The Mixed Tape

"Hold him." I snapped my fingers calmly at Sam as the struggling greaser fought to set free. It was dark, almost midnight, and all alone on an empty alley is not very smart, is it Austin? Sam held him tight, placing his knees on his chest and holding his arms. "Hey Austin, how's it going?" There is always a story behind every action and so I think you greasers out to know the little story behind what was once a very tight friendship.

It all started when we where kids. You know, "those moments when all you had to worry about was who had the box of crayons, who ran the fastest, who got the candy" and all that shit. Bad stuff down memory lane but I think you out to know. We met when we where around four or so at a park down main street, no man's land, and so despite their economic differences, our mom's became friends... sigh.

"How are ya liking it Brumly? Maybe a few kicks on the head? With any luck we'll reasemble your face." The greaser whinced in pain but I rolled my eyes. I motioned for Trace to do his job and he shut Austin up real good.

We went to school together, we had the same teachers. We hang out after school, play games and all that kid stuff. We got into trouble together. I'd make up a plan and he would put it into action.

I anspped my fingers again and Sam moved to the side. I walked slowly towards him and smiled when he spat some blood off his mouth. "Nice to finally see my best friend." I grinned at him. Austin looked at me intently. His bloody face gave him some sort of wild greaser look. It suit him for what he was worth. "You're not my best friend." He spat. "You ain't him." I laughed and turned away, opening a bottle of cognac I had saved just in case. "So, what are you doing with your life Austin? Heard you tried to commit suicide. What? Trying to kill yourself before I got to you? That's sort of pathetic, don't you think?" He kept silent, just looking at me, perhaps fearing I'd get to him. Fear was probably the wisest thing for him to do. "It took me awhile but I finally got ya. That's why, you, are gonna suffer the most." Austin struggled to set free. I could see the rage in his eyes as Sam's tight grip got in the way. He stared at me for five minutes and I kicked him in the ribs. "Well answer me, dumbass." I said ripping the tape from his mouth. "You can't hurt me! I'm the best!" I laughed cruelly as I leaned down next to him. "Is that what you tell yourself, Austin? Really?" There was a moment of silence as Austin read my expression. He knew I knew him very well. Perhaps better than anyone. After all, our friendshipt lasted till the seventh grade. "You aren't as bad as you want people to think. You're 'tuff' but inside you're as soft as jell-o." I got up and punched his stomach. "All you ever wanted was someone to love. Oh how cute, excuse me if I throw up." I puched him again and then I whisper close to him. "And when you found someone, you mess it up. Truth is, you'll never be happy." Then I kicked him in the head and he passed out. "Grab him." I said. "We're gonna go on a little ride." Picking up Austin, Sam and Trace followed me into the car. With the unconciouss greaser in the back seat, we drove away, to a place he kept running from.

We parked in front of a old building. It had once been a fire station, but that was around twenty years ago. Then it turned to be the club house of some elementary boys. "Get him in and tie him." I said to Sam. He nodded and got out of the car. Trace followed him and once they where gone I took out my phone. "Everything set?" I asked Paul at the other end of the line. "As you asked." He said, his voice confident and even amused. I smiled. "Good. We got him in."

After twenty minutes, dear sleeping beauty came back to his senses. "Remember this place?" I shot at him before he could completly regain composture. He rolled his eyes and shot me an evil glare. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." I ignored the arrogancy in his voice. I just smirked. I walked to the middle of a large dark room. I snapped my fingers and he lights turned on. "Welcome to the love game! Austin Brumly, you're our contestant today!" I saw the expression of confusion in Brumly's face. I honestly couldn't wait till he saw what was waiting for him. At the other end of the room, Paul, Eric and Randy held two large bags. They dropped them to the ground and tied them up to a chair. There laid Ari and Brooklyn Cade. I turned to look at Austin. His heart dropped and his face turned a sick pale. I smiled. I walked up to him confidently and whispered on his ear. "You recognize them, Austin? Let me give you a hint. They are girls that you broke their hearts." Before he could miserably attempt to hit me, I walked to the girls. "Wake them up." I snapped. Between slaps the girls regained conciousness. I turned to Austin. "See dear Austin, physically hurting you is fun, but emotionally hurting you will be the whole package." I snickered.

Before I could do anything else, what the greaser said stopped me. "Bobby you don't have to do do this." I rolled my eyes at his pathetic little nickname. "And why is that?" I asked indignant. "Because we used to be best friends. I know that the old you is somewhere in there. You don't have to prove anything to me." I was starting to get pissed. I walked towards him and slapped him across the face. "Yes I do, Austin. Do you remember? In seventh grade we didn't just 'stopped hanging out'. I needed your help and you turned to look away. They where greasers and at that moment, you chose them over me, economic levels aside. Okay, fine, that's why right now, I'm choosing everything else over you. How about that?" I asked. He sighed and I didn't have time to deal with him. It was late and there was a party going on at Marcia's. I walked up to Paul and whispered on his ear. He nodded. Before I left I turned to look at Austin. "Tell your little greaser friends that Bob Sheldon says hi." And I left.

