HAPPY BIRTHDAY PONYBOY!!!!
Spot: I always hate it when people pronounce my name as Sean instead of Sean, only because it looks like Sean but everyone always forget that you actually pronounce it as Sean.
Hotshot:
Hotshot: What?
If i had a nickle for a show or movie that i see where most of the kids that we see are either troublesome criminals or hoods. Kids that come from bad (neglectful, abusive, manipulative) parents a struggling with the situation that they are in. All of them mostly have no education with little to no money to spare. And the whole plot is mostly centered around leaving the town they grew up in, and living somewhere better. Meanwhile another group of people grew up rich and happy, constantly shoves it in other peoples faces.
Darry: So, Soda is no longer allowed to take the trash out at night.
Pony: Why?
Darry: Because I've caught him trying to train raccoons to fight five times in a row.
Soda, arms crossed and pouting: You'll be thanking me when the third raccoon battalion saves your ass.
Rip Harry Hook, you would've loved Chappell Roan.
*the gang is hanging out at the Curtis house. Pony and johnny are sitting on the couch with their own pens*
" .. -- / -... --- .-. . -.. "
" -.-- . .- .... "
" .. / .-- .- -. -. .- / -.. --- / ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --. "
" -.-- . .- .... "
" -.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .- -. - / - --- / -.. --- / ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --. ..--.. "
" -.-- . .- .... "
" -.-- --- ..- .-. / .-. . ... .--. --- -. ... . / -.-. .- -. .----. - / -... . / -.-- . .- .... --..-- / . ...- . .-. -.-- - .... .. -. --. / .. / ... .- -.-- / ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --. .-.-.- "
" -... ..- - / -.-- --- ..- / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -- . "
" .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- -.-- . .- .... "
Ponyboy: *Clicks a pen*
Johnny: *clicks his own pen in response*
Steve: They’re talking about me in Morse code!
Ponyboy: Steve, please. Why would we take hours to learn a completely outdated, complicated way of communication just to talk shit about you?
Johnny: *Clicks his pen in agreement*
Sodapop: Yeah, they definitely learned Morse code to talk smack.
Stop staring at Doechii Virgil!
Pony: There's no way he likes me back.
Johnny: Curly would throw himself in front of a moving car for you.
Pony: Curly would throw himself in front of a moving car for fun.
JoJo's nightly prayer was usually a comforting sound to Elmer. He may not be religious himself, but the soft murmur of his best friend's voice as he prayed lulled him to sleep most nights.
Not tonight, though. Tonight the sound distressed him.
Jack wasn't on the roof, even he had enough sense to sleep inside when it was cold. So Elmer slipped down from his bunk and crept over to the window, scuttling up the ladder. He wasn't allowed on the roof without one of the older boys, according to Jack, but right now Elmer didn't care what Jack did or didn't allow.
"Um... hullo, God. Or Jesus. Whichever of you are listening." He didn't kneel, or clasp his hands, but he did lift his head to stare up at the big white moon, faintly through the wispy clouds.
"I know JoJo's praying at the moment, and you should listen to him, but I hope one'a you can listen to me." He paused, trying to collect his thoughts.
"Romeo's dad came by again today. He scares me- not as much as he scares Romeo, 'course. Mush scared him off 'fore Kloppman even got to the door though. An' Sniper's dad came by yesterday. I dunno why Sniper keeps going home when he hurts him like that. That's what I wanted to ask you; why d'you let people hurt other people?"
A particularly sharp gust of wind bit at his bare arms. JoJo would probably say it was a Sign, that he was asking questions he shouldn't, but Elmer was tired of the questions building up inside him.
"Why- why did you let Mr. Wiesel an' the Delanceys and the police hurt us during the strike? Why did you let Mr. Pulitzer and Hearst raise their prices, when you must know how we live?" His voice was trembling now, increasing in volume unintentionally, "Why'd JoJo get sent on a ship here alone over a war that never even happened- n-not that I'm not happy he's here, but he doesn't know how to find his parents! Half my friends can't be with their family for one reason or 'nother, an' the other half are terrified of them! Why d'you let that happen? Why did you let my mama send me away? I don't know what I did wrong!"
Elmer was shouting now, his cheeks damp and vision blurred with tears. He didn't even realise. Someone was speaking to him, although he couldn't make out what they were saying. He felt warm, safe arms suddenly wrap around him, pulling him close against someone's chest and turning his face away from the moon.
The moon gave no answer to his questions, and neither did anyone else.
*goes on stage* "Fuck." *exits stage* -Hamlet, Shakespeare
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