A/N: These are getting progressively shorter, aren't they? I apologise for that. I really do. Anywho, we're almost done with the Rocky Horror Greaser Show! I'm estimating just a couple more chapters... and I'm gonna have to hurry, if I want this finished by Halloween. Thank you for reading, as always.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

WARNING: Haha, um, there's not that much to warn about in this chapter, surprisingly! Just language, and there's no musical number!

"OWWWW!" Soda cried out in agony, getting shoved from the elevator. Steve was assaulting him with a horse whip, for letting Darry loose.

"Say, "Thank you" in French!"

"MERCY!!"

"HOW DID IT HAPPEN?!" Steve demanded.

"I was only away for a minute, Master!"

"Well, see if you can find him on the monitor!"

Steve then proceeded to backhand his supposed "best buddy" with the whip, as Frankie shrieked, "Show us your backhand, Stevie!"

Soda was watching the monitor, almost in shock.

"Master, we have a visitor!"

Dally who had been with them, for some reason, announced, "Hey, Curly! It's Curly Shephard!"

And, sure enough, Curly was standing outside, as they saw on the monitor.

"You know this Earthling?" Soda asked, then corrected himself with, "This person?"

"Well, yeah, we were goin' to see him when this fucking mess happened..."

"I see," Steve replied, anger in his voice. "So, this wasn't just a chance meeting? You came here with purpose!"

"I were tellin' the truth for once, when I said the car broke down," Dallas told him simply.

"Assholes don't lie!"

"I know what you told me! But this Curly Shephard... his name is not unknown to me!"

"Well, I guess not.. I mean, he's the younger brother of the second toughest hood in Tulsa..."

"And now he works for your government, doesn't he, Dally? He's attached to the bureau of investigation for that of which you call UFO's! Isn't that right, Dally?"

"What the hell? I hope not! He's supposed to be in the reformatory for 6 months!"

"The intruder is entering the building, Master," Soda cut in hurriedly.

"What room is he in, now? The bedroom? The bathroom? The TV room?"

"He'll probably be entering the Zen room..." Steve informed the others.

"The Zen room? Crap! I left a joint in there!"

"I thought you gave up pot, idiot!"

"Shall we inquire of him in person?" Our cross-dressing friend asked, switching on a magnet.

The magnet was attracted to the stolen watches in Curly's pockets, and eventually ended up pulling him through the wall of the laboratory.

"GREAT SCOTT!" Dallas paused. "...SHEPHARD! Whatever!"

Frankie tossed some toilet paper, but, obviously, no one really saw it.

"Well," Curly started. "Steve Randle, we meet at last."

"Curly!" Dally randomly exclaimed.

"Dally! What the hell are you doin' here?"

"Don't play games, Curly Shephard!" Steve swore bitterly under his breath before continuing. "You know perfectly well what Dallas Winston is doing here! It was part of your plan, wasn't it? That he and his female should come here and check the layout for you? Well, unfortunately for you, your plans are going to be drastically changed! You must be adaptable, Curly; I know Dallas is."

"You promised you wouldn't tell!"

"Look, idiot, running into Dally here wasn't fucking planned. I just came here to use your toilet. Oh, and to find Two-Bit."

"Two-Bit?!" Steve asked him. "What do you know of Two-Bit?!"

"I know an awful lot. And I should. He's my--"

"Sex life!"

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! I was actually gonna say next-door neighbour..."

"Curly--" Dally tried to start, but was cut off by Sylvia uttering, "ah!" from behind them.

"Mouseketeer role-call!"

"Sylvia!" Curly exclaimed in shock, seeing her with Darry, barely covered.

"Curly!" she replied, equally shocked that he was there.

"Sylvia!" Dally yelled angrily.

"Dally!"

"Darry!" Steve screamed, even more angry than Dallas. Darry just looked at him.

And, to make a long story short, that went on for about three more times, until Steve told Darry, "I made you, and I can break you just as easily!"

Out of the blue, Ponyboy walked through the hole in the wall that Curly had created, holding a gong.

"Dinner is prepared!" He exclaimed, whacking the instrument.

"Aww man, I hate prepared!"

"Excellent," Steve told him. "And, uhm, under the circumstances... formal dress is to be optional!"

xxXxx

"Food has always played an important part in Life's rituals... you know, the breaking of bread, the Last Supper... and now... this. Whatever this is."