-Bob Sheldon

It's Over And I'm Not Sorry

Blair Mathews used to be one of the few greasers who didn't have any potencial weaknesses. But times change. Now she's got one.

Wonder how we got inside the little whore's nerves. Easy. Take away what matters the most to her. Take away a part of her. In other words, what if we pay a visit to little Rhiley Blaze? I guess that even with her little son, Blair still rather spend her time drunk off her ass in partying in some boy's pants. Didn't daddy ever told you Blair that your brain was between your ears and not your legs? Oh wait, sorry, my fault, he was gone long before you could even figure out boys didn't have cooties. I think everyone at the gang should realize that leaving the little baby unprotected is not very wise. But then again, I'm sure that is quite hard for all of you ape faces to understand. You can barely take care of yourselves. It was little Jamie's time to babysit. Don't you think it is a little selfish of you Blair to leave your little sister taking care of your mistake? We entered the house. It was unlocked. You greasers don't learn, do you? Jamie was on the phone, probably talking to her BFF about cooties, boys, makeup, and shopping. What an entertaining conversation. Such a shame I didn't really have time to stay around to chat. Rhiley was laying on his crib, sound asleep. Paul and Sam made sure nothing got in the way as I gently grabbed the baby and hold it in my arms. He was slippery and quite weird to hold. I'm not having kids. That's for damn sure. They are only a menace to your time and a distraction.

We walked slowly but casually out the door before leaving a note in the crib.

Dear Mathews,

If you would like to see your precious little annoyance again, please meet me at my place.

Love,
Bobby

It probably took her around two hours to find her way at last. Maybe she got lost on her way. Wouldn't blame her. She was probably so drunk she hardly recognize left from right. Or maybe she died. Whatever. I was still holding her precious baby and sooner or later someone would come looking for him. That was, of course, if they actually care. I wouldn't, personally. After a while the door flung open and some groans and struggles from the main lobby where heard. I rolled my eyes as Randy and Sam held Blair tightly as she attempted to set free and probably kick my ass. Wow. I was so scared. "GIVE ME BACK MY SON, SHELDON!" She said yelling. Sam tightened her grip and she grimaced but kept a straight face. Poor stupid tough girl. "Oh, hello there, Blair. Long time, no see." I said stroking down the baby. "Give you back your son? I'm sorry. No can do." I said. Blair kicked and struggled and yelled but it was quite easy for the boys to keep her behaved. She's quite small. You know, filthy greaser, you can't win if you come alone. "I'll make you a deal, Mathews. I'll give you back, this and you can tell me all I want to know." I said. Blair glared at me deadly. I just chuckled. "I'M DONE WARNING YOU, SHELDON, GIVE ME BACK MY SON." I sighed. "Oh but Blair, we are just starting to get along. You don't want your baby to suddenly have an unfortunate mistake, now do you?" She growled at me and was almost able to run towards me but Randy locked her arms in a wrestled move. "DON'T YOU DARE, BITCH." I scoffed. I paced around her for a moment, smiling at myself as a bright idea occured to me. "You know Blair, you are only seventeen. What would child services think if they knew you where taking care of a baby not only you can't afford, but can't take care of either? I mean look at you, you can barely keep yourself sober. What type of childhood do you want your child to have?" Blair fought to get loose but it was impossible to brake from the grip. I just grinned.

"Trace, call Child Services." I ordered him. Trace nodded and run for the phone. "Wait!" Blair yelled annoyed and angry. "I'll tell you everything you need to know." She said. I smiled and motoioned Trace to stop. I walked towards her amazed. She was really just about to betray her friends in order to protect her son? That was a low one. What a really great friend you greasers have here. Tsk. Tsk. "Come with me." I said. I left Rhiley with Randy and Sam and me walked towards the basement with Mathews literally dragged. To make a long story short, she told me everything I needed to know and ever wanted. I would seriously think twice over who to tell your dirty little secrets too the next time, greasers. When we came up, I let go of Blair and turned to look at Trace. He nodded. Then there was a knock on the door and the door bell rang. "NO!" Blair yelled. But before she could do anything, a social worker stepped towards the house and Trace and me walked over to her. Sam held Blair as we talked with the nice lady that was taking Rhiley Blaze in her arms. "Have a nice trip, little one." I said to the thing. Blair was so angry she ran towards me but the boys managed to held her down as I spat next to her and made my way to do better things. "Oh, don't worry, Mathews. You should be happy I did you both a favour."

-Bob Sheldon

Double Fun That Way

So far it's been one person at a time. One victim after another. One tear shred after another. It's been a pleasing four weeks. Wow, a month already? Time flies by so fast when you are enjoying yourself. This week's victim wasn't that hard to pick. Actually, I had been looking forward for their turn. I decided that double fun might be something my expectators would love to read about.

