by Eric Nolan Steve Johnson Spackle Our family was going through a rough patch. A car crashed into the side of our house and the grill was right in the living room where the coffee table used to be. There was a commotion with the driver, a ruggedly handsome young man who reeked of booze. He made my little brother, Tony, and I tell him what we learned in school. It was awkward, Tony having to explain that he had been suspended for two weeks due to setting off a stink bomb in t