Feeling mad as a hatter, Skip bought a brand spanking new car. To his friends, it was a bolt out of the blue.

Checking it out, Clyde said, “What’s the four-one-one, Skip?”

“Yes,” Penelope said. “What, d’yer win the booby prize? Give us the straight skinny.”

“It’s my new jalopy,” Skip said, at one fell swoop gaining jaundiced looks. “I bought it, cash on the nail. I could only afford it by the skin of my teeth.”

Milly said, “You’re such a crack pot. Did you have to cook the books?”

“To coin a phrase, I think it’s a blot on the landscape,” Parnell said. “It’s the mutts’ nuts.”

Nodding, Tucker said, “Right on. Did you forget to use your loaf, Skip?”

“What’s with the third degree?” Skip wondered as Hester said, “I don’t want to be a wet blanket, but gag me with a spoon.”

“Fer sure, you’re barking mad, Skip,” Ethel said as Horatio said, “You’re such an airhead, Skipper. You bought a pig in the poke.”

Beaming, Skip replied, “Well, I think it’s the cat’s pajamas. It’s really groovy.”

Tucker rose. “That’s all well and good, but I need to catch some zzzs. I’m gonna skate.” Looking at Skip, he said, “Drop a dime when you’ve come back to earth, space cadet.”

“Word,” Ethel agreed as Clyde said, “Peace out,” and Milly said, “Mic drop.”

Watching his friends troop away, Skip said, “Well, I didn’t mean to upset the apple cart.” Leaning back in front of his ride, he took a selfie. “I’ll share it on the Cloud, and Facebook it, the whole shebang. Then, when people Google me, they’ll see my wheels.”

But first, he texted it to himself, and then went to veg out, pleased as punch. It was a new day, and the sky was the limit.