Who's our little greaser tonight? I'll give you a clue: "He is handsomer than anyone else I know. Not like Darry, he is movie-star kind of handsome, that kind that people stop on the streetto watch go by..." I hope you're not surprised. I mean, c'mon, you saw this coming. I had debated wether to leave Sodapop for the end or not. But I have more important people to deal with later on and well, as much as I enjoy bringing the best in Curtis, he's not that high on my favourites list. Such a shame, I know. My buddies and I carefully planned the evening so that everything would be in place and no distractions would interrumpt. You must know that I've got connections all over Tulsa. I can get my way on the lowest of possibilities. So first, we had to get rid of all the friends and family. It wasn't that hard. We got a friend at a local bar to throw a party with free beer. That got rid of pretty much all the friends. Whoever was left, well... Not really getting into details. Then we got rid of the family. I managed to talk the boss into forcing the big one to stay overtime if he cared enough for the wellfare of his family. The girl was probably getting her toungue stuck under her boyfriend's shirt or something at a drunken afternoon, so that took care of it. And the little one stayed for a whole day old movie marathon at the drive in. Very little things are impossile with money. We knew the wife would come home somewhere after five, and her schedule was pretty easy to get ahold of. I sent Paul and Trace over to greet her. That left Sodapop all alone at that pathetic little house of his.

When the timing was perfect, Randy, Sam, Jason, and I sneaked inside the house and waited for the greaser to come out of the kitchen. Only a dumbass would leave his door unlocked when he knows someone's out to get him. "Hello, Soda." I grinned slyly as he approched the living room. Sodapop's face turned white. He was stuck dumb for a moment but his expression changed when he realized who it was. Anger took over. "Get the fuck away from my house, Sheldon!" He yelled throwing a the glass he was holding at us. He really needs to work on his aiming. I cocked an eyebrow. "Is that the way you treat your guests, Curtis? I must say, I'm not surprised." He walked towards us and grabbed me by my shirt pulling me close to his dirty face. Immediatley, the guys stood up to act defensively if it was needed. I told him to lay off. "Get your fucking butt away from here, Sheldon! Or I will personally beat the crap out of you!" I chuckled at his naïveness. "Would you, Curtis? Knowing that whatever you do to me, will only turn out worst for your little wife?" I asked casually. He stared at me intently and let go of my shirt bruscally. I scoffed fixing my attire and whipping off his dirty hands off the fabric. His face expressed fear and I almost laughed at it. I half smiled fixing my knuckles and continued to explain to the dumbass what he couldn't possibly understand. "Show him, boys, just how well he takes care of his wife." Randy got the door and Paul and Trace stepped in holding Katie effortlessly. Soda cringed and glared at me. "YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" He yelled and made a run for me, only to find himself pinned down five seconds flat by Sam. He kicked his nose and it started bleeding. Aw, pretty boy's face was messed up. Such a shame. Sam lifted him up and held his face tightly forcing him to look at me and at his wife. I turned to look at Katie, who was gasping in fear under Paul's grip. "Well hello there. Nice of you to meet us, Mrs. Curtis." I said with a friendly tone. "Your husband here was missing you dearly." Soda was starting to say some pretty bad words but Sam held him tighter, forcing him to shut his mouth. I smiled.

"What about we play a little game, huh Curtis? I'll let you fight me. But every wrong move and your wife will pay for it, ya dig? If you don't, then, well, let's just say that she pays for it too. Your call." I said. Soda turned to look from me to Katie and back to me with complete disgust. He was hesistant. I rolled my eyes. He nodded slowly and I snapped my fingers for Sam to let him go. He dropped to the floor and I let him take his time to stand up. Once he was on his feet, I punched him back and he hit the floor again. This was way too easy. "C'mon, Curtis, show me what you got. How much do you hate me." He got up and whipped the blood from his face. He turned to look at me and threw a punch that missed. I held his hands and got a hold of him on a arm twitch. "I wouldn't have done that, man." I said looking from Katie to him. "Now watch how your lovely wife pays." I nodded to Trace and he got his blade out. He caressed her pretty neck with it and drop by drop blood started to leave. She cringed helding the screams back. Probably to make it easier for Sodapop. I rolled my eyes. Okay, fine. Slowly. That's how we'll get through this. One punch at a time. I turned Soda's arms to the other way and threw him at the floor. He then held my arm and shoved me to the wall. Sam stepped in and knocked him to the floor with two punchs. I placed my feet over his chest. "Oh, Sodapop." I said and then turned to look at Katie. Traced cut deeper and as much as the girl tried to fight the urge to scream, the pain was too much. I could feel Curtis shaking in anger but I held him down quite easily. "Tell me, how's your little Snow doing?" I asked indifferently. Soda knocked me down. "DON'T YOU EVER SPEAK OF MY DAUGHTER AGAIN, SHELDON!!!" I grinned. Please, like a little fetus really interested me. Paul got him this time and I snapped my fingers at Trace. I almost felt bad for Katie. Almost. That's how it went for a few minutes, until Soda just bent on his knees begging for it to stop. To stop for her. That was quite a ridiculous thing to do, Soda. Risking your own well being for a girl? It makes me sick. I let Sam finish the job.

