I was laying on my bed watching Batman on the little portable I bought myself that summer when I heard a car drive up. I stretched and pulled the curtains back a little. It was still light outside. It was my momma and Mr. Tucker pulling up beside that little beat-up Corvair of his. No way in hell he'as gonna use that just to take my momma on a honeymoon. I could already tell that about him. Just as well I guess. There's this nut named Ralph Nader that says people are always getting killed in them things, though what he knows about it I couldn't say.