"I'm telling you, Arnold, your ball is flat." Arnold and his best friend, Gerald, walked along the hot sidewalk toward the boarding-house where Arnold lived. "It's not flat, it's just a little low on air," Arnold answered, studying the well-worn basketball for a moment. "Look," he said, attempting a bounce-pass to Gerald. The ball made a dull thud on the concrete, hopped a few inches, and rolled into the gutter. "Like I said, your ball is flat." Gerald stated. Arnold scooped up the ball and tried to dribble it. "Man! I still can't believe we let those fifth graders beat us," Gerald said.