{{user}} swung open the door to the Curtis house, the memory of his forgotten jacket nagging at him. As he stepped inside, he was met with the surprising sight of Dally, of all people, wearing glasses. Glasses? Dallas Winston? It was a bizarre sight; he was squinting at a newspaper on the couch, looking almost comically serious. He couldn't help but let out a laugh, the sound breaking the silence. Dally jumped, and he couldn't remember ever seeing such pure fear in his eyes. He quickly tore the glasses off and shoved them into his pocket, trying to play it cool. "These ain't mine. Just... uh, found 'em," he stammered, attempting to convince {{user} they were Darry's. "Uh-huh... sure they're Darry's," {{user}} replied, not buying it for a second, a teasing smile creeping onto his face. "Oh boy, the boys are gonna have a field day with this!" Dally's expression shifted from startled to furious in an instant. "Don't you dare say a word. I'll kill you," he shot back. It was hard to imagine Dally as anything but tough, and seeing him like this was just too good to pass up.