A/N: Why not?

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Bit One

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Hey, baby, gimme three shots a tequila. That's right. Keep 'em comin'. I'm gonna need it.

Why? Forget it, I ain't talkin'. You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Hey, where you goin'?

Alright, here's the story. I was walkin' up Jamieson Street, you know the one, it's got a big hill with the beauty parlour at the top of it and the Jamieson fountain at the bottom. You seen the fountain? It's a big thing, got a pool of water you could swim in and squirts water ten feet high, I swear. Oh, you have seen it. Yeah, alright, maybe five feet, then.

Well, I was heading to Lucky's, this big department store, cause I was outta cigarettes, and if I was gonna take Kathy out again, I was gonna need that nicotine. She don't allow chewin' tobacco. Good rule of thumb for datin' anyway, cause it ain't so funny to the girl when you gotta stop her from kissin' you so you can spit. So, Kathy tells me, anyway.

Just as I was walkin' by, the tuffest car you can imagine pulls up to the curb. It was red and shiny. I think a Mustang. Steve's the car guy. Anyway, out of it comes a superjock – wearin' pleated pants and yellow stripey socks. Soc.

I didn't know him – he looked like a private school type to me, or maybe I just couldn't tell him apart from the other guys at school. But, us being strangers didn't stop him from giving me a dirty look.

"Greaser," he sneered.

"Pretty good, and you?" I said.

He started to say something else, but just then I remembered I hadn't polished my switchblade yet that day. He walked to the store pretty quick. I held the door for him, cause I'm a gentleman, and he was obviously a pretty little girl.

If you ever been in Lucky's you'll know why I like it so much. It's packed so full of crap, you can't hardly turn around without something accidentally fallin' into your pocket. Luckily. Get it? Anyway, I picked up a pack of Kools and bought 'em and left.

Course I'm lyin'! Whaddaya take me for?

I was trying to slip a pack of smokes into my jacket, which ain't no biggie, it's like shopliftin' 101. So long as you don't got a nosey assmonkey looking over your shoulder.

"Thief! He's stealing! He's got a package of cigarettes!"

Soc-jock was yelling like a twelve-year-old girl, his nose-pickin' finger pointed right at me.

"Me? I ain't stealin' nothin'," I said, innocently. But, I guess the owner didn't hear me.

He ran right to the door of the store and started yelling louder than the Soc.

"Officer, officer! I've got a thief!"

What a weenie, eh? Just my luck, a cop's passin' by. Big cop, big stomach, big moustache. I betcha he was makin' up for a smaller somethin' else. Naw, I mean brains! Sheesh.

He waddled into the store and looked me over. Second time that day someone I didn't know looked at me like they'd seen me before – in a toilet.

"I oughtta take you downtown," he says, hitchin' up his belt.

"I ain't stealin'," I said, politely. "I wasn't outta the store. It ain't stealin' if I ain't gone yet."

The cop points at my hands. "You've got two packs of Kools in your hands, don't you?"

"Is holding stuff a felony or a misdemeanour, sir?"

The fuzz got all red and swelly then, so I did what any sensible person would do. I beat it the hell outta there.

Here's the thing about runnin' from the cops. You get those bicycle cops, you gonna have to run fast. You want those lazy ones ride around in a car all day – them you can out walk.

Lucky for me, I got a fatty. I just aimed myself uphill. By the time I'd got to the beauty parlour at the top, I'd shook him off.

I may have hidden under one of them hairdryers.

Anyway, Sylvia, this chick Dally wishes he was goin' with, she works there and she told the cop there wasn't no one but them girls in the shop, got rid of him like that. Scary broad. Even scarier with scissors in her fist.

She knew me already cause she pals around with my girl. So, she had no trouble tellin' me what's what.

"You owe me, Two-Bit Mathews, and don't you think I won't collect!"

Dally strutted in before she could tell me what I owed her though. I knew just what he was there for, too. Obvious as fuckin' anything, cause no self-respecting hood gets his hair cut at the "Curl and Fluff".

He leaned over the edge of an empty chair and gave Sylvia the eye.

"Hey, baby," he said, blowin' smoke as usual. No cigarette in sight even – I'm pretty sure he just produces it himself. I think he must have given up breathing air all together.

Anyway.

"Hey, baby." He grinned. "How much for a wash and blow job?"

