The city is at war
Playtime for the young and rich
Ignore me if you see me cos' I just don't give a shit
The city is at war
Bless the young and rich
With designer drugs and designer friends
Dallas Winston stared at the passing broads, chatting loudly and aimlessly, looking like the complete airheads that they were. A few shot him dirty glares, hissing "Greaser!", and most of the more timid ones backed away in fear.
A voice from behind him snarled. "You've had it now, greaser. Stay off our turf."
Dally turned, looking completely bored. He found himself staring down two dark-haired Socs.
"Oh, really?" his eyes glinted wickedly. "You know who you're talking to?"
The shorter Soc crossed his arms over his chest, puffing it out.
"No, I can't say I've seen you before, greaser."
Dally smirked, taking a deliberate step forward.
"I'm Dallas Winston."
The taller one backed away, pulling on the shorter one's arm. He saw the shorter one shake his head at the other Soc, his eyes blazing with determination.
"Beat it, greaser. There are more of us on the way. You wanna wind up in jail, huh?"
Dally smiled coldly. "Oh, my, my. You've got me totally scared now. You should see my record with the fuzz, Soc."
The shorter one started forward, holding his fist up threateningly. The other Soc hovered behind his friend, looking slightly nervous. Dallas straightened up from his slouched posture, his fists ready and his eyes blazing.
Here's how it goes
It's about who you know
If you've got money you get in for free
Get on your knees if you wanna reach the top
The party never stops
Come on, stick around and see how it goes
Get the money and run
Meet me at the parking lot
Bang, bang, shoot 'em up, yeah
The group of Socs entered the pub, laughing crazily like they were already drunk. One of them approached the bartender for a shot, but he shook his head as if to say no. The Soc laughed, then reached into his pocket for a twenty-dollar bill, then handed it to him. Dally gritted his teeth.
Moments later, the four Socs reappeared, arms linked through each other's, stumbling. They trooped across the parking lot to an old car which looked vaguely familiar to Dally. It finally struck him that he'd seen Tim Shepard driving around in it just this Saturday.
The raucous laughter echoed around the lot as one of the Socs flicked out a switchblade and slashed the tyres. Soon, all of the boys had joined in and were denting the car badly.
Dally marched over and caught one of the boys on the arm.
"What do you think you're doing, Soc?" he snarled.
The Soc laughed and lurched drunkenly.
"See for yourself, greaser!" he yelled. "Your friend's pretty car ain't gonna be so pretty no more!"
Dally's eyes hardened; he flicked open his switchblade next to the Soc's head.
"You should leave now."
"Alright, greaser!" the Soc and his friends staggered away into the trees and continued to hoot.
A rustle of leaves behind him made Dally turn and stare into the impenetrable bushes, but the darkness stayed quiet. What he didn't realize was that he was being watched by a certain Curly Shepard.
This little girl was alone in the world
'Till she found a way to get a fix for free
Oh,pretty please
It breaks my heart to see
Another tragedy
She finally got her picture on TV
Sherri Valance steeled herself and walked up quietly to the white-blonde boy who was slouching against a wall.
"Dallas Winston?"
Dally turned around and stared her up and down, a mocking smile appearing on his face.
"You're that feisty broad from the movies, aren't 'cha?" he sneered. "Where's your pretty friend?"
Cherry glared at him, trying to stop the blush from spreading across her cheeks.
"I'm here to help for the rumble. You need a spy for the Socs?"
Dallas' eyes turned cold.
"You think you can fool me that easily, Soc?"
Cherry tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear.
"It's your choice, greaser. Take it or leave it."
Dally considered this, his face unreadable.
"Fine. What's in it for you, though?"
Cherry shook her head.
"Nothing. Everything. Dallas, I do what my heart tells me to. This rumble is pointless. My friends could get hurt or killed. I realize that the greasers aren't always the bad guys. I'm helping my friends, greasers or not. Those that I care about the most…" she trailed off, looking up hopefully at Dally.
Come on
Live it up while you can
We all lose in the end
You won't get another shot
Bang, bang, shoot 'em up, yeah
Dally slammed the breaks on Buck's car, and the tyres screeched to a halt, spinning wildly around, hitting the curb. Without stopping for a breath, he flung open the car door and raced into the rumble.
He smiled in grim amusement as he saw the Soc's eyes widen in shock and fear. Knowing this would be his last chance, he gave it all he had. He plowed through the jostling bodies, sending Socs to the floor, blow after blow. Soon, the remaining ones retreated quickly, hopping back into their Mustangs like all hell was after them. As the last Mustang zoomed away into the night, Dally rushed back into the car, spinning so quick that the car was nearly out of control.
When the rest of the greasers got the panicked phone call half an hour later, he was already rounding the corner to the parking lot. He leapt out of the car, and in one swift motion, pulled the heater out of his pocket and held it aloft, where he knew the police would undoubtedly see it. The bullets hit his body and he crumpled instantaneously, already dead. The last thing he saw was the blood-red sunset, the rays of golden light streaming over the horizon, and he smiled at the thought of finally seeing Johnnycake again.