Keith Moon's POV

"Hand me the safety pin you stupid git!" I squeal to John Entwistle.

The tall boy holds the instrument of my plan in his hand and says, "Keith! No! I'm not going to help you with this!" He continues throwing it up in the air, taunting me as he goes.

"Dammit, you are just going to be an ass about this, aren't you?" I throw my arms out the car window and get the pin from him. "Now John, you know what to do."

"Yes, Keith," he groans, "I guess I just have to do this." He runs along to the other side of the car, and then begins to fiddle with the ignition, just like I had taught him to.

"How painful it must be for you, John, to have to steal this absolutely lovely Rolls Royce," I say. Poor John, he tries so hard to make himself seem like a nice boy, but I know quite well that he is a naughty boy at heart, kind of like me. Well, no one is quite as naughty as I am.

"Okay Keith," John calls out to me, "Put the pin in the ignition right now!" At which point, I do exactly as John commands me to do. The engine roars to life, I shake my head in appreciation of the sound.

"Well, come on, now, Johnny Boy!" I call out to him. John runs along into the passenger side, and I roll the car out of the driveway quite carefully. "Now, come on, baby, show daddy what you can do!" At which point, I put the pedal to the metal and let the vehicle tear down the street.

"Keith, what the hell are you doing?" John cries, holding onto the sides of his seat. Finally, I let the car hit an abrupt stop at the end of the driveway, and John starts to cry, "I'm going to die! Oh, I'm to young to die!"

"What is it, John?" I coo, "You can't handle a little joy ride on the way to Patti's house?"

"Wait!" he screams, "You? Going to the dance with Patti Smith? How?"

"Well," I say, "I'm going to the dance with Patti, what's the big deal?"

"I mean, Keith," he says, "It's just she's a little tough, yes, but she's so deep and mysterious and cool and pretty and classy, and, well, she's just not your type!"

I laugh an say, "Sounds to me like you have a little crush, John!"

"I do not have a crush on her," he snaps, "I'm just thinking, how drunk did you have to get her to agree to going to the dance with you?!"

"She was completely sober, I think, when I asked her," I respond quite proudly. I continue tearing down the street at seventy miles per hour, ignoring John's worried cries for help. The poor kid, he really does need to lighten up and live a little. Finally, we get to Patti's house, but my break isn't working! "Prepare for impact!" I scream. We crash right into the garage, running into a car in there. Fortunately, John, I, and our suits are all in fair condition.

"What the hell!" Patti screams, coming out of the front door in her pretty black dress. "What are you doing in a Rolls? In my garage?"

"Funny you should ask that-," I start.

"Keith stole a car and then joy rode it right into your garage!" John interrupts.

I hear the sound of a cop car coming though, and I say, "Patti, I hope you have fun with Joan, Chrissie, and the whole gang at the dance, by me and Entwistle here have got to split!"

I take John by the arm and we both dart out of the car onto Patti's yard, and then we attempt to out run the police.

Patti Smith's POV

"Young lady?" an officer calls. "Have you seen the two young fellows who are responsible for stealing this here Rolls Royce?"

I question whether or not I should turn them in. Oh, why not? They are the ones responsible for ruining my night! "Um, I think I saw them run to the backyard. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a dance to get to."

"Thank you very much," he says, running after the two douche bags that were supposed to escort me.

Soon enough, Joan Jett and her date come along. "Hey, Patti!" she says. She is dressed in a really cool pant suit sort of outfit, and Sting in a rather handsome gray suit.

"Hey, guys!" I reply. "Where's Chrissie?"

"Oh, Chrissie Hynde? Yeah, her date was running late the last I heard," Joan seems to have to think hard about exactly what happened.

"Who is her date?" I ask with much curiosity.

"Oh, Brian, you know, the artsy one who I always doodling in his notebooks and crap," Joan says with a fiery tongue.

"What's Chrissie doing with him?" I ask, rather confused now.

"I don't know," Joan says, "They just talked once at lunch or something and then they just got together."

Sting pipes in, "Actually, he's probably going to take her into his little group of pretentious friends, so let's just go."

Joan snaps, "Seriously, Sting! You can't accuse someone else of being pretentious, that's the kettle calling the pot black!" Joan rolls her eyes and just says, "Actually, let's just go."

"Ugh, fine," I groan. I start down the walkway, and we all head to the dance. Great, my night is already off to a fabulous start, brilliant.