On Monday, Steve and Dally go to the Dairy Queen. What's the worst that can happen?

Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders

One Hell of a Week

Chapter 2 Part 1: Monday

So what happened on Monday…oh yeah, I remember now. Monday, we was hung over as shit from the party me, Dal and Two-Bit were at the night before. When I opened one bloodshot eye to face the world, I found I had me a splittin' headache and I was thirstier than a cactus in July.

"Dal, Two-Bit, get up." Me and Dally was asleep on Two-Bits floor. I don't even remember coming back to his house, and I sure don't remember nobody driving us neither.

Dally cussed me something all incoherent and sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand and his crotch with the other. Two-Bit rolled over. "Sorry, sunshine, I'm too tired. I need my beauty-sleep."

"What the hell time is it?" Dally asked groggily.

I looked outside and the fucking haze and sunlight damn near blinded me. "Can't be before one o'clock." I got to my feet, holding my aching head, and Two-Bits fucking house spun. "God, fuck hangovers!"

Two-Bit covered his drunk-ass head with his arms. "Turn off the sound!" he hollered, "If I wanted sound, I woulda stuck my head down a victrola!"

Dally stood up, disentangling himself from the jacket he was sleepin' under, and me and him left. It didn't take us too long to find out that ain't nobody was around. Everyone else had somewhere they fuckin' needed to be. The kids was in school—yeah, even Johnny went in today, Darry was roofin', and Soda had took himself an extra shift at the DX station. Me and Dally was bored shitless, so we decided to take a drive in Buck Merril's thunderbird which Dal hadn't yet returned.

We skidded the thunderbird up to the Dairy Queen down quite a ways on East 19th Street. It was hot and hazy out, and I was already sweatin' like a pig. "Got a cancer stick, asshole?" I asked Dally as we got out, looking for shit to do or something to break.

He handed me one and started walkin' round the back of the building. "Don't follow me, I'mma take a piss. And judgin' by the fact I think I got lucky yesterday, it might take me a while." Nasty. I pulled a face. "Go get us some cokes or something, man. It's hot out."

As I wandered into the store, I wish I'd looked around a little harder to see who the fuck was in there. Because if I had, and remembered people's fucking faces, maybe I woulda seen who fucked up our tires. See, while Dally was takin' a leak on the side of the building—it don't matter that they got a perfectly functioning pisser inside the DQ—someone went and took revenge on Dally via the thunderbird. They didn't slash up the tires or nothing, but they popped off all the lug nuts. Every goddamned one of them. Dally woulda gone slashed their throats if he coulda, but they got away before either of us saw they faces.

When I got outside and saw the thunderbird, I nearly dropped them cokes all over the dusty parking lot, I was so shocked. Dally came round to the front of the building, zippin' up his fly I guess he saw the look on my face because he asked, "What's up your ass, Steve?"

"Someone fucked up our tires!" I answered, running over to the car. Yep, they'd gone and done all four of 'em. That's twenty lug nuts dead and gone. "They popped off them lug nuts!"

"Did ya see who done it?" He demanded, stalkin' round the car like some kind of predator, as if he could sniff out who done it.

"Naw, man, I was getting' the cokes." He snatched the coke I handed him, his face red with rage. He was so mad he was shaking. Dally hated it when anybody messed with him in even the slightest way, and he took it as a personal attack. And then he threw the pop bottle with all his might at the wire fence surroundin' the lot. It shattered into a million pieces.

"Cool it, hood!" shouted a man from the other side of the fence. And damn, was he lucky to be on the other side of the fence, or Dally woulda busted his face.

Dally was fucking livid as his eyes darted round the lot. They landed on some young mother walking out of the DQ with her son.

"Hey you, lady!" he accosted her. She caught one look at Dally's face and knew he was nothin' but trouble. She got herself in front of her little brat, putting herself between him and the threat that was Dally.

"Whaddya want?" She asked. The bitch was obviously scared; her eyes wide and flashing.

"You was in that there Dairy Queen. Did ya see who came out and fucked with my tires?" When she didn't answer right away, he leaned in and shouted, "Did ya! Did ya!" He shook her a bit and turned her body so she could see the worked-over thunderbird.

She screamed and whimpered the moment Dally touched her, and her brat started squalling. Dally just got madder. Damn, he sure hates them little ones. "Quit yer ballin' you little shit! Did you see?" He knocked the woman out of the way and grabbed the kid by the collar. Now the mom was cryin' too and the kid was screamin'.

"Dal, Dal., hey, Dally." I ran over, seeing it was time to intervene in this fucking mess before he did anything really stupid. I grabbed his arms and pulled him offa the kid. Dally shook me off.

Just then, some man stepped out of the DQ and ran over to us. He was one of them gentlemanly guys—the kind Pony's gonna be when he grows up. All soft and simpering and the like. "Lady, are you okay?" He asked, gallantly putting himself between the twos of them and the twos of us. "Get lost, hoods." Bad idea to say that, asshole.

Dally was on him so fast that theys was on the floor before I could blink. A quick roll in the sandy lot and the two was covered in dust, like those powdery cookies Mrs. Curtis used to make. Dally came up on top, sitting on the man's chest, a fist raised like he was gonna punch his lights dim.

"Dally get offa him!" I jumped on his back, rolling him off the guy and the twos of us right into the dirt. I got a mouthful of kicked-up dust, and I guess the other two mother fuckers did too, because the threes of us sat on the ground hacking and spitting while the mother and child cried.

I was the first one up, and I 'm a lucky son'bitch because alls I got was shoulder nicked and my hair mussed up. "Someone jacked our lug nuts," I tried to explain to them. I was spittin' up dirt while holding back a struggling Dally, who was still itching to go at it ever since he got up off his ass. "My friend's just a little worked up. Just let us work this out."

"Why I oughtta call the po-lice!" cried the woman, putting lots of emphasis on the start of the word. She had her arms round her screamin' kid, and the brat was hiding his ugly face in her skirt. I'm still a little surprised that the broad didn't follow through on the threat. Dal had done enough to warrant getting hauled off again.

"What the fuck we gonna do?" Dally hissed, kicking the chain fence once we was alone again. He paced round the car in a nervous circle. "It's not like I can drive it nowhere!"

"I dunno,"

"Well, help me out, mother fucker!"

"Whadda you think I look like, the fuckin' auto body shop?" I shot back. But we're like brothers and I knew I'd hafta help him out.

'C'mon, you know cars the best of anyone I know."

I beamed at the compliment, and I know he's right. After all, I'm the best hubcap thief on this side of the Arkansas River, and I know everything there is to know about cars. Alls I had to do was look at the make and model, and I knew just what type and size of lug nuts he needed.

"Oh, alright then. We'll go to the DX station and see what we can do."

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