Curtis was laying on his knees and I motioned to Trace to let the girl go. Soda quickly grabbed a hold of her. I stared indifferently at the pathetic couple of greasers holding themselves. It was repulsive. They where covered in blood and had dirt all over their faces. I rolled my eyes as I we got out. "You think, this'll teach them?" Trace asked. I grinned slyly. "It'll show them how defenseless they are even in the sanity of their own home."

-Bob Sheldon

Go Home, You're Through

"Hello, my name is Two-Bit Mathews and I'm an alcoholic." "Hello, Two-Bit." Oddly enough, I wouldn't doubt one day tough guy would end up on one of those rehab places. So you would think as being a Friday I would have my hands filled in one of our famous beer blasts. You guessed correctly. But that doesn't mean I can't make time for my pathetic little greasers. It would inconsiderate if I only thought of myself.

This week it was little Mickey Mouse lover, Keith Mathews. I must tell you, getting him to fall for it wasn't that hard at all. Just insert the words 'free beer' into any invitation and he'll be there, regardless of the time or place. So Friday night, the folks where out, actually they will be out all week so that means freedom for us priviledge elites. Anyway, a house without the parents equals a wild party, so that's what I did. I just decided to have Mathews as the guest of honour. He got there around nine at night, and we let him in. It was just the guys and me, much to my great pleasure. Of course Two-Bit was too drunk already to notice anything out of the ordinary so we took that into our advantage. The first checkmark to our plan was to get him as drunk as possible. It was amusing. Randy and Paul sat him down and fed him whatever alcoholic beverage we could find in the house until he was at the border of unconciousness. He kept him awake though. We forced him away. Methods? Let your imagination work a little. It wasn't necessary to get him to sit still, he was too dumbstruck and it made me wonder who on earth could want to spend time with that. The thought alone is enough to disgust me. "Hey pal, anything got else you?" He mumbled stupidly. I rolled my eyes annoyed. "No, dear pal." I answered sarcastically. He frowned for a moment. I smiled to myself in pleasure as I stared at him. He was some piece of shit. Not worthy of really anything. I paced slowly around him, keeping my glance in his direction at all times. "Keith, Keith, Keith. When are you gonna grow up?" I said in a tone as if I was talking to a five year-old, which if I think about it, I kind of was. I stoped to stand exactly in front of him, with my hands on my back, looking at him with an expression of pity. He said something, but it was too fucked up to make any sense. I chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

I bent down in front of him, holding a mirror for him. "Look at yourself, Two-Bit. Do you think you are worth anyone's time or make a difference in anyone's life?" I asked much too gently. Randy chuckled and I grinned. Two-Bit leaned up and cleared his throat. "What you mean?" He said. "I care for my buds. I care for Kit." I chuckled in amusement to his naiveness. "Really?" I said. He nodded. "Yeah. I protect her." I stood up taking the mirror from him and handing it to Paul. "Like you protected her when we got her? I was able to get my hands on her, touch her, under your nose. That is not protecting. Being there or not doesn't make a difference for her at all." I said. Two-Bit seemed to be sober enough to react and understand my words. He stood up quickly, almost falling down as he did so, and went for a punch. But he was too slow to get it done, and Randy and Paul where able to hold him down in time. I snickered. "Did that hurt you, pal?" I asked looking down at him. "You know, you're not worthy, period. You're only a drunken good for nothing hood that makes life shit. You're not good for no one. Everything you do you mess it up. Come on pal, I bet you couldn't even beat me up given the chance." He frowned and I nodded to Randy to let go. Two-Bit stood up and I let his drunken ass attempt a few punches. It was easy to evade, he wasn't conscious of what he was doing. I knocked him down with two hits. When he hit the floor, I placed my foot over his chest to hold him down while I continued with my truth.

"You don't belong and you know that. Is that why you get drunk off your ass? C'mon hood, your hero is Mickey Mouse. A fucking cartoon that doesn't even exits." I held him tighter to the floor with all my weight over him. "You really think your little Curtis girlfriend wants to marry you? She ran away. She ran away when you said you loved her, not that I blame her of course. What does that mean to you? She'll never be happy with you. What can you offer her?" I pressed harder on him. "Tell me, Mathews, what's in you that's worth it? What is the difference you would make if you where to die today?" I cocked an eyebrow. I leaned in harder, looking to crack one of his ribs. "You're unable to keep a job. You're a needle-dick, weed-smoking asshole who attends high school only to party and flunk out. You can't keep your life together so you enjoy messing up everyone else's." A cracking sound came from under his chest and I smiled in pleasure. Two-Bit grimaced in pain but I ignored him, only putting more preasure. "Dude, you're not even funny." I told him with a cold tone. Two-Bit attempted to get off but I punched him in the face causing him to bleed.

