Looking like a white-headed weasel, hunched over the steering wheel of a 1950 red Mercury, socially incompetent Fast Eddie impatiently waits. Escaping from horror-filled corridors of frustration and despair, Breed lifts a hand in farewell and slides in. Eager for what is about to happen, his bright-faced friends pile in. Doors bam shut. Tires roll. Sparkling spinner-hubcaps whirl into the magic of a starlit night. To make a dream come true, the strangely assorted set of young men are on their way.