"Get lost hood," she said, automatically.

"Well now, that's not very nice," Dally said, and started to move towards her.

I figured I'd save her from him, since I owed her and all.

"Okay, Dally," I said, picking up some scissors. "You want a straight cut or a permanent?"

Dally gave me a dirty look, but so did Sylvia. Crazy me, I thought she wanted to be saved.

"Quit clownin' around," she snapped and swiped back the scissors. "You owe me remember? Not the other way around. I need you to pick up some more shampoo from Lucky's." She gave Dally a look. "I'll do you myself."

Gross, huh?

Anyway, Dally didn't look like he much wanted a haircut. I figured I'd save him instead, us bein' friends and all, and Sylvia being a bitch. Not good enough for him. I figured I'd distract Sylvia so he could make a getaway. Hands down the easiest way to distract someone: start touchin' all their shit.

"Hey, Sylvia, what's this? What's this do? Hey, what's in this bottle?"

"Don't!" she screeched, and grabbed at it.

I'd just been trying to pull the top off, but she managed to knock it up in the air. Time slowed, I swear to God, and the bottle turned once or twice. Then, the top snapped off and popped Dally in the forehead. He didn't notice so much, cause the bottle had exploded all over him, and he was covered, head to toe, in green stuff.

"Ah, I see. It's fairy dust."

"It's green eye shadow," Sylvia said, annoyed. "And it's ruined."

Dally was pissed, so I won't repeat what he said. It's uncouth.

"Who'd want to put all that green gunk on your eyes?"

"Girls do," Sylvia snarled, swiping at Dally. "It's for makin' you feel like a fairy princess, not for throwin' at hoods, Two-Bit Mathews."

"Dally ain't a fairy princess? I don't know what to believe in anymore."

I was all tired out from runnin' when I finally managed to shake him off. Dally may be fast on horses, but you turn your head to look at a pretty somethin' while you're doin' the runnin' and chances are you're gonna end up running into a tree. Jes' sayin'.

I still needed that soap, cause I'm a man of my word, so I walked back up the hill to the store. I wasn't too keen on waltzin' right back into Lucky's and having the owner screech at me again. But, there wasn't another store around for miles. I was outside the store tryin' to figure out what to do, when I noticed Soc-jock was still inside. I walked by his car real casual to see if I could borrow it. Sitting in the backseat was this big canvas bag with the school logo and a long zipper on it. I thought there might be some shampoo in it, so I opened it. Nothin' but tennis balls – maybe a hundred of 'em. I was gonna just zip up and leave, but, craziest thing, the zipper just wouldn't go up. Some jerk stuck a piece of gum on it.

Anyway, I figured I needed a plan B to get the soap. I know there's a storeroom up top of Lucky's where he keeps the stock, so I thought, if I could climb up to a window on the second floor, I could sneak in and out with the shampoo with no one the wiser. Simple plan, right?

So, I walked around to the back of the building. It was a hot day, and the windows were all open a crack. Too easy.

There was a drainpipe comin' down the side, but I wasn't about to push my luck by climbin' it both ways. I ain't been small enough for that since the ninth grade. The first time.

There was this big old clanker of a dumpster sitting in back. I gave it a good shove and it rolled pretty easily over to the window. Musta been newly oiled, it rolled so easy. Standing on top of it, I was just about half a foot underneath the windowsill. One good jump and I caught hold of it, but when I pushed off the dumpster it started to roll, and it didn't stop until the street. Looked like I'd have ta warm up the ol' drainpipe shimmyin' muscles after all.

Anyway, I climbed up into the storeroom first. It was real dusty, and crowded with stuff, but I found what I was lookin' for pretty quick. There was this big box with a buncha words on it – one of 'em "SOAP". Well, what's shampoo but fancy soap? I opened it up and pulled out a box and hightailed it outta there. I was climbing down the drainpipe when Soc-jock came outta the store. He pulled the bag outta his car and started walking up the street without even checking it. Dumb shit.

"Hey, dumbass," I yelled. "You better do up your zipper or you're gonna lose your balls."

Then I ran past him to the beauty parlour.

I ain't so near-sighted usually, but I was havin' a good laugh at the Soc-jock and didn't notice till I got in the shop…

"Alright, boy, you are under arrest."

To be continued…