#agh!!!

Hell, last month he'd come home to three traffic signs mounted around his living room. He'd promptly forced Soda, Steve, Two, 'n Dallas to return them to wherever the hell they had taken 'em from. They had bitched 'til kingdom come until Darry had threatened to load them up into the truck with those forsaken signs 'n call the damn cops on them himself. Of course, he hadn't meant it. They'd trudged out with one sign between the four of them swearin' they'd come back for the others too. And, naturally, they got caught.

Soda had used his one phone call to beg Darry to pick them up, Steve to whine about how they'd only gotten caught 'cause Darry had made them put them back, 'n Two to make a long series of jokes that ended with Darry threatenin' to leave him there for the night. Dallas had apparently elected to call Tim to bitch instead. 'N Tim had called him. Glory, he should have just left them there forever.

Since both groups were firmly blamin' the opposite party for the events of that night, Darry had elected to save himself the damn headache 'n just let them leave the two signs they hadn't managed to return on their walls. The odd street sign would still sometimes show up, but as long as they weren't important ones Darry simply pretended they weren't there.

So when he trudged into the house 'n glanced at the peelin' wallpaper, he wasn't necessarily surprised to see the new addition. He toes off his boots 'n hangs his keys on the knife buried so deep in the wall none of them can get it out. Darry makes an absentminded mental note to ask one of the men on his crew about it. Pony knew his son 'n he's sure he'd seen worse.

He turns to take a look at whatever was simmerin' on the stove when he catches his name on the piece of paper haphazardly drawn out into a chart 'n pinned to the wall.

In descendin' order the chart reads angelic, good enough, toein' the line, in the shit, Darry's gonna kick your ass, capital F fucked.

"Hey y'all, what the hell is this?" Pony looks up from the kitchen table where him 'n Soda are scratchin' away at old clothes pins. Pony's holdin' a pen knife clenched in his fist, stabbin' away far too close to his fingers for comfort. Darry reaches over 'n adjusts his grip, whackin' him gently on the head.

Steve ducks into the kitchen, brandishin' his own clothespin. He shoots Darry a grin 'n clips it to the chart at angelic. Darry can see his name carved into the side. "Provin' a point is what it is."

"Knock that shit down to fucked- you're pissin' me off." Pony scowls, goes back to his project, lookin' at Darry pointedly as he moves his fingers away.

"Ok. Well. Anyone wanna explain the point to me or am I gonna have to figure it out myself?" Darry sighs, glances into the living room where Two-Bit has been conspicuously silent. He's standin' on the couch, tongue between his teeth 'n brow furrowed as he frantically screws a yield sign into the wall, not noticin' Darry at all. "Two-Bit Matthews!" Two's head whips up at him with a big grin, droppin' the screwdriver 'n leanin' against the wall to block his handiwork like Darry hadn't just watched him for a full ten seconds.

"Darry! What are you doin' here?" Darry rolls his eyes 'n Soda snickers from somewhere behind him.

"Oh fuck, Soda, casserole." Soda scrambles up from the table so fast his chair falls backward. Darry shakes his head 'n sighs.

"Two I live here."

"So... come here often?" Both Pony 'n Steve snicker 'n then glare at each other like it was a cardinal sin that they both find the same joke funny.

"I'm gonna close my eyes 'n if that damn sign is gone by the time I open them I won't kick your ass." Darry drops his head against the door frame 'n shuts his eyes 'n Two mutters fuck 'n dives for the screwdriver. "Now would be an excellent time to explain that shit on my wall, by the way, Pone." Darry prompts, eyes still shut. Glory, he could fall asleep right there in the doorway.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck." Soda opens the oven 'n the distinctive smell of burnin' food pours into the kitchen. Darry raises an eyebrow 'n turns half around.

"Hey, don't open your eyes yet I'm workin' on it!" Two shrieks 'n Darry manages to roll his eyes with them still closed.

