dogfight : reddie

dogfight

how can you let a pack of jerks tell you this is how the world works?

"come on, st-stuh-stan, cut me some slack, will you? you ain't buh-been no picnic," bill urged stanley, the two of them in an argument in the men's room. stanley groaned and rolled his eyes. 

"slack? no, you'll find slack in the dictionary between shit and syphilis. you owe me half the pot, bill," stanley replied, pissed at bill trying to cheat him out of his money. bill threw his hands up.

"what about the cab fare? i p-paid for that!" bill argued, stan shaking his head. 

"shut up, denbrough. you come to me for help, i help--for half the fuckin' money. that was the deal. so don't be giving me some shit about a cab." stanley growled, bill gritting his teeth. 

"i'm not guh-g-giving you shit, you lousy shitbag. take your goddamn money," bill grumbled, tossing some cash on the ground. some coins jangle on the ground, stanley spitting in bill's face. bill marched out of the men's bathroom. 

"fucking jarhead, god," stanley mumbled to himself, kneeling down to pick up the money on the ground. the toilet from one of the stalls flushed, eddie pushing the door open slowly. he walks over to help stan. unsure what they had been arguing about, eddie raised an eyebrow. 

"what's wrong, stanley?" eddie asked, stan sighing angrily. 

"he comes to me, he says how'd you like to make a bundle and you don't have to fuck anybody? so, i say sure. i even offer not to wear my teeth. and why not? free cocktails, beer, and they gotta be polite. those are the rules," stanley rambled, shoving the cash in his pockets. stan stood up and crossed his arms. 

"what rules?" eddie asked, confused.

"nevermind," stanley didn't answer, not wanting to really ruin eddie's night. richie had already done enough of that already.

"no, stanley, i'd like to hear," eddie pushed stan, who considered it. he looked from eddie to the door where bill had stomped out. done playing along, stanley blinked several times before looking to eddie. 

"the rules of the dogfight. see, they each put in some money, like fifty, seventy, whatever," stanley levelled with eddie, who was still utterly confused. 

"who does?" he asked. 

"the heroes, the marine. and out of that, they rent the joint, pay for the food, and the booze. the rest is prize money, eddie. the thing that gets me is how great they think they look. ugly fuckers." stanley continued, eddie feeling a pit appear in his stomach. he was beginning to understand what stanley was talking about. 

"there's... prize money?" eddie mumbled, hesitantly. stanley looked to eddie, maybe even pitying him a little. 

"that's right, eddie. the ugliest date wins a wad of dough for the guy who brought 'em. i'm the ugliest, so i win. only, see, i'm not that ugly, really," stanley popped his retainer of teeth into his mouth, "you gotta see me when i'm really dressed up." he tutted, shoving his hands in his pockets. eddie felt tears welling in his eyes, but he blinked them away. 

"gosh, this is..." eddie said, overwhelmed, "stan, you must feel terrible." he mused, stanley clicking his tongue. 

"nah, i got some cash. all you got was vomit. here's what i say, yeah. don't let some knobby-dicked asshole get you sad and puking. boys are so full of shit, it's not worth your time. they're all just in a rush to get laid. see me, i get paid to fuck people. there's a difference," stanley ranted, eddie snickering a little. 

"they're just trying to blow a load. they feed you this candle and wine bullshit, and then they get their money and leave you behind. don't let 'im play you, eddie. you gotta be tough-skinned," stan continued, eddie noting on the fact that stanley apparently loved to monologue. stan sighed, about to leave the bathroom. eddie grabbed his arm, holding him back. 

"how... how can you let them treat you like that? that's not how the world works," eddie argued, stanley sighing at his naïveté. 

"eddie, they're gonna fuck you up. you just gotta learn to fuck them up in return. you hold your nose when you swallow dirt, dont you?" stanley turned, shrugging. 

"i... i don't swallow dirt," eddie mumbled, a little confused.

"it's... nevermind. of course you don't, eddie. my point is that you gotta learn to bite in this kind of dogfight," stanley elbowed eddie, who shook his head angrily.

"no, they're the dogs! they're-urg! god!" eddie huffed, marching out of the bathroom. stanley rolled his eyes but watched a little bit pitifully, knowing how hurt eddie was.

eddie ran up to richie, richie turning his head.

eddie slapped him, the rest of the bar turning to look at the scene.

"hey! eds," richie exclaimed, he held his cheek in shock, his nostrils flaring. bill immediately showed up behind richie, ben floating up afterwards, greta by his side.

"don't hey me, don't you dare hey me. you are a cruel, heartless ignorant jerk! who gave you the right to treat people like this? you have no feelings. you're just a worthless excuse for a human being." eddie spat, unfettered and furious. richie's jaw dropped open.

"hey that's mu-muh-my buddy you're talking to--" bill interjected, eddie turning to him.

"shut up you creep!" eddie shrieked, looking back to richie, "everything out of your mouth tonight has been just rotten, dirty lies. i hope you die, richie tozier. i hope there is a war and you get killed in it. all of you! that's what i hope."

eddie started to cry, so he turned around to leave. richie reached out for eddie sloppily, the high alcohol in his system finally hitting him. richie wrapped his fingers loosely around eddie's forearm. eddie rustled his arm out of richie's grip and stormed off.

"god, what an asshole. where'd you find him?" ben asked, richie burrowing his face into the bar counter.

"jerk!" greta suddenly exclaimed, her face changing for the first time. she threw her drink in ben's face and rushed off.

"what the fuck was th-that, rich?" bill asked, richie grumbling under his breath and swinging his arm out at bill. bill looked at him weirdly.