August Rumble

[murderofcrows]

ok, here's the redone version...thanks for your comments, they were very helpful! refer to disclaimers in the first post, they still apply...

--

God, I hoped that no one would see me. I would never forgive myself for taking this job, even if it was to keep my brothers together. Two-bit knows…or at least he has a damn good idea…one time he found a black sequined g-string in my bag and cocked an eyebrow at me. I had grabbed it out of his hand and made him swear that he would never ever even hint that he had seen anything like that in my bag. I’m sure my face was beet red as I stuffed the g-string back into the bag. Tonight was no different than any other night; I parked at least five blocks away and took the long way to the back of the place to avoid being seen walking into my night job…at the XXX live show downtown.

The XXX live show downtown was Tulsa’s only strip club. It featured both men and women exotic dancers as well as scantily clad waiters and waitresses. When I had been laid off from my night job at the factory, I had been desperate for another job; my roofing job just wasn’t going to cut it with two teenaged boys to support. I had literally looked everywhere, begging and pleading, but to no avail. Until I came here.

Loud music pumped out of the place and assaulted my ears as I opened the door. The first time I had opened the door, I had considered pressing charges against the amps for assault and battery of eardrums, but now I was so used to it I barely noticed it. Slinking along the narrow hallway toward the dressing rooms, I almost ran over another performer.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“Whoa, watch where yer goin there, big guy,” a familiar voice said, and my eyes widened as the performer turned around to reveal…Two-Bit.

“Two-Bit?!” I yelled in disbelief, shock and horror enveloping my body. There was no denying it now.

“Hey! Didn’t know if I was gonna see you here my first night or not!”

“First night? Two-Bit…what’s going on?”

“I got a job, that’s what!”

“What?!”

“Yeah! I know, I know, I said all that crap about not wanting a job ‘cause it would ruin my rep, but I didn’t know there was something like this out there…I mean I shake my groove thang and I get some money, that seems almost like stealing to me!” he exclaimed as he gave me a wink. “Plus, it’ll give us time to hang out some more, I know it’s hard with you working two jobs and all, but I really miss hangin out with you, Dar.”

He actually had made the last part sound sincere, I had to give him that. I sighed heavily. “I have to go get dressed, I…I guess I’ll see you on stage.”

“More like UNdressed! Haha!!” nudged Two-Bit as he winked at me, and with that, he bounded off. I shook my head; could this day get any worse?

Back in the dressing room, I steeled myself for the performance ahead of me. Even though I thought this was ridiculous, I still took it pretty seriously. Chalk it up to that drive I have to excel in everything I do, but damnit when I was out on that stage I wanted to be the best exotic dancer in Tulsa.

“Five minutes, Mr. Curtis,” a stage assistant informed me, and I nodded my acknowledgement. Butterflies alighted in my stomach for the first time since after I had started working here. I chalked it up to Two-Bit being here; I wasn’t even on stage yet and I was already nervous. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I waited for the beginning part of my song…

I'm too sexy for my love
Too sexy for my love
Love's going to leeeeeave meeeeee.

With that, I burst out on stage, swinging in time to the beat of the music.

I'm too sexy for my shirt
Too sexy for my shirt
So sexy it huuuurts

I tore off the prop shirt I wore, to much the delight and swooning of the audience, and – deciding to be generous – I threw it out into the crowd…

...and did a double take when I realized that it landed on Dallas Winston.

I paled, but even doubly so when I saw Sodapop and Steve sitting next to him, their mouths gaping. I paused for a moment, torn between wanting to explain myself or continuing my routine, when Steve said, “I’m not listening to Dally anymore, I don’t care what he promises.” With that, he grabbed Sodapop’s hand and dragged him out of the club, Soda’s mouth still gaping. Dally quirked an eyebrow at me before handing the shirt to a female audience member and following them out.

Quite shaken by this and at the prospect of explaining myself later, I continued on; I had already missed part of it, and I’m sure the boss wasn’t going to be too happy with me.

I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I do my little turn on the catwalk

I shook off my anxiousness quickly, not wanting my dance tonight to be feeble because of this one encounter, and I soon found myself back into my usual groove.

I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car
Too sexy by far
And I'm too sexy for my hat
Too sexy for my hat what do you think about that
I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little tush on the catwalk

All the girls in the club screamed at the last part; they loved it when I acted it out, especially since I took the opportunity to shake off the pants that I was wearing.

