This fic/chapter is being post as part of "Good Fic Day," an effort to raise the quality of writing here. We hope to encourage more writers to improve the quality of their own fan fiction - spell check, grammar check, keep the gang in character, outline, plot and don't use Mary Sue's. Good fan fiction requires effort, and we would like to encourage other writers to rise to the challenge of producing better fan fiction, not only for our readers, but for S.E. Hinton, who created the wonderful book we are trying to honor.

Summary- Dallas is spending some quality time with himself in his jail cell until a drunk Two-Bit decides to drop in… And everyone knows that a drunk Two-Bit is way more annoying than a sober Two-Bit. One-shot. Rewritten. NOT SLASH.

Disclaimer- The Outsiders is owned by S.E. Hinton, not me. And a huge thank you goes out to samaryley, my very awesome beta!

Dallas Winston was in jail, again. For what, he didn't know – or really care – at all. He'd done so many things since he'd last been arrested that he assumed the fuzz must have had a good reason for arresting him. Maybe it was just for being him. He'd arrest himself for being him, for sure. But then again, he was Dallas Winston. And Dallas Winston was never nice.

For once, Dally had a jail cell to himself. He'd been in jail for three days – three nice and quiet days without Two-Bit's stupid jokes. Speaking of Two-Bit, Dally swore he could hear his voice. He concluded that his head must be really messed up, because Two-Bit couldn't possibly be here…

"How the fuck is disturbing the peace a fucking crime?" Two-Bit yelled. The sounds of the cop and Two-Bit arguing came closer and closer to his cell, until eventually they were right in front of it.

"You're gonna be spending the night with Dallas Winston."

"Well, Dal! How about that! Whatcha do to land in jail this time?" Dally ignored Two-Bit's cheerful greeting.

"As for myself, well, me and Soda were doing cartwheels down the streets…you know, those handstands and stuff Darry taught the rest of us while you watched? Well, I jumped on one of the fuzz's cars, and they got mad. Darry came to the station about five and a half seconds after Soda called… Man, was he mad! My mom said she wasn't gonna come down until morning because she didn't want to deal with whatever I did this time. So, looks like we'll be spending the night together! How about that!" Two-Bit rambled on and on. Dally was already wishing it was morning.

"Shut up, Two-Bit," Dally said, but Two-Bit ignored him.

"Whatcha wanna do, Dal? We could play cards, I think I gotta pack on me…or we could…I don't know, Dal… There's nothing to do in jail. Maybe that's the whole point. Anyways, I always find ways to amuse myself," Two-Bit rambled. Dally really didn't want to hear just how Two-Bit amused himself, because everything Two-Bit did annoyed Dally and Dally did not like to be annoyed.

"Two-Bit, you're drunk, ain't ya?" Dallas asked, afraid the answer would be yes. A drunk Two-Bit is typically way more annoying than a sober Two-Bit.

"Sure am, Dal," Two-Bit grinned. Dally groaned, already dreading the headache that he knew Two-Bit was going to give him.

And Two-Bit got right to it. He began whistling. Now, there's one thing you need to know about Two-Bit's whistling. There's good whistling, bad whistling, and then there's Two-Bit's whistling. He was absolutely horrible at it, to the point where no one could even begin to recognize the tune he was attempting to whistle. If you ever want to drive Dallas Winston mad, just stick him in a room with a whistling Two-Bit. The two of them would probably end up killing each other before an hour passed.

"Two-Bit, shut the hell up!" Dally said for the second time. Two-Bit just shook his head, grinned goofily, and kept whistling as loud as he could. By now, the other inmates were becoming annoyed as well, and Two-Bit hadn't even been in jail for ten minutes.

"Hey, buddy, cut it out!"

"Yeah! Give us some peace here!"

"Can it, why don't ya?"

"Two-Bit, shut up, would ya already?" Dally snarled through gritted teeth, curling his fingers into a fist and desperately wishing he had his switchblade. Two-Bit finally seemed to get the message, and he was quiet. But not for long.

"Hey, Dal, you ever wonder why the sky is blue? Or why the grass is green? Or why it rains?" Two-Bit asked. Dally shook his head, still gritting his teeth.

"No. And if you know what's good for you, Two-Bit, you don't wanna know, either!" Dally growled.

"Of course I do, Dal! That there is some interesting stuff… you might need to know it someday!" Two-Bit said, but didn't press the matter. He knew when to draw the line… even if he did come awfully close to crossing it sometimes. Dally didn't answer Two-Bit. He was too busy wishing the fuzz hadn't taken his switchblade when they arrested him, so that he could sharpen it on Two-Bit's head.

"Anyway Dal, so, one day it was raining…." Two-Bit launched into one of his crazy stories – the kind that always made sense to Two-Bit, but rarely made sense to anyone else. Dally decided to just ignore him.

"…and, so that's how I ended up fighting off a pack of hungry wolves with just a pencil and a hardcover book!"

"You fought off a pack of wolves… with a book?" Dally asked, incredulously.

"And a pencil!" Two-Bit said, cheerfully.

"How the hell… you know what, I'm not even gonna ask. I don't think I wanna know," Dally said.

"Smart, Dal. Smart," Two-Bit said, seriously, and left it at that. "So, anyway, Dal, whatcha in for?"

"Beating up punks like you," Dally answered, sarcastically.

"No shit? Really?" Two-Bit asked. Dally nodded. "Well, who'd you jump?"

"Your mom, Two-Bit. I jumped your mom."

"Aww, shut up, Dal."

"Only if you shut up, first."

"Not gonna happen."

"Then I ain't gonna shut up, either."

"Whatever." Two-Bit yawned, laid down on his bunk, closed his eyes and fell asleep, or passed out, or died, or something. Dally didn't really care, as long as he was quiet. And he was. The inmates of the Tulsa County Prison breathed a collective sigh of relief.

And then he started snoring.