NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Hey again! Thanks to SpeedyFan for the first review! :) Okay, first real chapter of the story! R&R ;P Y'all, this one's short… I promise future chapters will be lengthier (if yall want of course)! :D

CHAPTER ONE: Soda

Soda opened his eyes slowly and looked around. Where was he? He was in a kitchen of some sort. He could smell something frying… He pushed back the wooden chair and got up. Walking around, Soda searched for a clue as to where the heck he was. As he explored the premisis, he tripped over something. He stood back up, dusted himself off and looked back at what he had tripped on. Hmm… where those— blue suede shoes?

"Don't you step on my blue suede shoes! You can do anything but lay off my blue suede shoes!"

Soda glanced around, seeing no one.

"Hello? My name's Sodapop Curtis and I—" Suddenly, none other than Elvis Presley was standing in front of him.

"E-E-Elvis?" Soda stuttered. "Uh, I mean Mr Presley? Or, um, Mr King? Or God Almighty?"

Elvis flipped his dark hair. "I'm gonna make me a fried peanut butter an' banana a-sandwich. You want one too?" Sodapop's mouth watered involuntarily.

"Sure! It's now or never, right?" he laughed happily. Suddenly, The King burst into song.

"It's now or never, come hold me tight. Kiss me, my darlin', be mine tonight."

Soda swallowed. "Uh, no thanks, I'll pass."

"No, I'm never gonna fall in love!" he sang, show casing one of his famous hip moves.

"You can only sing things right? What's wrong, are you, uh, okay?"

"Well, m'hands are shaky an' m'knees are weak; I can't seem to stand on my own two feet!"

Soda was at a loss for words. He didn't want to say anything more. Suddenly, a peculiar aroma wafted through the kitchen.

"Glory hallelujah, Elvis! Your peanut butter and banana sandwich is burning!"

"Lord Almighty! I feel my temperature risin'! Higher, higher! It's burnin' through to my soul." He sang. Soda gave a loud yell as he disposed of the charred 'sandwich'. He and Elvis then stood next to each other awkwardly. Soda shuffled his feet nervously.

"So, uh… you from 'round here?" Soda asked, desperately trying to make conversation.

"Get back home where my childhood dreams and wishes are none of my regrets… go back to a place where I can figure all the oods. Have a fighting chance to lose the blues and win my share of bets!" Elvis warbled happily.

"Well," Sodapop said flatly, "I guess I'll take that as a 'yes'."