I stepped away from him and snapped my fingers for Randy and Paul to lift him up. They set him up in the chair. He was trying to hide his face or something but Paul punched him harder. "Mathews, you'll never be more than a crubby JD. Don't even try to fight it. You don't know what to do with your life. Whatever. There isn't many things you can do anyway. Lonely. Yeah. You can start saying goodbye to your married life because a) early marriages always end up in divorce and b) eventually Curtis is going to find out you have no future and you're not worth her time." I said. I turned to the guys. "Do whatever you want with him. Beat him in my place. Get him drunk too. Maybe the alcohol will eventually finish him off." I said starting to walk out of the room. Before exciting I turned to look at the hood and chuckled. "Mathews, go home. You're through." If had I actually cared Mathews, I might actually feel sorry for you. Oh well, I guess some people just really have no purpose in life.

-Bob Sheldon

Just Another Heartache On This List

"Awesomeness is not something you're granted. It's something you work for." Wonder who said that? Wonder who is the person that goes through life telling people just how wonderful and beautiful and important she is. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to the most awesome person you will ever meet, KitKat Curtis. We didn't want her to have a low self-esteem for lack of a proper introuduction, now did we? Isn't that the reason for everything you say and do, Kit? I want to know, how many of you know that her heart is dying inside? You want to know the truth about KitKat Curtis? The truth behind her behaviour, attitude, and just plain stupidity? Very well then.

We caught Kit walking through the streets at night after a little party. She was slightly drunk, but then again, what's new about that? She wasn't really paying attention to anything going on around her. She seemed to have a lot on her mind. That gave this so much more pleasure that what I had intended. I walked towards her, tap her shoulder and cornered her. Her eyes widened for a second but she quickly covered it with her little heavy sense of humor. "Wait, let me guess. It is my turn now?" She laughed mockingly. So you thought this was just a game KitKat? I was flexible. You wanted a game, I would give you a game. I snapped my fingers. "Take her in, boys." I smiled evily as I watched the boys grab her and force her in. You greasers dissapoint me. You think that with a few kicks and punches you're able to get loose of such a grip. I rolled my eyes and got in the front seat. "Where the hell are we going?" She said but I didn't bother answer her. I just snapped my fingers and got Sam to cover her mouth with a tight grip. God, she annoys me. When we got to our destination, I had Sam hand me the keys and opened his parent's physicological facility. The boys knew already what to do and I enjoyed myself as they carried Curtis all the way in. Her expression caught my attention. She looked confused and I was pretty sure I knew why. Of all the places to take her, why to a psychiatrist? I closed the door behind me and walked over towards where sweet and lovely little Kitty was, chained to a chair and forced to look at me. "Well, hello there Miss Curtis. Glad to know you could make it today." I said. "You better untie me right now, Sheldon, or I-" I chuckled. "You will what? What can you possibly do to me? I got everything. You got nothing. No matter how much you physically injure me, I can always get back at you. Always. And besides, once I'm done with you there won't be much left for you to do. Now, why don't we start the session?" I said.

Kitty, Kitty, Kitty, tell me, why do you insist on playing the role on an untouchable goddess when you know just as well as I do that all you want to do is cry and fall upon your knees? Are you really that naïve? Let me tell you something, my dear greasers, just because KitKat Curtis makes you believe she has the world at her feet doesn't mean she's not feeling miserable. She's just really good at hiding it. KitKat, I know your secret, so why don't we share it with the rest of your little friends? Let's start with your family, shall we? You where the black sheep. You where never a perfect daughter. You always had to do something to go against what your parents said. Maybe not intentionally, but it was in your nature. You weren't the person they wanted you to be. Tell me, how many times did you dissapointed them? Because that's what you always will be through their eyes, a dissapointment. They always showed you that, even to the day they died. You where in pain because you knew that you where somehow responsible for their death. How so? Shall I repeat what you told your dear mother that day? Something along the words of 'I hate you'. I don't know about you Kitty, but those are really strong words. Your whole world came crushing down and it was such the hurt that you started living by reckless. Even to this day, almost two years later. It's such the desperate need for attention that your dear friend does stupid things so that people can pay attention to her. You want them to feel bad for you, don't you Kit? You want them to be on top of you, ask you how you feeling and overprotect you. But you're too worried about what they might think of you to tell them, so you cover it up with indirect statements and reckless behaviour. How nice. This egocentic attitude is just a cover. How pathetic is your life that you have to go to such lenghts to stand out? You like the fights and the arguments. You like being taken care of but everyone thinks you're so strong you don't need it. What a stupid pride.

