Tim grinned. "Good. Could use some company. And not their kind of company." He spat contemptuously at the dark to the out-run Socs.
Dally shrugged. "Yeah and I could use some action too. Haven't seen a girl in awhile."
"Nah, but that girl has seen plenty of other guys."
Dally swore back at Tim and flung a wild punch in his direction. It might have been true, but he didn't want it all over town that his girl was screwing whoever she wanted to – or that he still wanted her after she did.
The party was raging when they got there, guys yelping, girls laughing, music blaring…
"Alright! Party!" Tim grinned, opening the door without knocking.
The tiny house was crammed full of people, with one thing in common – they were all drunk, or soon going to be. Couples danced with each other next to the tape machine, pressed so close they took up the same amount of space as one large person. The girls were perched on a few dining room chairs, chirping about make-up, clothes, and above all, men. These were not the whispery, giggly, chaste kind of girls. They were the loud, slutty, gonna-have-fun-if-it-kills-me girls, that the guys loved, and the prudish femmes envied. A group of single guys were strewn about the couches, drinks in hand, telling stories that would have made the opposite side holler and slap them (all in good fun of course). Buck was amongst them. He looked up as Tim and Dally entered and grinned.
"Hey there, Shepard. Saw your sister 'round here tonight."
Tim's jaw dropped. "Angela?"
One of the guys whistled. "Whoee, she was lookin' mighty fine in that tiny little dress and heels. Went off with some guy out back. Probably layin' him right now-"
"Shut your trap!" Tim hollered, launching himself at the guy, knocking over Buck's drink.
"Hey!" Buck yelped in protest, scrambling to get out of Tim's way. He caught Dally's eye and winked. "I know who you're lookin' for-"
"Everyone knows who you're looking for," someone added.
Buck grinned crazily. "She's around here somewhere. And she ain't with me," he hollered holding up his hands for peace. "C'mon man, that was a while ago-"
Dally slugged him once then backed off. "Deal with you later," he growled, turning his back on the bunch of guys. He needed to find Sylvia before the whole town knew what she was up to.
He shoved his way through the crowded hallway, eyes searching for his girl. He pulled up short at the kitchen – Sylvia was perched on a stool, drinking beer, laughing gaily with some guy he didn't know.
"Well gosh, I didn't know you had muscles that big," she laughed, pushing on his arm.
The moron grinned hitching up his pants. "That's ain't the half of it baby."
Sylvia made herself laugh again, but couldn't help rolling her eyes. She knew Dally would show up here, he had to. But how much longer would she have to wait for him to get there?
"Beat it," a familiar voice growled from behind her. The moron opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again and backed off, looking pissed.
Sylvia smiled. "Dallas," she said without looking at him.
"Girl, I gotta teach you a lesson," he hissed. "'Bout why it ain't good for little two-faced broads to be running around when they got a boyfriend."
"Oh but Dal," she sighed smoothly hopping from the stool and gliding in his direction. She ran her hands up his flannel shirted chest, "I didn't know you were my 'boyfriend', per se." She cocked her head and attempted to look innocent.
Dally pushed her aside as his chest began to heave in anger. He knew she was pulling one over on him, but he wasn't about to look the fool in front of Mr. Muscles. "I'll deal with you in a minute."
"What's a'matter?" the drunken hillbilly blurted at Dally. "She's my broad and you better let it go little man." The dark haired brut pushed a finger in Dally's chest.
Dally sighed inwardly, hot vigorous blood pumping viciously through his veins. He'd been angry all day, why not finish the night out with the fight he'd been working up to all day? At that moment Dally thought of Johnny, and how willing he'd been to pound someone's head in, then his mind flipped to the drunken Soc who threatened his life in front of Tim, Curly, and Pony, and now to his whore willingly flouncing around with this lunatic…and he let his rage loose. He leapt like a wild cat, teeth bared and arms flailing into the hillbilly's chest.
The nameless guy tumbled back as Dally began pounding on his face, chest, arms, whatever he could and didn't stop. Moments later the two were rolling around on the ground throwing a punch here and there until Sylvia's shrill shrieks brought Tim, Buck, and a slew of other half drunk and totally trashed individuals.
