DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!
A/N: This is will be my second Outsiders humor fic. Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames will be used to start bonfires.
Our story begins on an Indian summer day in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Johnny Cade was just waking up. He changed out of the clothes he'd slept in the previous night, pulled on his jeans jacket, and laced up his black Converse Chuck Taylors. He went over to his cracked bedroom mirror to examine the cut he'd gotten on his cheek when he'd been jumped by a Soc a few days before. It still hadn't healed over.
'I'll probably have a scar for the rest of my life,' he thought.
Johnny picked up his comb and started trying to tame his black hair, which remained messy no matter what he did to it. When he was satisfied with his appearance, he started to think about whose house he'd eat breakfast at. Then he noticed something very odd. The odor of pancakes and scrambled eggs was wafting through his closed bedroom door. He shook his head, thinking he must be imagining things; his mom hadn't cooked since time began.
Johnny opened the door and stuck his out into the hallway. When he did, the smell grew stronger. Johnny left his room and started to walk down the hallway. The living room he ended up in was his own, but everything in it was different. The coffee table was devoid of ashes and empty beer bottles. The television set, which Johnny's dad had put his foot through a month ago, was in perfect working order. The couch was battered, but it didn't have a single cigarette burn or exposed spring in it.
"Man, those guys musta hit me a lot harder than I thought," Johnny muttered out loud to himself.
"Johnny, is that you?" a woman's voice called from the kitchen. It was definitely his mother's, but again, something didn't feel right.
"Yeah, it's me, Ma," Johnny replied, cautiously walking into the kitchen.
The sight of his parents almost made him pass out. His dad was clean-shaved, clad in jeans and a flannel shirt, and he didn't smell like alcohol. His mother's hair was perfectly curled, her dress clean and unwrinkled, and she appeared to be sober.
"Johnny, are you all right? You've just gone white as a sheet," said Mrs. Cade in the same concerned tone Mrs. Curtis used to use when Johnny turned up at her house with a split lip or a black eye.
"Ma, why do you look so nice?" asked Johnny. "And why are you cooking?"
"A mother always cooks for her beloved son," said Mrs. Cade sweetly. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."
"Say, champ," interjected Mr. Cade, "how about going to the park later to play a little football with your old man?"
Johnny was too confused and bewildered to reply. He had just noticed his dad had tentacles for fingers and there was a set of antennae poking through his mom's hair. His black eyes got bigger than usual and he bolted from the house, making a beeline for the one place he was always safe when anything happened: the Curtis house.