I could see tears start to form in your eyes. "Stop it. You're lying." You said in a low voice. I smiled. "Why should I, Kit? If this was all a bunch of lies you wouldn't really care. You'd knew the truth and that would be all that would matter. Not what someone else thought." She looked down and I smiled. You make everyone think you're Dr. Phil or something. You pretty much go through your life telling people how to live theirs when you don't have the guts to follow your own advice. You want everyone else to feel better, not because you actually care but because you want someone to tell you. Hence, the lack of sufficient attention. You are not as insecure as your dear friend Angelica, she has real issues, you don't. But you feel more vulnerable than her. Kitty, you don't feel loved unless someone acknowledges you. Truth be told, that's so lame. How low can your self-esteem be? I turned around for a moment. All I could hear where silent sobs from behind me. Oh my. Was KitKat Curtis actually crying? I looked at you with interest and slight amazement. You where looking down, refusing to deal with any of it. You know, for a long time you made yourself believe that crying was lack of strength and well, you're right. You're a weak girl. The world might as well exist without you.

It didn't fool me. Those tears, the pain, you deserved it. I walked towards you and held your face, forcing you to look at me. "Tell me something, KitKat. Tell me what good thing have you done? What have you done that is worth remembering." I let go and turned around. "You can fool the world, you can fool yourself, but you can't fool me. Pretending to be something more than the white trash you really are. That's really smart, bitch." I fixed my knuckles. It was amusing to hear the girl break. Her cries where desperate, no longer trying to be held back. Weak. "Fuck you, Sheldon." She said. I turned slightly towards her. You really thought that would hurt me. Wow. You amaze me. I walked towards her and slapped her across the face. My face was expressionless. I really didn't care about her enough to deal with her abrupt behaviour. No more Mr. Nice Guy, and we where getting along so well. I picked up a mirror, held her face with my hand, and made her look. "Who's that girl? WHO'S THAT GIRL?" She tried to look away but I held her tight. Tell me KitKat, who is that girl that's staring straight back at you? Gaze at your own reflection for a moment. I'll tell you who she is. "She's a stupid foolish girl that thinks she can wear a mask and fool the world. Do you really think we're that stupid? You have such low levels of self-esteem that you manage to get your way by twisting other people's words and get compliments. You really need them. You need to make your presence known, give your opinion, feel needed to make yourself feel important. You keep things to yourself not because you don't want to share them but because you want to know who cares enough to get get them out of you. KitKat, you cut your hair, ran away, even fast yourself so that someone could dig it and save you from your own path to self-desctruction. Guess what? If they cared they would've already. Look at yourself. There's no one that is going to stop you from hurting yourself so do the rest of the world a favour and get it over with already." I placed the mirror down and walked to the door.

"What do we do with her?" Randy asked. I turned to gaze at the pathetic little creature sitting in front of me, crying her heart out. "Let her go. She's of no use to me or anybody."

-Bob Sheldon

Need A Hair Cut, Greaser?

'Need a hair cut, greaser?' You know, I have always find it particularly amusing when either of my friends uses that famous pick-up line. You really want to know why us socs like to do that so much? Hair is always and forever will be a symbol for pride to these boys. You see, getting jumped is not only based on hurting the bastard that is caught, it is based on hurting something much deeper than own physical apperance. What's the worst thing you can do to a greaser? Hurt their pride. Humilate them in front of everyone and have the rest of the world see just how 'tuff' they really aren't. So that everyone here understands, a way to break them. Does it really work? Who cares if it does or not? It still gives the jumpee the personal satisfaction of stepping over the white trash.

Do you know the Muffin Man? Cause I know the Muffin Man. In fact, we're so close, I payed him a visit the other day. It's been a long time, now has it Johnny? How much? Almost two years since our last encounter? Let me tell you, I have never had another victim so pleasently amusing to torture as yourself. You made Bob Sheldon's Top Five. Congrats, greaser. Anyway, I've had heard some rumors a while back about Cade taking several 'precautions' as to avoid getting jumped again. I didn't really give any interest to it before but now, it feels like I should see for myself if this out to be true. A fair fight isn't rough, unless you pull out blades, right? And that's what you would do, huh Johnny, pull a blade on anyone that dares touch you again?

It was so easy, almost perfectly planned, and so casual that it didn't take such to get it right. You where walking through the police station and we decided to catch up with you. A group of friends that love each other. The cops didn't feel anything was wrong and why would they? We greeted you casually, made a circle around you, even had Trace wrap an arm around your shoulder. Just. Loving. Buddies. Right? If the cops hadn't been around, would you have made a run for it? Then realize later that running would only cause for us to run behind? Possibly. But not now, because say whatever you say, to the federal law all you greasers are and forever will be a bunch of crubby JDs. You wouldn't want to cause any trouble with the police, right? Taking advantage, sure, but I'd expect all you greasers to already know that. Since you didn't run Johnnycake, we pulled up the car and got in. Was it because you where too scared of possible future events that you didn't fight back? Or was it that you wanted to wait but after we took you wherever it is you expect us to take you that you would pull out your blade and... We already know what can happens next. Either way, it was funny the way you where shaking. Especially when you saw how I wore my proud rings as if I was going to hit you again with them.

