A/N: Argh, not happy at all with how this ficturned out. The first… half, is alright, but this didn't turn out how I wanted it to at all.I-hate-this-fic-it's-rubbish-that-literally-took-months-to-write-because-I-forgot-about-it. But at least it has decent spelling and grammar.

Disclaimer: If I owned the outsiders, would I be writing fanfics? Probably, but I don't own them, so I guess we'll never find out.

Beer beer beer beer. Where was the beer? Definitely not here. I chucked at my little rhyme as I continued to look through the fridge for some beer. What was the point, though? I was wasting precious drinking time, and I would have to buy some more some day anyways, so why waste time looking? Why not go out and buy some more? So I did.

Ah, the store. The store, the store. Should I buy it or steal it? Usually, I'd just take it, but this time was a little different, seeing as it was in a box. How do you stick a box under your coat and not get caught? It's a little obvious. Of course, I could stick it down my pants and say… Well, never mind, because I'm not sticking my beer down my pants. It just doesn't work like that. And hey, I have money this time, so why not pay? I could just walk out with it…. No, I'm buying. Why? Because I feel like it.

That decided, I took it to the cash register. Unfortunately, the lines were long. Too long. There were at least two people ahead of me. Was I supposed to actually wait for them? Couldn't I just throw garlic bread at their heads until they ran away? It could save at least three minutes of my time as I waited for them to check out. Or, I could bide my time by finding something amusing to do. But how much can you do while waiting in line to buy some beer, hoping they wouldn't find that you're fake ID is fake?

"Hey, did you know you've got this patch of hair missing, mister? I think someone may have stolen it," I told a random passerby. He merely walked faster, not giving me any amusement. Unfortunately, the store wasn't all that busy, so that was the only person I got the chance to harass before I realized that this isle had a conveyer belt.

A conveyer belt. Black, moves… somehow. How does it move? Do they have a button? Do they have a pedal that they press? How does stuff move with it? I put my hand on the end of it, attracting much attention from the person whose pie I put my hand in without realizing it. I didn't apologize but licked my fingers instead.

Finally, the time come and it was my turn to check out.

"Can I see some I.D.?" she asked, and I handed over my fake ID. She examined it for a second, and said "Hang on a second." With that, she walked off with my ID, probably to check it. That left me with the perfect opportunity…

I jumped over the part of the counter that separated the customer from the cashier. I probably wouldn't have scraped my shin had I just walked around like a normal person, but jumping was much more exciting. There were a lot of gadgets behind there, and it started to make me think that if I were to get a job I wouldn't mind being a cashier, merely so that I could fiddle with everything behind there. The store was surprisingly empty, but that didn't bother me since I wasn't supposed to be there anyways.

I pushed a lever that stuck out next to my left hand, and a light went on below the conveyer belt. What was that? I was a little curious, but I wanted to find out how the belt itself worked, so I pushed a button. The cash register opened. Was it really that easy to open one? Man, robbers have it made if all they have to do is walk in and press a button. I grabbed a handful of money and stuck it inside my jacket, then closed it. I thought it was around $20, and I was going to take more, but I had to remain on my search for the worker of the conveyer belt.

And then, I saw what I was looking for. A pedal on the ground, ideal for pressing... Well… Obviously ideal for pressing, what's the purpose of a petal if you can't press it? I pressed it and the belt started to move. I pressed harder, and was disappointed to find that it wasn't like a car, it didn't go faster the harder you pressed. So, I pressed the belt with my hand to push it along, to no avail. The belt was going as fast as it could, but it was crawling. Why would they make something that goes that slow all the time?

But… My hand smelt like peanut butter. The person who had checked out before me had had peanut butter… Maybe it would still taste like it… I've always liked peanut butter…So in a rare case of genius brain activity, I licked the conveyer belt. It really was a smart idea, at the time, or rather; it would have been if I had thought to turn the belt off. Unfortunately, I hadn't, and the spot I was licking was rather close to where it goes under. I might have noticed that, had I not been concentrating on the disgusting flavor of rubber and raw meat, not at all like peanut butter. By the time I had noticed, my tongue was eerily close to going under, so of course, I panicked. Common sense would have said to lift my head, but in times of desperation, my brain doesn't work… Not that it does in the first place. I'll make this long, painful story short: seconds before my tongue would end up destroyed; I used common sense and lifted my head. I jumped back over the counter, grabbing my beer on my way out, vowing never to buy anything the legal way again.