"Lordy, fine. Soda, lil' buddy? All good?" There's half a second of silence 'n then Soda snorts a laugh.

"Anyone want Dairy Queen for dinner?" Darry lets out an almighty sigh 'n Soda makes a disappointed sound in the back of his throat.

"Well, worth a shot. PB 'n J guys?" Pony groans 'n Darry can hear the thunk as he drops his head hard onto the table.

"Pone, this shit on my wall?"

"Oh. Steve thinks he's less of an asshole than I am. 'N I think he's a liar. So we're provin' it-"

"Nuh-uh. The kid thinks he's better behaved 'n I think that's horseshit. So we're doin' a chart to prove that he's the one always actin' like a hooligan-"

"Who are you callin' hoologian? Don't you have your own house? Why don't you stop loiterin'-"

"You're just mad Soda actually picked my ass 'n got stuck with you-"

"Glory God almighty. This shit's like, what? A behavior chart? What level is pissin' me off 'cause you're both there right now."

"Darrr-"

"Aw, man c'mon. We didn't mean it." Darry stops noddin' off standin' up to glance over his shoulder at Pony 'n Steve. Their fightin' damn near forgotten they're both starin' at Darry with twin pouts. Darry actually snorts a laugh before he swallows it down, muffles it with a cough.

He fixes them both with a glare 'n jerks a thumb at the chart. "C'mon. Both of you down to, uh," He peeks over his shoulder at the rankin', "in shit. I'm sick of you fightin'." He really doesn't know what he expects but he can tell you what he doesn't. 'N that's for both Steve 'n Pony to glower at each other but shuffle sadly over to the wall to fix their clips 'n then plop back down at the table 'n actually knock it off.

"C'mon, if I have to get knocked down for just ribbin' the kid then Two better get knocked down for that sign shit." Two lets out an indignant gasp 'n clutches a hand to his chest, finally reappearin' in the kitchen with the sign held behind his back.

"What sign?" Darry narrows his eyes at him in contemplation, rockin' his jaw back 'n forth like he always does when he's thinkin'.

"Yeah, alright. You're below Steve 'n Pony." Two's jaw drops open 'n he lets out an indignant wail.

"Woah, woah, woah! C'mon I'll patch the hole I put in the wall." Darry opens his mouth 'n Two barrels on. "In fact I'll even patch the holes from the last one too." Two wheedles, droppin' the sign behind his leg, foldin' his hands together 'n blinkin' up at Darry.

"Fine. You can be on Steve 'n Pony's." Two hoots 'n snatches one of the unmarked pins, scratchin' his name into it 'n slidin' it over Pony's.

"Hey!"

"That's not fair!"

Darry rolls his eyes. "Well, I didn't hear any offers from you two." Two grins smugly at them, Steve flips him off 'n Pony sticks out his tongue.

Soda snatches up his, suddenly very interested in the proceedin's. "Where am I, Dar?" Darry studies him, finger pressed to his lips.

"You can be in toein'. All you did was burn dinner, that's in your nature I should have known better." Darry ruffles his hair when Soda lets out a little scoff. He flounces past Darry, stickin' his tongue out at Steve 'n puttin' his clip the highest of all of them with great flourish.

"Hey Dar, why don't we get somethin' if we don't get bad marks for the week?" Pony sticks his bottom lip out a lil' 'n Darry rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I'll tell you what you get. Your ass not kicked."

"Aw, c'mon Dar. What if when we stay good we get Dairy Queen?" Darry leans against the door frame. Studies his kid brothers gathered in the kitchen as they all blink back at him 'n suddenly remember somethin' they all have in common.

"How about this, if you all stay in the black you get Dairy Queen at the end of the week." Two 'n Soda let out a whoops 'n Pony 'n Steve grin. Darry puts up a hand to indicate he ain't finished yet. "'N the lowest one has to pay."

A fierce urge to win. Especially against each other.

They all stop, eye each other with sharp-toothed grins 'n mischievous smirks.