AN: K, so...first Outsiders fic. Second crossover song fic. It's the Cell Block Tango, but the Outsiders boys (and one Soc!) are telling their testomonies. Why were these 'innocent' victims murdered? Why did our beloved greasers (and one Soc) do it? Well...find out. I don't own the CBT or The Outsiders.
Pop. Six. Squish. Uh-uh. Cicero. Lipschitz.
He had it comin', he had it comin', he only had himself to blame…if you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it, I bet that You would have done the same…
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Sodapop Curtis. I don't resent my name. In fact, I like it. I really do. It makes me…well, me.
But those Socs, man, they have no mercy. They don't jump me as much as the other boys-I can't take 'em if they do, anyway - but they just don't jump me as much. I would think they would. I mean, their broads are always flirtin' with me, anyway.
But boy, they jump all over my name.
They don't make jokes about it too much, but geeze, the way the pronounce it. Can't say why, but it's like a dagger to the chest.
Sodapop. Sodapop. Ya gunna wash that grease out, Sodapop? Pop. Pop. Pop.
So this one day, my girl, Sandy, throws a party. For a some reason totally beyond me, she let a few Socs in. I told her not to, but she did.
But, like a greaser should, I stuck to my own business and payed them no mind. I wasn't lookin' for trouble that night.
So this one Soc, Ernie Smith, asks me to toss him a Coke. Like I said, I wasn't lookin' for no trouble. So I toss him his Coke.
"Thanks, Sodapop." He said. I cringed, but I continued to keep to myself.
He came up behind me, real close, and popped of the bottle cap right next to my ear.
Pop.
He took his friend's unopened soda and did the same.
Pop.
I spun around and grabbed him by the collar.
"You pop a soda one. More. Time…" I growled at him.
And he did.
So I took the shotgun off the wall and fired two warning shots. Into his head.
He had it comin', he had it comin', he had it comin' all along.
I didn't do it, but if I'd done it,
How could you tell me that I was wrong?