Disclaimer: I copy and modified a bit of the original script, even though I don't own it. I don't own Wizard of Oz. Got it? I own nothing, I'm poor. Even sold my soul to the colorguard. Speaking of which… EL CUMANCHERO, HERE I COME! WOO!
Enjoy! ^_~ Feedback is loved.
"Did ya hear dat, Jack?" Kid Blink asked Jack the instant he walked into the Lodging House. Blink looked very upset. "Dey jacked up de price! Rent's gone up nearly 6%!"
Skittery sat looking bitchy in a corner. He wasn't really, but just because he'd once had a bad day in a movie, all fanfiction authors made him behave that way. "Dis'll bust me, I'm barely makin' a livin' right now."
Boots nodded. "I'll be back sleeping on de streets," he told them.
"Shut up, Boots!" Skittery reluctantly glowered, not wanting to be bitchy. The author smacked him. He growled. She giggled.
Mush pouted. "It don't make no sense. I mean, all the money we're paying Kloppman, why would he gouge us?"
"Dey can't to dis to me, Jack!" Kid Blink exclaimed.
"Jack, we got no choice, so why don't we pay our rent while we still got some money, huh?" Mush pouted some more because it's just so cute!
"No!" Jack told them. "Nobody's goin' anywhere. Dey can't get away with dis! Jus' lemme think."
"Jack, you done thinkin' yet?" Racetrack asked him thirty seconds later. Jack hit him and went back to thinking.
Nearly five minutes later, Jack's head snapped up and a light bulb popped on over his head. He put it in his pocket to save for later, because he just didn't get enough brilliant ideas. "I've GOT IT!" He stood up. "We are going to…"
Everybody waited desperately in silence while Jack paused dramatically.
"Have a talent show."
David smacked him. Jack turned around to see who had done it, but seeing no one there, he turned back around. David rolled his eyes. "Why a talent show?"
Jack picked up David's eyes and rolled them back wincing slightly as David wiped them on his shirt and stuck them back in place. "Because de author commands it and we must obey," he told him in a tone that suggested it was perfectly obvious. Which it was.
"Duh, Davey. Where were ya when dey handed out de brains?" Racetrack smacked him.
Skittery glowered. "He thought dey said 'trains' and he missed his," he bitched.
David glared. "Fuck off."
Boots blinked. (MUSH!) "What does dat mean?"
Jack mushed… er blinked. "Shut up, Boots." Boots did. "Anyways, dis talent show… I bet Medda would let us have it in Irving Hall, and we could charge people to come and watch it."
They all gave him funny looks.
"What?! It's a good idea!"
David came and knelt so they were face to face. "Jack," he said, as if talking to a child, "You can't just rush everybody into this!"
"Oh, yes, I can and I am!" Jack declared, standing up. We WILL have dis talent show, or my name isn't Francis Edwin Sullivan!"
"*EDWIN*?" Mush giggled. "HA!"
Jack scowled. "It's not dat funny."
* * *
Irving Hall had never been decorated so tastefully. All of the fluffy things had been put up and hidden, except for what would be used as props or whatnot, and tasteful posters had been put up… okay, so they were hand-drawn pictures of stick figure newsies doing whatever it was they were doing (such as Jack's stick figure Cowboy) but it was better than the fluffiness that belonged to Medda!
Anyway, deep inside the newly decorated, would-be circus arena, the newsboys were preparing for their first ever semi-non-professional show.
"I don't WANT to do this, I'm afraid of heights!" Les squealed as he was forced onto a high dive some 50 feet into the air. "And that cup is too little! How the heck am I supposed to fit into it?!"
The other newsboys shrugged. "Very carefully," Boots supplied.
"Shut up, Boots!" Les squealed throwing a rubber chicken at him.
"Ew! Where were you keeping that?" Boots asked, afraid of the answer.
"I dunno," Les said. "It just appeared in my hand. The author puts things there when she wants me to throw them at people." A brick appeared in Les' hand and a target marking on Boots' head.
"Shutting up," Boots said, and the brick disappeared in a poof of logic.
"Can we get back to MY problem now? Thank you," Les whined.
"Well, David said, "you don't have a choice. It's the only way down and the curtain's going to go up after Jack makes his curtain speech. Good luck!" David started walking off.
"Aren't you going to watch?"
David turned to look at him. "No. If you die and all I do is watch, mom will kill me."
"So?"
"So good luck, be careful. Don't worry, we'll pick out a nice tombstone and a comfy coffin." David waved and ran away to avoid any more whining. Les wibbled. Jack stepped out onto the stage.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming and we hope ya enjoy da show. Our foist performer is Les Jacobs. He will be jumping off a 60-feet high—"
"You told me 50!" came the accusing voice from behind the curtain.
"I lied, now hush. Ahem. Ignore de boy behind de curtain," he told the audience in a vague Wizard of Oz reference. "Anyway, he'll be jumpin' into a little glass of water." With that said, Jack ran off the stage to change into his costume. The curtain came up to reveal Les. Two nameless newsies had crept up behind him. They jabbed him with a cattle prod and he jumped, somehow landing miraculously okay in the cup. Mush walked out onstage and turned the cup upside down. Les tumbled out, looking afraid. The squishi newsie forced him to bow and then dragged him off where he could properly faint into Snipeshooter's arms.
End chapter uno!
Next: Jack does his thing and the cross dressers get jiggy wit' it in ladies' underoos.