We're back with more stupidity! Sorry it took us a whole year to update, but we have some good chapter ideas, so expect some more hilarious adventures with the gang. Ponyboy may or may not have lost a few IQ points since last summer… ENJOY!

POV Darry

"Dare-Bear! Is that a new man-bag?" Pony squealed, running to my side to inspect the bag.

"It's a saaaatchel!" I chastised.

Tears suddenly sprung to Ponyboy's eyes. "W-What happened to your old one?"

"I…" I was trying to think of a good way to break it to him, "I-I-I-I-I replaaaaced it."

"Why would you do such a horrible thing?" Ponyboy bawled. Ponyboy tends to become rather attached to my satchels. I told Pony to pop a few aspirins and take a nap because he was starting to hyperventilate. But he wouldn't obey my commands. He wanted to know the details of my new bag.

As Ponyboy screamed, "TELL ME! I DESERVE TO KNOW!" Soda and Steve walked in the front door, covered head to toe in grease. Steve was also dripping sweat from his eyes. Disgusting.

Snorting repulsively, Steve questioned, "What does he deserve to know?"

I ignored the question and grimaced. "Steve, whaaaat are you doooing here?"

"I have a throat infection…"

"But why are you heeere?"

"My dad kicked me out 'cause he's hacked off at my," he sighed in resignation, "snot."

"Ohhh, wonderfuuuuul…" I added, with much sarcasm to my tone.

At this time, Dally ambled out of the kitchen, with a barbeque chicken wing in each hand and one hanging out of his mouth.

"What's goin' on in here?" he mumbled around a mouth full of chicken.

"Darry. Won't. Tell. Me. What. Happened. To. His. BAG," Pony gasped through breaths.

"Alright, alriiiiight!" I gave in reluctantly, "Everybody peeeee and get your snaaaacks befooore I begiiiin!"

After about twenty minutes, everybody had peed and gotten their food. So, I had them all sit down in a circle, and I began melodramatically:

"It aaall staaarted yeeesterday-"

At this exact moment, Two-Bit and Johnny came perusing in our back door.

"WHAAAAT?" I screeched, unable to control my overflowing cauldron of emotions.

"Um…hold on. What's goin' on here? Was I gonna miss story time?" He rushed forward and plopped down in the circle, dragging Johnny behind him.

"I shall begiiiin aneeeew. It aaalll staaarted yeeesterday…"

THE MALL, YESTERDAY AFTERNOON

While browsing the shelves at Vera Bradley, I searched for the perfect new satchel. Ponyboy had teethed on the old one, and I needed to find a replacement as soon as possible. Oh, do I ever love Vera Bradley.

"Sir, can I help you find something? Looking for a present for your wife, daughter, sister, mother, grandmother...?" a salesman approached me and asked. He was about six foot four, a few inches taller than me. But they were wasted inches, as he had mantis-like posture. He was ugly and sweaty and pale as all get out. I deserve every one of my inches.

"I'd liiike to see your meeen's colleeection," I stated, gesturing to all of the pink bags surrounding me. I glanced up at his name tag, which read, "My name is Bruno. How may I be of assistance?"

He began ringing his sweaty hands, in a villainous fashion. "Sir, we don't have a men's collection…"

"W-W-W-WHAAAAT? Are you being seeexiist?" Unable to comprehend this blasphemy, I grasped two handfuls of my shirt, in a practiced gesture, and ripped it from my fit thorax.

The women in the store swooned at my angelic appearance, and I knew at that moment that they could help me accomplish my errand. "THIIIIS IS AN OUUUTRAGE! VERA BRAAADLEY IS SEEXIIST, IN FAAAVOR OF WOOOMEEEN! Isn't that riiight, laaadies?"

They all smiled and nodded vigorously. "WEEE MUST PUT AN EEEND TO THIS NOOONSEEENSE!" I called, raising a fist in the air.

Bruno, in a miraculous show of strength, shoved me out the door. Swarms of women began beating him with their purses. He rushed inside and locked the door.

One woman suggested a marvelous idea. "We should boycott this place!"

The rest of us agreed casually and we began making picket signs out of pizza boxes discarded by the food court. As soon as we completed the signs, we all stood in an angry mass outside of the Vera Bradley store, screaming catchy slogans such as, "MEN DESERVE PURSES SATCHELS, TOO!" and "DOWN WITH BRUNO, UP WITH DARREL!" and "VERA BRADLEY'S A SEXIST PIG!"

I was quite pleased at the mob I had acquired. My shirtlessness was undoubtedly attracting more and more women every moment. In the midst of this ruckus, a middle-aged woman came up to me. "This is something that has been a longtime coming. Thank you for getting it started."

"I just waaanted a neeew baaag. You seeee, my baby brooother, Pooonyboooy, teethed on my ooold one. It was a Raaalph Lauuuren, last year's faaall colleeection," I added, with an air of disgust in my tone.

To my surprise, the lady emptied her bag and offered it to me. "Here. It's the mocha pattern bag from last year's Vera Bradley fall collection. Much higher quality, you know. It's the most masculine one there is. My husband bought it for me, but he doesn't know what I like."

I sheepishly accepted the bag, dumping the contents of my mildly teethed Ralph Lauren into the Vera Bradley. Handing it over to her, I said, "Aaactually, I think he has quiiite good taaaste."

Noticing the small teeth marks on the reinforced corners of the bag, she asked, "How old is your baby brother?"

"169 months."

"Oh…" she said, mildly shocked.

"He turned fourteeeen last mooonth. He doesn't liiike it when I buy neeew baaags. This is why I can't haaave niiice thiiings." I added despairingly.

I then left the rest of the boycott in her capable hands and went home to make dinner for the boys.

PRESENT TIME

"Oh…" Ponyboy said, eyes bugging out of his head. "You gave away my lovely bag to that broad?"

I was shocked to hear such language coming from Ponyboy's innocent mouth. "Where eeever did you heeear such a wooord?" I demanded peevishly.

"Dally."

"What? I would never!" Dally defended.

"Dally?" we all said in unison.

"Okay!"

I noticed Two-Bit was absent from the circle, flipping through channels in search of Mickey Mouse. He paused at a national news station.

"Darry…" Two-Bit called hesitantly as a news reporter began speaking of the newest story.

"Yesterday afternoon, a Tulsa resident sparked up a riot that has spread across the entire country. He called into question the motives behind Vera Bradley not having a men's line of bags. Here is a clip of security camera footage from the store where it all began."

Suddenly, a bird's eye view of me shredding my T-shirt flashed across the screen, followed by shots of groups of women rioting at Vera Bradley stores across the country.

"Oh glory…"