The Tigers Broke Free.

May 23rd, 2010. By the time I had comfortably reasoned with Karen that the mysterious weirdo she was riding with was actually a very well-known celebrity from a local TV show that she didn't watch, we had left the salon, and seamlessly merged back onto the Freeway.
    "He looks like a Hobo. Is he on that police chase show you watch?" Karen said, finally taking the bait. Then she added, "Can you roll up the window? There's too much wind blowing on my new hairdo!"
    "What?" I asked. I looked into the rear-view mirror and watched Karen's cheeks puff up. Her hair was blowing wildly across the rest of her face. "Don't make faces like that." I quipped. "You look like one of those troll dolls."
    She didn't hear me. Her window was down. The warm, outside air was rushing over her like she was in a NASA wind test tunnel. I had  lowered it to accommodate Darger's unfortunate intolerance for car travel. He can't ride in a moving car without freaking-out if a rear window isn't rolled down. He bangs his head from side to side, and screams an incessant, high-pitched, yelp if he can't hear the air movement. Or something. I don't know. The only problem is that I can't roll his window down because he likes to spit out of it. 
    Karen began to kick the back of my seat in unison with her monosyllabic commands.
     "You-are-ru-in-ing-my-bea-u-ti-ful-new-hair-do!" she pounded. "Will-you-ple-ease-roll-up-the-win-dow!"
    I glowered into the rear-view mirror. Her face was covered with wisps of her yellow-golden hair, and her hair was covered with glitter, but I'm sure she was under there, glaring back at me in retort. I shrugged. "It's broken, honey. I can't. Now, knock it off!" I pleaded.
    She pounded, "Puh-lease! Roll-up-the-win-dow!"
    I was thinking about her haircut. She smelled like a freshly-baked sugar cookie. "Next time, you should get your bangs cut. It would keep the hair out of your eyes." I suggested.
    Again, she pounded, "I-am-go-ing-to-tell-mom-my!"
    "What?" I withdrew.
    Meanwhile, Darger had been doing just as I had instructed. He hadn't said a word throughout the entire "ride and a haircut" episode. His promise to keep quiet, however, had just been broken. For at that moment, Darger broke wind; a machine-gun-rattling reverberance so loud and booming that I actually felt the vibrations through the front car seat. Karen screamed.
Then she pounded into the back of my seat, "ROLL-DOWN-THE-WIN-DOWS! ROLL-DOWN-THE-WIN-DOWS! Eeeeeeww! HE-SMELLS-LIKE-A-HO-BO, TOO!!"
L is for "The one who smelt it - deals it."