I'm too sexy for my too sexy for my too sexy for my
'Cos I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little tush on the catwalk
I'm too sexy for my cat too sexy for my cat
Poor pussy poor pussy cat
I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me
And I'm too sexy for this song

The audience certainly seemed to love it, and I was already pulling in some good tips. This was going to be a good night for tips, the place was absolutely packed.

I was really starting to loosen up now, my earlier nervousness gone. I gave lap dances for swooning girls – and even a couple of guys – and they tipped my generously, especially when I flashed them a smile and my signature hip wiggle.

Suddenly, I saw someone else that I recognized, someone who was the last person I would expect to see here.

Ponyboy was standing in the middle of the crowd.

Johnny Cade was standing beside him, but neither of them had seen me yet. They looked nervous, and I wondered why in the world they were here; they weren’t even interested in stuff like this! I suddenly understood why, however, when Curly Shepard stepped in between them and draped his arms over their shoulders. Knowing Curly, he had probably dared them to come in here.

I was going to kill that Shepard kid. But, first things first.

My legal guardian side took over, and I marched over to them, trying to look as intimidating as I could in a purple g-string. They were all in the middle of a conversation, so they didn’t even see me until I stepped up to them and said, “Ponyboy Michael Curtis, what are you doing here?!”

Ponyboy’s head whipped around so fast, I was afraid he’d snapped it. His eyes widened as the color drained from his face, and then turned bright red when he realized that I was practically naked save for a few bits of cloth. “Darry, uh…what…uh…”

Curly, however, smiled slyly and nudged them both. “Alright, here’s a chance to fulfill yer dare…ask for a lap dance!”

Ponyboy looked over at him, shocked and terrified at the same time, his mouth opening and closing several times as he was trying to figure out what to say next.

Two-Bit came up behind me and smirked mischievously as he suggested to me, “Why don’t we give them all lap dances? I’d be glad to give you one, Curly.”

Curly’s face then paled; his joke had been turned around on him. “Um, uh, no thanks,” he mumbled as he pulled Johnny and Pony with him out the door. I shook my head at them; great, now everyone knew. Could this night get any worse?

“I’ll take you up on that lap dance, Matthews,” a familiar voice said, as Tim Shepard materialized out of the crowd, waving a dollar bill at Two-Bit.

“Why sure! Hell, this is my song!” Two-Bit whooped.

Tim grinned and took a seat, looking like a Cheshire cat as Two-Bit circled him, bopping to the beat of the song.

I’m bringing sexy back
Them other boys don’t know how to act
I think you're special, what's behind your back?
So turn around and I'll pick up the slack.

Take 'em to the bridge

Dirty babe
You see the shackles
Baby I’m your slave
I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave
It’s just that no one makes me feel this way

Tim ran the dollar bill down Two-Bit’s chest as Two-Bit straddled him, breathing heavy from effort and gyrating to the song.

Trying to ignore them as much as I could, I went on working my way through the crowd, trying to forget everything that had happened so far tonight. I was considering driving the truck off a cliff, but such cliffs are hard to find in the city of Tulsa.

I caught up with Two-Bit after a few songs, and he flashed a smile at me. Sweat was starting to roll down his face, which was flushed with exertion, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. Curiosity was tugging at me, and I had to ask him. “Hey, how much did Tim give you for that lap dance?”

“A dollar.”

“Just a dollar?”

“Yeah, but the joke’s on him. I lifted his wallet!”

[texaskid]

you know I read the first one and I laughed I thought the absurdity of the idea was funny and then I read the second one and laughed again. For some reason I didn't think that Darry as a exotic dancer would be interesting but you did well nicely done.

[murderofcrows]

thanks texaskid, and missmouse sorry i didn't say thank you earlier!

[cooroo]

*nods* Yep, I liked this one a lot better. The explanation really helped. It was nice to know why the others were there.
And I didn't mention this in my last review, but Two-Bit lifting Tim's wallet was a stroke of genius!

[murderofcrows]

lol that two-bit lifting tim's wallet thing came DIRECTLY from the pm convo that ash and i were having about a fic like this...we were going back and forth with "dialogue possibilities" and i came up with that. [actually, quite a bit of the fic came from that lol]

i debated between having two-bit's line be the last line, or the last line be darry's thought, "i didn't even want to ask where he had stashed it" but in the end, two-bit won out because i didn't want to make it much more graphic than it already was and i love two-bit to death, so i thought he should have the last line.

