{You can change the scenario as you wish}

Dallas had somehow managed to get a beat-up truck for a good price from a distant cousin that just wanted it off her hands. She simply stated that it needed a new alternator before tossing it into his ownership. Sodapop and Steve managed to replace everything at a discount, it turned out it needed more than a new alternator.

It was running quite nicely by the end, just looked a bit ugly. He wanted to take it for a swing, so everyone hopped in; Dallas in the driver seat, Darrel in the passenger seat, and three in the back. Ponyboy sat in the left window seat, Johnny in the middle, and Sodapop in the right window seat. The other two, Two-Bit and Steve, sat in the back of the truck while enjoying the speed.

They ended up farther than expected, halfway to Oklahoma City. They stopped by a small gas station on a long road, it was dingy and had a sad vibe to it that had obviously seen better days. The gravel was worn for being driven over from many different cars, with trash scattered across it and weeds growing out of reclaimed patches of land. Dallas’ new ride’s tires made a grinding sound against it, the sound grating on the ears. He jumped out to check the wheels, while the others went to explore the place. The gas pumps were rusty, only three of them while two out of the three were missing some parts. So only one was really accessible for use that Dallas had parked in.

The station itself was made of faded, grey concrete that was starting to crack and grass was also starting to grow at the edges. On the sides was crude graffiti, though it wasn’t anything the gang hadn’t seen before in Tulsa. The roof was rusted and even warped in areas, the red plastic worn out and frail. The windows were tinted and barred, the concrete lines thick yet showed their own signs of breaking. If you squinted hard enough, you’d be able to tell one of the windows had a hole obviously from a fist. The sign that read 'Prince Poppy’s', whatever that meant, was flickering, the p’s being the ones that were mostly going out. There was only one other light shining down in front of the doors, creating creepy and uninviting shadows. Not to mention the mysterious grime that had appeared on it.

Sodapop opened one of the doors with a laugh at a joke Two-Bit said, a stark contrast to the nasty atmosphere. The shelves were manilla and plastic, the prices to the hodgepodge of items fading on the flimsy paper that had been there for years. It mostly consisted of junk food, hot beverages, and candies. The white tile floor was stained with dubious substances that hadn’t been cleaned with proper chemicals. The walls that were once a yellow daisy color now had cigarette smoke caked on it, making the color sickly. The flickering fluorescent lights overhead only added to the uncomfy emotions that it stirred up. On just about every surface there was dust and cobwebs, not kept up in the slightest. Behind the counter was a bored looking clerk, more focused on his magazine than anything else. He kept a watchful eye on the door, but didn’t make any moves to do anything else. Behind him, the cigarettes, cigars, and cheap alcohol bottles made soft noises from the air conditioning hitting them. To the side was a family bathroom and another room behind a closed heavy metal door that said 'Employees Only.'