Well, as stated by my profile, this is one of the new stories that has managed to worm it's way out of my mind onto paper (or Openoffice, rather). You can expect the rating to go up quite a bit as the story progresses, but other than the material planned out ahead, I have no idea as to any pairings or even what the point of this story is. The title is take from a Dire Straits song, and has a big part in the later developments. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy my mildly disturbed brainchild.

Disclaimer- I own nothing you recognize and don't intend to make claims for it no matter how much I want it.

The particularly violent jerk the car gave signaled to Ziggy that the ride was over. Finally over, thank you, and she couldn't help but think that the heat the car generated, no thanks to the broken air conditioner, had melted her candy stash. If it did, screw helping those two unpack, she had to replace it right away. She stiffly unfolded herself from being wedged between the seats and opened the one working door with relief. Air, sweet, sweet air. She inhaled deeply, peering up through her fringe at the new house, and threw a lazy grin over at Zoot, who had a pained expression and was hunched over. "Um, you okay?" she asked, smile faltering. He shook his head quickly and hobbled over to her.

"No," he half-whined, attempting to stretch only to have his back give off several protesting cracks. "Why's your brother's car so small? I think I should have rode in the van."

"Cheer up, kid," Zaffo proclaimed, thumping Zoot hard on the back and sending him crashing to the ground, where he grabbed at Ziggy's feet in a plead to be saved. "My car's not that bad, is it?"

"The least you could do is fix the AC," the girl replied, giving him a sideways glance as she pinned her below eye bangs out of the way with a clip that resembled an ice cream cone. "Gee, I thought I was gonna die of heatstroke." She fanned herself absently as Zoot slowly gained the ability to stand upright.

"Yeah, well, whatever," Zaffo returned with a shrug, adjusting his ever-present sunglasses. "No one asked you to ride in it."

"Wrong," the younger male broke in, standing on his toes so he was on the other's level. "You said it was too dangerous to ride in the van."

"Yeah, you could have been crushed by the couch. Look at Ziggy – she's tiny." The mentioned person glared up at him, halfway through unwrapping a lollipop.

"Am not," she murmured, more to herself than correcting him, before crumpling the wrapper and stuffing it in her pocket and tucking the lollipop in her cheek.

"Whatever you say, Zig, now why don't you run off and do whatever it is children do these days," Zaffo replied with an easy air, waving his hand in a 'shoo' motion. Ziggy stared at him for a few moments before reaching into the backseat of the mentally labeled evil vehicle and pulling out a blue electric guitar, throwing it over her shoulder. "What did you think I was going to do to it?" her brother asked, pulling an insulted face and throwing his arms skyward.

"You?" She scoffed mildly. "It's you. The sheer fact that you are you made me take it with me." Then she slowly made her way down the drive. "Call me when you're done, 'kay, Zoot?"

"Sure!"

What do I do? Greet the neighbors? Explore town? Ziggy wondered, absently switching her lollipop from one cheek to the other. ...Lollipop? That was it, candy. She'd find candy. Lots of it. Motivated by the one thing she loved more than her guitar, the existence of sugar, she set off at a full sprint toward the main street, turning sharply and following her instinct. If she was wrong...this town couldn't be all that big...

At full-pelt it took her five minutes to reach the strip, where she then spent a few more minutes recovering from her sprint and staring at the multitude of candy, most notably the giant jawbreakers. She'd never seen such a thing. It was glorious...unbelievable. But she only had enough money for one. A crying shame, really. Putting herself past her sorrow, she entered the shop, taking a moment to observe all the merchandise and to resist the urge to start shoving things in her pockets. Then she stationed herself in front of the bin of giant jawbreakers, trying to decided which flavor she wanted.

"Out of the way, new kid!" There was a sudden shove at her shoulder, a blaring twang as her guitar collided with something, and a brief jawbreaker avalanche.

"Oh, um, excuse me." Ziggy gave a momentary glare at the speaker before crossing her arms.

"Who touched the goods?" she demanded, observing the three newcomers who had stolen her spot in front of the bin.

"I assure you the damage to your guitar was purely acci-"

"Can it," she interrupted with a wave of her hand, pulling the instrument off her back and pointing it at them. "Who touched it?"

"No one touched it-"

"You, then. Short-bowling-shirt-boy-"

"You're no taller than me!" he protested instantly.

"You pushed me. Which means...I blame you." She gave an accomplished nod and turned back to picking a candy.

"Yeah, and what are you going to do about?" he continued, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to face him.

Ziggy sighed. "Fine. I was going to let it pass, but..." She shrugged, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and dragged him outside. She licked the tip of her finger and held it up as if checking for wind, produced her guitar, and glanced skyward.

"No, no, no, it's fine, you don't do anything!"

"But...you insist." With that, she brought her guitar back and swung the body into his stomach, sending him tumbling back a few feet. "There. All's well." She turned on her heel and marched back into the shop to continue staring at the jawbreakers.

"You've got spunk, kid, I like that."The bowling shirt boy had returned. "What's your name?"

"...Ziggy."

He seemed momentarily taken aback. "Ziggy, huh? I'm Eddy. That's Double-D, and that's Ed."

The tall boy in the striped shirt nodded in agreement. "And I'm Ed."

Both Ziggy and Eddy ignored the repetition. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have any spare change, would you? Something in the seventy-five cents area?"

"I only have enough for one, and I'm not giving it to you. Why don't you get your own money?"

"That's the problem, see? We're poor."

Ziggy scoffed. "You're not poor." She paused. "Wanna know how to become rich quick? Be famous. You get your money for nothing and your chicks for free."

Eddy simply gave her an incredulous look. "How do you expect us to do that?"

"I don't. Looks like you're SOL, boys." She shrugged and finally selected her jawbreaker. "Good luck." Ziggy departed after handing her quarter off to the cashier and began the trek home, planning to save the candy for home and secretly hoping the sun wouldn't ruin it.

"...Aren't you going to eat that?"

"More importantly, how long are you going to follow me, and when are you going to stop interviewing me?" Ziggy replied nonchalantly.

"We're not following you, we're going home!" Oh, man, these weirdos lived by her? "And what makes you think we're interviewing you?"

"It has something to do with all the..." A low buzz from her front pocket. "Excuse me. Hold this for me, would you? Don't eat it." She answered her cell after shoving the massive candy in their direction. "It's Ziggy."

"It's Zoot, man. Where are you?"

"I'm on my way home. Wait 'till you see what I bought."

"What?"

A sudden shout made her jump and drop the phone, which clattered onto the sidewalk in sickening slow motion. "ED!" She turned sharply to see the aforementioned person with an unmistakable bulge in his cheek – her jawbreaker.

"You owe me another jawbreaker" - She glanced down at the ruined piece of technology on the ground - "And a new phone." Then she gave each of them a thump on the head with her guitar. "Got it?"