Behind the richly scabrous and scatological patter of Sonny, the Joan Rivers of Manhattan's multi-ethnic Humboldt Junior High, lies a virginal and vulnerable psyche. Sonny, offspring of anxiety-ridden, baffled, but doggedly dutiful parents, wants to maker big--and the Matterhorn at Humboldt in the 1960s is membership in the Teen Angels, a girls' gang even the teachers are scared of. ""They fought, fucked (all she ever did was fart!). . . . Cross a Teen Angel and say sayonara to your life."" But miraculously, an invite from the gang is slipped under the door of the stall of the girls' room where Sonny (""Queen Pee"") is meditating on the initials of sexy Ruben Brazio. The initiation requirement: a condom filled with male donations. Unable to make the necessary collections, Sonny Betty-Crockers a substitute, and some picaresque anecdotes on sexual exploits pull her through the stretch. So now Sonny's an Angel, so she can join in light heists or heavy making-out parties, and even sexy Ruben comes Sonny's way. But when the chinos are down, Sonny can't live up to her racy rep. Enter loyal Mom--and some battles with the Angels--leaving Sonny with the feeling that ""some thought that was grown-up, and spooky too, had taken a leak"" on her brain. A compendium of the greatest pubescent loo/blue ever told, zestfully masking a tale about the bluebirds back home in your own block.