Ah, for the days when “Teen Triumphs” meant graduating without a record or a baby.

Proof that sexual frustration - abetted by burger-teasing virgins, cheered on by a better-looking “popular” kid - can turn a kid’s hair GRAY.

Unless he’s a 52-year old “friend, and likes hanging around with the teens. He likes their keen spirit; they think he’s the creepiest. But he brings liquor.


Mom! The gang's coming over for a sock-hop in the knotty-pine-paneled basement! Can you make those Benedictish Frankwiches again? You know, the ones that look like creamed tumor-balls? Oh, Mom, you're the absolute MOST.