[ash]

And as you said, it worked.

[Tensleep]

Well, I just got back last night and it looks like a lot has gone on this week! So, on to business!

Replies:

Cooroo: Thanks! I'm really glad you got a chuckle out of it and that you thought it was well written - the ultimate compliment in my books. I think you picked out my favorite line, too.

Murderofcrows: Thanks!

Missmouse: You are really giving me ideas for a sequel here!Seriously, I think I will have to continue this one! Thanks!

Review:

Murderofcrows: Well, you've managed to prove that even if it is out of character, it can always be made better. Thanks for posting both versions for us.

I thought it was a very out there, very out of character to find all the boys there, and just entertaining. My only criticism is that Darry, for all of his actions, is very in character with his devotion to his family, taking a job he isn't comfortable with just to keep them afloat, his surprise at finding them there because he was keeping it a secret, etc. It works with the piece, and I like the juxtaposition that offers, I just wasn't expecting it.
Two-Bit stole the show at the end and I love your closing line. Great job! Hope to see more from you!

Keep 'em coming, guys!

[murderofcrows]

thanks, tens, i can't wait for next month's rumble!

[cooroo]

Ok, you guys, this is unbeta'd, mainly because my dad always reads through stuff for me (he's my editor) and tells me what needs to be fixed, but he's been really busy lately, so I figured I might as well post this. I'm not the best at writing humourously, so hopefully this'll make someone laugh.
-----------------------------------------------

It was Friday night. Where should Dallas Winston be? Maybe getting into a fight. Maybe going around town with Tim Shepard. Maybe riding in a rodeo. Maybe with his girl Sylvia.

But no, he was here, in a dark smoky bar. That in itself wasn't unusual at all, but when you looked at what he was doing... well, you couldn't be sure it was Dallas Winston at all.

There he was, though, looking down at his hands through sunglasses-covered eyes, occasionally glancing up at the patrons of the bar with a cocky grin on his face, the kind of grin that said 'I'm having the time of my life and you're not'. His hands were all but flying over the piano keys, somehow never hitting the wrong one. His left hand's fingers jammed down on the keys while his right hand's continued dancing as the music came to its rousing crescendo.

There was a smattering of applause as it finished. Dally grinned around at the men who played along with him. He didn't actually know any of them. In this bar, nobody knew anybody and that was the way Dally liked it. That way he wasn't in any danger of anybody from the gang or Tim Shepard's outfit finding out. People around here didn't even know his real name – he was simply known as New York.

Dally started playing furiously again, tapping his foot on the floor in time. The other men, recognising the song, joined in and the bass player called, “Take it, New York!”

Dally smirked. This was something that was said nearly every time he was in here, but he never got used to how corny it sounded. All the same, he took it.

After finishing Professor Longhair's 'Hey Little Girl' and a few other favourites, there was a request for anything by Ray Charles. Dally grinned wolfishly as one of the blonde waitresses – a real fox called Nancy – ran over and started singing the well-known chorus. “Hit the road, Jack, and don't come back...”

Dally started singing his part of the song. “Whoa, woman, oh woman, don't treat me so mean...” Yes, Dallas Winston not only played the piano; he sang, too. Not even something tuff like Elvis, but Ray Charles. He winked at Nancy at he continued with his part. Hopefully she'd join him for a drink after this. Here, of course, or somewhere nearby, where there was no chance of running into anybody he knew. He would enjoy showing off a girl like her to Shepard, but it wasn't worth the risk of her mentioning something about his piano playing or singing. It would take a lot of punches to make the leader of the Shepard gang forget something like that. Curly Shepard would be even harder; the kid didn't know how to quit when he was ahead.

Dallas shook his head, thinking about it, and nearly hit the wrong note. Mustn't get distracted, he told himself. It was a mistake he had made a lot in the early days of playing. He'd start thinking about the gang, possibly even imaging that somebody who had just walked in was Two-Bit or Steve, and he'd have two left hands playing. Or, no, worse than that, because he could play pretty damn well with his left hand. He'd suddenly be playing with two left feet.

But those days were over, thank God, and he was now known throughout the bar as New York, the tuffest pianist around. It had taken a lot to get that reputation, a lot of fast finger movement and some quick fights, held outside the bar, of course. He didn't want to lose his job or anything. It would be near impossible to get back.

Getting it had been easy enough, though. It had been a rainy Friday night about a year ago, and Dally had been wet, cold, and bleeding from a meeting with some smart-ass kids earlier. Well, he had been bleeding, but that didn't matter. They'd be scared to even look him in the eye ever again.