Before Dally knew it he was being hauled to his feet and drug by several people out the door.
Dally shrugged. "Yeah and I could use some action too. Haven't seen a girl in awhile."
"Nah, but that girl has seen plenty of other guys."
Dally swore back at Tim and flung a wild punch in his direction. It might have been true, but he didn't want it all over town that his girl was screwing whoever she wanted to – or that he still wanted her after she did.
The party was raging when they got there, guys yelping, girls laughing, music blaring…
"Alright! Party!" Tim grinned, opening the door without knocking.
The tiny house was crammed full of people, with one thing in common – they were all drunk, or soon going to be. Couples danced with each other next to the tape machine, pressed so close they took up the same amount of space as one large person. The girls were perched on a few dining room chairs, chirping about make-up, clothes, and above all, men. These were not the whispery, giggly, chaste kind of girls. They were the loud, slutty, gonna-have-fun-if-it-kills-me girls, that the guys loved, and the prudish femmes envied. A group of single guys were strewn about the couches, drinks in hand, telling stories that would have made the opposite side holler and slap them (all in good fun of course). Buck was amongst them. He looked up as Tim and Dally entered and grinned.
"Hey there, Shepard. Saw your sister 'round here tonight."
Tim's jaw dropped. "Angela?"
One of the guys whistled. "Whoee, she was lookin' mighty fine in that tiny little dress and heels. Went off with some guy out back. Probably layin' him right now-"
"Shut your trap!" Tim hollered, launching himself at the guy, knocking over Buck's drink.
"Hey!" Buck yelped in protest, scrambling to get out of Tim's way. He caught Dally's eye and winked. "I know who you're lookin' for-"
"Everyone knows who you're looking for," someone added.
Buck grinned crazily. "She's around here somewhere. And she ain't with me," he hollered holding up his hands for peace. "C'mon man, that was a while ago-"
Dally slugged him once then backed off. "Deal with you later," he growled, turning his back on the bunch of guys. He needed to find Sylvia before the whole town knew what she was up to.
He shoved his way through the crowded hallway, eyes searching for his girl. He pulled up short at the kitchen – Sylvia was perched on a stool, drinking beer, laughing gaily with some guy he didn't know.
"Well gosh, I didn't know you had muscles that big," she laughed, pushing on his arm.
The moron grinned hitching up his pants. "That's ain't the half of it baby."
Sylvia made herself laugh again, but couldn't help rolling her eyes. She knew Dally would show up here, he had to. But how much longer would she have to wait for him to get there?
"Beat it," a familiar voice growled from behind her. The moron opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again and backed off, looking pissed.
Sylvia smiled. "Dallas," she said without looking at him.
"Girl, I gotta teach you a lesson," he hissed. "'Bout why it ain't good for little two-faced broads to be running around when they got a boyfriend."
"Oh but Dal," she sighed smoothly hopping from the stool and gliding in his direction. She ran her hands up his flannel shirted chest, "I didn't know you were my 'boyfriend', per se." She cocked her head and attempted to look innocent.
Dally pushed her aside as his chest began to heave in anger. He knew she was pulling one over on him, but he wasn't about to look the fool in front of Mr. Muscles. "I'll deal with you in a minute."
"What's a'matter?" the drunken hillbilly blurted at Dally. "She's my broad and you better let it go little man." The dark haired brut pushed a finger in Dally's chest.
Dally sighed inwardly, hot vigorous blood pumping viciously through his veins. He'd been angry all day, why not finish the night out with the fight he'd been working up to all day? At that moment Dally thought of Johnny, and how willing he'd been to pound someone's head in, then his mind flipped to the drunken Soc who threatened his life in front of Tim, Curly, and Pony, and now to his whore willingly flouncing around with this lunatic…and he let his rage loose. He leapt like a wild cat, teeth bared and arms flailing into the hillbilly's chest.
The nameless guy tumbled back as Dally began pounding on his face, chest, arms, whatever he could and didn't stop. Moments later the two were rolling around on the ground throwing a punch here and there until Sylvia's shrill shrieks brought Tim, Buck, and a slew of other half drunk and totally trashed individuals.
Before Dally knew it he was being hauled to his feet and drug by several people out the door.