His name is James B. W. Bevis, and his tastes lean toward stuffed animals, zither music, professional football, Charles Dickens, moose heads, carnivals, dogs, children, and young ladies.

Mr. Bevis is accident prone, a little vague, a little discombooberated [sic], with a life that possesses all the security of a floating crap game.

Bevis loses his job, gets tickets on his car (which inadvertently hooks bumpers with another vehicle and, once pulled away, flips over), and gets evicted from his apartment – all in one day.

He accepts, and the first thing he notices is that his personal transportation is now an Austin-Healey sportscar instead of his previous jalopy, a soot-spewing 1924 Rickenbacker.

However, perhaps moved by the warmth people have for Bevis, and the man's genuine kindness, the angel arranges for him to get his old jalopy back.