While the boys walked to the high school, June and Ward returned from getting ice cream with the Beaver.

"And that's when I saw the perfect chance to hit that goon where it hurts!" Beaver exclaimed proudly.

"Oh Beaver!" June sighed, "I never get tired of hearing about that story!"

"Tell it again!" Ward cried as he put the car in park and turned off the engine.

"Well…okay!" Beaver agreed happily.

Just then Agnes and George Haskell arrived on the Cleaver's doorstep. Ward, June and Beaver exited the car and approached the Haskells.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ward wondered angrily as he licked his ice cream cone furiously.

"We're here for couple's therapy night." Agnes answered.

"Oh dear, Ward I put our house down for couple's night this week." June remembered. Ward let out a long and exasperated sigh,

"Do you see what happens when you let 'them' out of the kitchen son?" Ward said facing the Beaver, who was busy licking his ice cream cone. "You give them an inch, while albeit 'undeserved' an inch nonetheless and they take a mile!" Ward shook his head with dismay.

Meanwhile at the home of Mrs. Margaret Lynch (of Merril Lynch and associates), Margaret sat in a cozy green chair in front of the radio in the den. There was a light clamoring down some steps, and then her granddaughter 'Trudy' appeared in the den, wearing a beautiful pink dress.

"Trudy dear you look wonderful!" Margret exclaimed happily.

"Thanks grandma, I'm going to the dance with a real swell guy – he's a real gent!" Trudy explained excitedly.

"Oh really? Margaret questioned, "And does this 'swell guy' have a name?"

"It's 'Eddie Haskell'." Trudy replied with a smile.

"Eddie, Eddie Haskell…" Margaret repeated to herself as if lost in thought.

"Is something wrong grandma?" Trudy wondered. Margaret smiled and took her granddaughter's hand and tapped it happily,

"Nothing's the matter dear, you go on to that dance and have yourself a wonderful time." She said enthusiastically.

"I'll be sure to get some really keen pictures to bring home to you grandma!" Trudy happily promised.

"You just worry about having a good time dear." Margaret said with an endearing smile.

Meanwhile at Mayfield Grammar school (grades K-8), Principal Rayburn, Miss Canfield, and Miss Landers sat at a round table discussing current issues with the student body and the curriculum for next year.

"Men are the scum of the earth!" Mrs. Rayburn snarled, firmly gripping a black riding crop. "They should all be dragged out of their 'comfy beds', taken down to the wash, drowned, and then shot!" She exclaimed, "But not necessarily in that order." She added.

"Mrs. Rayburn…" Miss Landers started.

"Please child, call me 'Cornelia'." Rayburn said emphatically.

"Eh-Cornelia, I thought we were here to discuss the end of the term grade-point averages?" Miss Landers questioned. "Now I know several of my students will not make it to high school next year and as a teacher it concerns me…" she trailed off as Rayburn interrupted her.

"That's a really good story Miss Landers." Rayburn said, cutting Miss Landers off. "Canfield!" Raburn barked.

"Yes -Cornelia?" Miss Canfield jumped from her seat.

"What do you have for me?" Rayburn asked, pointing the riding crop directly at Miss Canfield.

"Uh-well…class averages for the end of the tear are up by…" Canfield trailed off when she noticed Miss Landers gesturing to her to 'drop it'. "I uh mean, boys are dumb and girls are smart." Canfield rectified.

"Excellent reconnaissance work Canfield!" Rayburn applauded. "Landers!" Rayburn shouted, pointing the riding crop at Miss Landers now, "You could learn a thing or two from Miss 'Cornfield' there!"

"It's 'Canfield'." Miss Canfield corrected.

"What?" Rayburn asked confused.

"You said 'Cornfield', but it is actually 'Canfield'." Miss Canfield hesitated nervously.

"Oh, okay-uh keep up the good detective work!" Rayburn applauded once more. "Flanders!" Rayburn shouted again.

"It's 'Landers' ma'am." Miss Landers politely corrected.

"There is a 'box social' of sorts taking place at the high school tonight." Rayburn stated.

"I don't think that's really what it is Mrs. Rayburn, ma'am." Miss Landers said.

"Your suggestion is noted Miss Landers…" Rayburn said sternly.

"Thank you ma'am." Replied Miss Landers.

"But regardless of the name, there are going to be sweet, innocent, vulnerable little girls dancing at the mercy of-of men!" Rayburn screamed as she angrily slammed the crop down onto the table.

"I'm sure there will be chaperones in attendance, I'm sure of it!" Miss Canfield assured.

"That's not the point Canfield, rather the point is-the 'MALE' chaperone-'pigs' will be there, drooling, oozing, gurgling and groping those little girls!" Rayburn screamed passionately.

"Well-Mrs. Rayburn ma'am, what should 'we' do about it?" Miss Landers wondered.

"I'm glad you asked me that Landers!" Rayburn said sternly, cocking her head at Landers like an owl, "We're going to crash that 'party' and prevent any and all forms of male indecency from occurring!"

"Oh Mrs. Rayburn…" Miss Landers said.

"Cornelia!" Rayburn snapped.

"C-Cornelia, I don't think anything will get out of hand like that." Miss Landers insisted.

"Of course you don't Landers, because you're a 'hippie'!" Rayburn accused with a scowl, "You're both hippies! That's the problem with teachers today, acting as though they can get through to the students by playing up to the men!" Rayburn preached angrily.

"Mrs. Rayburn, honestly!" Miss Landers protested.

"SILENCE HIPPIE!" Rayburn screeched, "I doth think that thou doth protest too much." Rayburn said, gripping the riding firmly with both hands.

"But Mrs. Rayburn, really-we have no intention of playing favorites." Miss Canfield argued.

"Of course not, that's what they all say-but after taking 'my' re-education course, you will finally understand!" Rayburn said menacingly, as she locked the door, flipped the light switch off, and flipped on a projector movie slide-show.

"Oh dear!" Exclaimed Miss Landers as she sank deeper into her seat.

Meanwhile Eddie and Wally were on their way to the dance when Eddie thought of something.

"Hey Wally," Eddie exclaimed. "Why don't we rent a car, the 'chicks' will really dig us if we show up with wheels!" He proclaimed like a weasel.

"Don't be goofy Eddie, where in 'Sam Hill' are we going to get a car?" Wally questioned. Eddie thought for a moment before speaking,

"The Hotel Mayfield has a rental center; we can get one there-just for the night!" Eddie explained.

"Are you crazy Eddie?" Wally inquired, "You must have really lost it to cook up such a wacko scheme like this!" Wally declared. "And just 'how' are we supposed to pay for this car?" Wally indulged Eddie.

"Don't get so glib Cleaver, I've got it covered!" Eddie hollered, reaching into his pants pocket and retrieving a plastic credit card.

"Hey is that what I think it is?" Wally wondered.

"Hey daddy-o it can be whatever you want it to be; ice cream, toys, guns, clothes, furs, girls, cars, the works!" Eddie clamored.

"Alright where'd you score that card from, and don't be a wiseguy about it either!" Wally demanded.

"All right, all right don't blow your top!" Eddied said backing away, "I got it from my old man!" Eddie explained.

"Eddie you doofus!" Wally groaned, "Now we have to go back and return it!" Wally shouted as he tried snatching the plastic card away from Eddie.

"Whoa easy buddy, this ain't yours!" Eddie yelled like an angry chicken-hawk.

"Fine Eddie, keep it!" Wally snapped, "But keep 'me' out of it!" Wally yelled back angrily.

"Sheesh you'd think I'd stolen from your mother or something!" Eddie observed.