The car stopped and we got you out. You kicked and fight to se free but in the end we had you real good. I smiled. "Let him go, boys. If what he wants is a fight. A fight he'll get." They throw you against the wall of an ally. Five against one. Too unfair a number but I didn't mind. You shouldn't either. "Get your blade out." I said pulling out my eleven inch switchblade. Johnny stood there, staring at my knife and getting back. I could see in his face how frightened he was but not enough to even consider the possibility of getting into a fight. So I did what socs do best and started to provoke him. I snapped my fingers once, waiting for Trace and Sam to get the only things missing to our little gathering. "You do remember Sean, right Johnny? He used to date your little sister. That little dumb blonde." Johnny looked from me to Sean and then back to me. I smiled evilly. "Tell him, Sean, all that you told me about little Brooklyn Cade." Sean gulped for a moment, but seing as I was holding a knife, had other four guys to back me up, and there was no way to escape, he did as I say. "She's a little slut who gets into other people's business. Little and stupid and pretty much useless. She wouldn't really make a difference is she where to dissapear today. The world could still go on without her." He said. I could Johnny's face starting to boil up but we where only starting. "And just to add to that, your little sister, Johnny, could die today and no one would miss her. As for Dawn, boy, ain't she a hot mess. She probably doesn't get into your pants the way Brooklyn does, but she does know how get high and drunk so much that pretty soon she'll end up like your parents. Drunken assholes that don't contribute to society. Ain't that what the Cades are? A bunch of no good drunks. Boy, get rid of them all." I said. What I saw in your face Johnny, almost surprised me. It was hatred, right? You hated me with all your gut. I could see it. Straight in your dark scared eyes. You wanted to kill me right? Ain't that what you said you would do to whoever dared jump you again? Kill them. I wanted your best shot. "Skanky whore." Those two words was all it took to get you to burst. You took your blade out and it was a fight to dead. Believe me, I didn't have the intention to kill you. If I did, your pathetic little friends would learn how to sue me and there be this whole trial and I just didn't care enough about you to bother. But fight you, well, there is nothing like an entertaining fight to make my day.

It went on for a while. At some point Johnny, I would've sworn you didn't want to kill me either, maybe not even fight me. You where still that innocent little boy that I had met a year or so back. When it was getting boring, I decided to get real. I managed to get a hold of your blade and get it out of the way. You took a step back, getting away from that knife. I turned to look at my boys. It took one small nod. "Get him." Fight to get loose. Is that all of you greasers know how to do? Give up already. You know you're going to loose, so why hurt your pride more and just admit that we got you. I rolled my eyes at the mere thought. As if. We had you down in a second. I placed my knees on your chest while the others took care of your arms and legs. "Need a hair cut, greaser?" I asked in an over-friendly voice. I used the rings instead of the blade and matched up that scar of yours with one on your neck. A little gift from Bob. I was impressed, Johnny, you took several kicks and punches without managing a whimp but I wasn't yet done with you. I wanted to scare you. Scare you so bad you would reconsider stepping out of your room. Shall I repeat what happened next? For mere respect to the female expectator, I shall not. When we where finished, I turned around and put my blade away. The dark motionless hump was covered with blood all around and his face was buried in the ground. I could hear low sobs filling the air, but I had long stopped caring about people who cry. "Pussy." I whispered. Before stepping into the car I turned to look at the white trash. I wanted to see if he could take being beaten half to dead this time.

-Bob Sheldon

You Can't Run From Who You Are

First victim of the day, no one else than the lovely Angelica Winston. The greaser sweetheart that has a pathetic excuse for a doctor as a dad. I must say, it wasn't that hard to find where to hit and hit hard. Lovely little, shall I say the name?, Jelly, are you still over your insecurity issues?

Fat, ugly, short, useless, stupid, skanky whore. How many times have you heard this words? How many times where this adjectives used to describe you? There's no other list of words that fit you so well. Sure, your friends tell you this ain't true, but have you ever heard about a tiny white lie? How do you know that what your friends tell you is the truth? What secrets are hidden behind their eyes? How do you look to them?

