DARREN WANDERS DOWN TO THE KITCHEN ON SATURDAY MORNING, LOOKING FORWARD TO A FREE FEW HOURS TO TINKER ON HIS '56 CHEVY NOMAD.

What's all the ruckus out in the garage?

I don't hear anything.

Sure. Listen!

LOUD CLANKS AND SCRAPING METAL SOUNDS EMANATE FROM THE AREA OF THE GARAGE.

(sheepishly)

I don't hear anything.

I know you heard that!

SAM REALIZES SHE CANNOT DENY THE OBVIOUS ANY LONGER.

Listen, darling. Abdul got here late last night. His rug was messed up.

I didn't know Abdul had a piece!

No, his flying carpet, you dope! Okay, Darren. I'll level with you. You remember your station wagon that was out in the -

Station wagon!?! Sam, you know that classic Nomad is worth a fortune. Five grand championships! Five!

Was worth a fortune. Was.

(stunned)

Huh?

That's right. You're car is HISTORY! And if you make a stink I'll tell Larry about the time you skimmed from the office petty cash fund.

You wouldn't -

SUDDENLY, SAM WIGGLES HER NOSE AND WAVES HER ARMS AND TURNS DARREN INTO A MUTE.

There! How do you like them apples?! What's wrong, cat got your tongue? Speak boy, speak!

(laughing heartily)

DARREN STARES FOR A SECOND OR TWO, THEN, WITH A CONTINUED DEAD-PAN EXPRESSION, MAKES SEVERAL OBSCENE GESTURES.