He hadn't been near somewhere that he could stay for the night, and the combination of wind and rain was freezing him half to death. He had ducked into the first bar he had seen, despite the music they were playing, ordered a whisky, and downed it in one go.

An hour later, Dally was still there, still sitting on the same bar stool, still drinking, when he had overheard a conversation between the apparent manager of the place and the bartender. Well, maybe 'overheard' isn't the quite the right word, because the manager was talking loudly enough for the entire room to hear.

“I don't care if there's a flood in his front yard, he can still get here.”

“Bill, what happened was -”

“He's lost his job, that's what's happened. Call him and tell him he's fired.” The balding manager had looked around the room before barking, “And then help me find another pianist.”

Hearing these words, Dally had suddenly been forcefully reminded of playing the piano in New York bars and occasionally playing a chord or two in Buck's place... when it was empty, of course. He stood and, not knowing if it was him or the alcohol talking, had said, “I'll do it.”

That evening, two hours and what seemed like a million songs later, Dally had left the bar with, despite his fingers making a couple of mistakes, a job on Friday nights at Bill's bar. It paid real well and, much as he hated to admit it, it was a job he enjoyed. The only problem was that Bill wasn't like Buck Merril; he wasn't the kind of guy you could manipulate.

Well, that, and the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about somebody finding out.

But that wasn't likely, he forced himself to remember. He could just relax and enjoy playing and stop glancing at the door like he was paranoid or something. Even if the guy who just walked in did look amazingly like Two-Bit.

The evening finished off with a song by The Beatles, Dally mentally cringing throughout the entire thing. He had always liked Ray Charles and, once he had actually listened to them, the likes of James Brown and Professor Longhair weren't bad at all, but he had never been able to stand The Beatles, and never would. The occasional person 'round here seemed to dig them, though, and the band couldn't really deny a request. But it was a good thing that people who frequented this bar often chose to listen to good music, otherwise he would have quit a long time ago.

But the song was finally over, and Dally stood and walked over to Nancy. “Join me for a drink?”

She glanced around, then nodded. Her shift ended in ten minutes and if Bill was drunk, like he was now, it was easy to sneak off early. “Yeah, aw'right.”

They headed to a nearby bar and drank themselves silly. The last thing Dally really remembered was her grinning idiotically at him as he took her hand and led her out of the bar, tripping over his own feet.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in an unknown car, sun glaring into his eyes. He shut them and groaned, trying to move himself off the stick shift, which was digging uncomfortable into his back. One of his many problems, though, was that if he moved, he would definitely throw up. Which, judging from the smell, Nancy already had. And, he found out when he cracked open his eyes, it was all over his pants, which were half on, half off.

That evening at Buck's, when Tim Shepard and Merril himself asked him what he had been up to the night before, Dallas had stared at them for a moment or two before replying, “Nothing much. It was just a regular Friday night. Spent it with a real cute broad, Nancy.”

They didn't need to know the details.

[murderofcrows]

lol that was funny! still slightly in character for dally, his worrying about his rep and instigating a couple of fights and all, but ooc enough to be hilarious. i especially love...

Or, no, worse than that, because he could play pretty damn well with his left hand. He'd suddenly be playing with two left feet.

that made me crack up. ;D


on another note...[yes, i like using quote boxes, so sue me ]

Even if the guy who just walked in did look amazingly like Two-Bit.

is there a sequel lurking somwhere where that guy was two-bit?? i think it would be interesting...

[texaskid]

dally playing the piano wow totally made me laugh

[murderofcrows]

AND singing. don't forget the singing.

[cooroo]

Murderofcrows: Thanks! You have no idea how happy I was to hear that you thought Dally was still slightly in character - thank was exactly what I was going for! Or, at least, trying to go for. I'm glad you liked it.

Texaskid: Glad I made you laugh! Am I the only one who can see Dally playing the piano, by the way?

[Tensleep]

Cooroo: I love how you wrote this. Even though Dallas has the most unusual double life, he's still Dallas. And I have to admit, I could see him having talent and hiding it - a very Dallas thing to do. I think the very last part is my favorite. I can see Dallas' reputation doing the talking for him there and it fit very well. Great job and keep up the good work!

[cooroo]

Thanks, Tens! The last bit was my favourite bit to write, too I'm glad you can see Dally doing something like that, too.