Little brudder and I on our Big Wheels.
Our bums could have been permanently glued to the seats of them . . . how could you know otherwise? We were always in them.
Just beyond the back tires were tiny plastic cylindrical pieces that would jet out, creating a ruckus when the wheels would turn. That only lasted about ten minutes. Mum quickly cut them out with a butcher knife.
I complained of the modification at first (thinking what she was doing was physically hurting my Big Wheel friend), then realized the greatness of my new stealth status. I couldn't realistically tolerate the noise anyhow, and Mr. Big Wheel didn’t seem to mind.