in his rearview mirror. “What about the car?” 

“It's ok, we can fix it. The ol' cardboard and undercoating trick worked the last time. Besides, what's a little ventilation? Look at all you got for twenty bucks!” 

“I think you got the short end of the stick, Joshua,” said Karen. “Looks like you wasted your twenty bucks on this one.” 

“Not really. I sold him the fuel for twenty bucks, but I threw the car in for free,” explained Davy. “That increased the resale value.”  

Then he looked down at the road passing beneath them. “Hey, neat!” He grabbed a few pennies from the console and dropped them through the hole one by one. Then he began looking around behind the seat for something else while Karen and Joshua were talking. 

“How's the term paper coming along?” asked Joshua. 

“Pretty good,” Karen said. “Now that I have the framework done. I banged out a few pages just to get something together, and now I'm refining it. Kind of a crude technique, but it works for me.” 

“Hey, I found some sparklers,” said Davy, holding up a box. 

“Nothing wrong with that,” Joshua said to Karen. “It takes me longer because I tend to be more methodical, but it saves me a lot of editing, too.”  

“I wish these were firecrackers,” said Davy to himself. 

“Exams are coming up, too. I dread the history one, that class is SO boring,” Karen said with a sigh. “Why couldn't I have gotten into Mr. Owen's class? He's more entertaining than Mrs. Kelsey.” 

“There has to be something else I can drop down there,” came Davy's voice. He rummaged around behind the back seat for more foreign objects. 

“She's a real snoozer. No personality at all,” said Joshua. 

“Oh boy! This ought to be good!” exclaimed Davy above the racket he was making, but Joshua and Karen paid no attention. 

“I had her last year,” continued Joshua. “She really sucked the life out of that class.” 

“She's a real prude, too. I need a screwdriver. Oh wait, never mind,” chimed Davy. 

“I can't believe that—Davy, what are you doing?” exclaimed Karen. 

“Painting my own meridian lines,” came the response. Davy had found a can of yellow spray paint and was holding it through the hole in the floor, spraying it on the passing road as they went along. “Hey, Buckwheat, weave around on the road!” 

Joshua looked in his rearview mirror at the yellow line they were leaving behind. Suddenly there was a thunking noise under the car. 

“What was that?” 

“Rats, I dropped it,” said Davy. He looked out the back window to see the can bouncing around in the road, spewing yellow paint everywhere. “It's a good thing nobody was behind us. I hope that stuff dries quick. Nuts, the stupid nozzle leaked. I got paint on my fingers! I can't go to school like this!” 

“Well, wipe it off quick before it dries!” said Joshua. 

Davy was quiet for a moment. “There, I got most of it off.” 

Karen looked back. “Davy, don't wipe your fingers on the seat!” she scolded. 

“I didn't have any rags.” 

“Yeah, but you ruined the seat.” 

“Oh, it doesn't matter,” replied Joshua. “The rest of the car is already ruined.” 

“We can put another seat in it,” countered Davy. “Dad has several of these things out in the yard.” 

Joshua slowed down to a stop at a traffic light. “Anyways,” he started, picking up the conversation that had gone astray. “You were starting to say something about Mrs.—” 

“Don't move just yet!” interrupted Davy. 

“NOW what are you doing?” 

Davy was reaching down through the hole in the floorboard. “Supergluing a quarter to the street. This will REALLY screw with someone!” 

“Make it quick!” added Karen. “The light just turned green!” 

“OK, I'm all set now,” said Davy. “Hey, Buckwheat, drive slow, see if you can catch the next red light.” 

“Do I want to know why?” asked Joshua somewhat hesitantly. 

“I don't want to know why, either,” sighed Karen. 

“I found more stuff to glue to the road,” replied Davy, holding up a paint stick. 

Joshua began to slow down. “Looks like today is your lucky day, Davy. We caught the next red light.” 

Davy watched the ground in anticipation, waiting to plop the paint stick to the road. “Annnnnnd...ha! Got it! Look, see?” Davy beamed, mockingly proud of his accomplishment. 

Karen leaned back to peer through the floorboard, then shook her head. “I don't know about you, Davy.” 

“There must be something else I can stick down there,” he replied as he rummaged around behind the back seat again. 

“Hey, Davy, how's your paper coming along?” asked Joshua. 

Davy paused from his rummaging. “Oh, I haven't started yet. I'm still undecided on a topic.” 

“But it's due the day after tomorrow,” Joshua admonished. 

“I know. I'm procrastinating as fast as I can,” replied Davy, unconcerned. 

“I'm still trying to remember what we were talking about...” said Karen, her voice drifting off. 

Joshua paused while he made the turn into the school parking lot. “Wasn't it about Mrs. Kelsey or something?” 

Karen lit up. “Yeah! I was about to say that I couldn't believe that—" 

Suddenly Davy leaned forward and hollered out her window. “Omar, you junky!!” Then he leaned back in his seat, laughing. “Boy, I'm really going to screw with him today.” 

“Why, what did Omar do to you?” Karen shot back, a little annoyed at being interrupted. 

“Hmm? Oh, nothing yet. But I'm going to get him first.” As they came to a stop, Davy looked down at the ground. “You know what this thing needs?” 

Karen gave him a hard stare. “How about an ejector seat?” 

“I was thinking a secret trap door, but an ejector seat would be pretty cool, too.” Then he clambered over the back seat and pushed the hatch open, propping it up with the broomstick before making a clumsy exit and letting the hatch slam down.  

As it did, the back window shattered into a million pieces. Joshua and Karen stared blankly at Davy, who looked up at the sky. “Hope it doesn't rain.”  

Then he surveyed the damage. “No big deal, Buckwheat. We can fix it easy enough... Dad has a few more in the junkyard. We'll just swap the dealership plates on another one. Besides, now I can finish my term paper!” 

“What does this have to do with your term paper?” asked Karen. 

“Well, I needed a topic, but the last twenty minutes have given me plenty of research material,” he explained. “I'm going to title it ‘Fringe Benefits of a Hole in the Floor.’ It's going to be a real humdinger of a paper, too!”