Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies or career aptitude test. Plus, I am not suggesting that certain professions are better than others, I just stereotype according to what each newsie would be suited for.

Another thing I wrote during my long away period. This and one other are my comedies. This one is short because it has really no story line, but hopefully it is good for a laugh. Please read and review. Esp. the 'review'!

If the Newsies Took a Career Aptitude Test…

"I am handing you all back your career aptitude tests which, if you recall, you took almost three weeks ago. Please take these tests seriously, I would not be here today, had not my own test suggested such," Mr Denton strode down the aisles, handing out the slits of paper.

As always, Jack had something to say. "But sir, I've changed a lot since three weeks ago! Think about how much I'll change by the time I actually have a career!"

"What exactly has changed about you Jack? You seem the same dull boy to me," said Mr Denton in response.

Jack shrugged and answered casually. "I got my hair cut."

Mr Denton ignored Jack's shenanigans and handed out the remainder of the tests.

Kid Blink leaned over to Mush. "What does it say you have?" he asked in a whisper.

"Let's see…it says," Mush's eyes grew wider as he read. "Garbage man, comic book store owner, guy who asks 'do you want fries with that?' at McDonalds."

"Really?" Kid Blink couldn't believe his ears. "Lemme see that!"

Mush handed over the test and Blink read it over. "It says here, right above those jobs, in bold, that these are the jobs that you should try to avoid. Your end comments also say 'Try to pick a job that shows off your obvious good looks, in which you can boss people around instead of doing the real work. Don't get your hands dirty unless absolutely necessary. Dirt under the fingernails never looks good'."

"Oh, that makes sense. What should I be then?" Mush asked, full of curiosity.

"A bank manager, a salesman or a movie taxi cab driver," read Blink aloud.

"Bank manager?" Mush looked sceptical. "I'm not even good at math."

Kid Blink thought about this for a moment and realized the solution was simple. "You don't have to be. As the comment says, just gat someone else to do it."

Mush, now very pleased with his suggested future, asked Kid Blink considerably what his job would be.

"It says here a pirate, a group leader in the War Amps, or a recreation of the witch in Big Fish."

"Um…" Mush's brow furrowed, wrinkling his beautiful face. "Why? What do they all have in common?"

"I guess I'd have to wear an eye patch for all of them," said Blink. "It also says not to be an eye doctor."

"Oh."

"Too bad, that was my lifelong dream!"

Mush took Kid Blink to be joking, which, of course, he wasn't.

Across the room David and Racetrack were swapping tests because they weren't pleased with their careers. The career aptitude results concluded that David be a casino poker dealer and that Racetrack be an accountant.

Not only did David not know how to play poker, he had wanted to be an accountant all his life. As for Racetrack, he was the kind of guy who beat up the math kids, never being one himself.

"I like this," David smiled. "We get to choose our own futures! Manifest our own destinies!"

Racetrack scrunched up his nose. "Ew. David, what does 'manifest' mean? It sounds dirty."

"Mr Denton!" Specs raised his hand. "It says here I should be a stand-up comedian or a clown. I hate to be funny as well as funny people, and clowns scare me. Can I get a different test?"

Dutchy raised his hand as well. "Yeah, I don't want to be a scuba diver. I'm aquaphobic."

"I want to be a mountain biker, not a real estate agent!" called Skittery.

"And who wants to be a terminate exterminator? Besides, things that crawl give me the creeps," complained Crutchy.

Mr Denton cleared his throat calmly. "I'm sorry boys, that's just the way it is. You can't choose your own fate; if you could I'd be a millionaire instead of teaching you rotten kids. I hate kids. And people for that matter."

Dejectedly, David and Racetrack switched their tests back.

The boys protested louder. Hearing the commotion and learning the reason for it, Jack scrunched his test and threw it in the recycling.

"What'd you get Jack?" Boots asked.

"Uh…I don't remember. Something stupid," Jack lied, shrugging.

"They're all bad. I don't want to be a divorce lawyer, conflict gives me stomachaches. I could murder whoever makes these stupid tests." He wasn't the only one in the room.

In the bottom of the recycling bin, Jack's career aptitude test read, below 'Suggested Career', Marker of career aptitude teste.

Let no one ever learn his secret.

End

There you have it. Another entry into my 'away' file. I hope you enjoyed it! Please review!