It was hard to get the little Jelly alone. After all, she's always walking with one of her friends, more specifically with your bestie, the Curtis girl. Have you gone that low that you need someone to protect you? I bet she doesn't even give two shits about you. C'mon Jelly, she's pretty, you're not. Same thing goes for Dawn. They actually had to give you a make-over so you would feel a tiny bit better. Leave it to them to make things right. But we finally got you. Piece of advice hun, never go around town by yourself. You don't know how trouble may find you. He followed you quietly and slowly, and you didn't pay attention. Nothing can hurt you, now can it? I can't touch you, right? Oh but I can, and I didn't necessarily had to use my skills. Where where you going? So confident on your walk. But he tap your back and you turned around. "Hello, Angelica." Tell me Jelly, what did you see on his face? Was it pleasure or a desire for revenge? Let me tell you what I saw on your face. Hell came to ask you to pay up. You froze in place and your eyes expressed utter horror. It was almost funny, like one of those lame scary movies. What's wrong Jelly? You saw a ghost? It wasn't that hard to get Corey to agree, sweetie. And it wasn't that hard to get him to Tulsa either. Nothing that a simple plane ticket from Seatlle wouldn't solve. Oh, I almost forgot, you need money to buy a plane ticket. With you distracted, we took advantage and got a hold of you, getting you into a car, facing Corey directly in the eye. A scared little puppy finally meeting her abusive owner.

We took you home. Luckily for me and unfortunate for you, the parents weren't home, but what's new about that? I was disappointed Jelly, you didn't put much of a fight. Actually, if it hadn't been for Randy and Sam, you could have easily have passed by an unwanted puppet. The next part was quite entertaining. Sitting on a chair forced to face Corey, it made me want to videotape it. Fat, ugly, short, useless, stupid, skanky whore. Fat, ugly, short, useless, stupid, skanky whore. Fat, ugly, short, useless, stupid, skanky whore. How many times are they needed for you to get the message? For you to understand that to the rest of the world, you'll always be nothing more than that. A fat, ugly, short, useless, stupid, skanky whore. Corey kept going and going, trashing your clothes and making fun of your makeup and messing with your hair. Forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as nothing more than the white trash you really are. I like Corey. He should stay here for a few weeks, and as a token of our appreciation, let him deal with what's left of you. Cries, cries, and more cries. Haven't you learn that by crying you get nothing? There is no one here to save you. No one really cares either. I took a step towards you, staring at your torn face and shattered heart. "Angelica, you thought you had left all that behind, didn't you? You can run, but certainly not hide. No matter where you are or who you're with or even how you look, you won't be able to escape the reality of a fat, ugly, short, useless, stupid, skanky whore."

I turned around and as promised, let Corey finish what he had started. He didn't need my help with that. He could do it all by himself. I could hear the screams and cries coming down the basement door, but frankly, I didn't give a damn. I smiled at myself and close the door behind me.

-Bob Sheldon

Seven Deadly Sins

Who am I? What I do? Why? This are just one of the many questions I get asked far too many times. And they all come to one answer. I am Bob Sheldon. Probably the biggest kickass in the neighbourhood and damn proud of it. There's no particular need-to-knows except my name as a one-way ticket to the good life. Anyone who is someone has been at least once acknowledge by me.

Today there was a small cocktail party at the Valance's and just to say little, it was acceptable. I still think that Cherry could have outdone herself on the open bar and useful entertainment but oh well, she can't pull stunts half as good as she can talk them. Randy got me in on what's going on in town. More specifically, what's going on with my favourite gang of greasers. So it turns out one of those filthy greaser girls, Lilian or whatever is her name, is pregnant with a baby. Apparently my baby. Ha! As if. I wouldn't really care if she had an obortion or not. That thing doesn't deserve half of its bloodline. There's been quite a lot of cheap girls that had been willing to get laid, but god, none of them are really worth the effort. As if they where even that good in bed. At times like this I do miss Cherry. She did know how to get it right. But then, she went for that white trash with the funny name, Ponyboy. And that's how my little revenge started. No one, specially some pathetic low life, can just go around and mess with my perfect world. Because there was no point to hit that would cause him enough pain to make it worth it, I went for his older brother. Poor little Sodapop, he lost his little baby. Please. You're making me sick. Of course, if he hadn't fuck his little whore-excuse for a wife he wouldn't have to deal witht his on the first place. but oh well, some people are just good for nothing. High school dropout. And I heard the Curtis girl is back in town. What was her name? A chocolate bar? That bitch should have stayed right where she was. No one really needs another useless slut wondering around Tulsa. And besides, she came back to marry that drunk ass with no future. That'd be a marriage worth looking forward too. And then there's Elena. Please, if that slut really thinks she's worth my time she's got some serious mental issues. She's a good pack, I won't deny that but hell, she's just so easy to deal with, specially when her brother thinks he's got what it takes to win a fight. I'm telling you, this people are just so pathetic. Randy told me there was no use in wasting my time with them and he's right, but if I can make their lives any more miserable than they already are, why waste such wonderful opportunity?

Which comes down to my clever plan. Me and my boys came up with it and it's called, what else?, The Seven Deadly Sins. Each week one victim, and every victim gets a piece of what they deserve. I'm not talking just simple jumping or raping, I mean expert kickass. It's time to show the greasers how to treat their superiors. Once and for all, finish with all of them. Socs above all.

-Bob Sheldon