Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies!
A/N: Thanks to Keza, Ravy, Sita and Lute for editing or just reading it over for me. Woo.
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September 7th, 1961. Vietnam.
"We were standing in the camp, caught unawares, when a group of Vietkong ambushed us from the trees..."
Private Mark 'Specs' Simon took a drag of his cigarrette and leaned back, looking at the clear night sky. On the other side of the small fire sat Liutenant Frances Sullivan- 'Jack' to anyone who wanted to stay on his good side.
Jack looked at Specs and laughed, the fire casting shadows over his face. "Looking at the stars again, Specsie?"
"Your mom." Specs growled, blowing out smoke. Jack laughed.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Liutenent Dean "Snoddy" Baxter sighed. "Bumlets, will you hurry up?"
Bumlets walked out from behind the trees, where the latrine was. "I'm done, I'm done."
"It's a latrine, not a spa." Snoddy grumbled as he began to take a step.
Loud noises erupted from the woods several meters to their left, and before they knew it gunfire come from the trees in cracks of thunder and bursts of light.
September 7th, 1961. Seattle, Wa.
"People call us scum, hoods. And when we're killed because of this hospitable environment we're surrounded with it's 'crackle jack-o! Down goes the teenaged hoodlum'...
"Pie Eater. Quit acting so cheery, or else I'll kill ya." John 'Spot' Conlon muttered from where he stood, casually leaning against the brick wall. His eyes focused in on a shaplely blonde crossing the street, and he called out some suggestive remarks, causing her to blush and walk away quickly. Ever proud of himself, he laughed at his genius and turned back to his tall, dark-haired friend.
Sean McSullivan, better known as Pie Eater, cocked an eyebrow. "That was polite."
Spot laughed harshly. "Yeah, well my momma didn't raise me polite. Hell, she didn't even raise me. She- hey! Blink!" he cut off his own common spiel when he caught caught sight of the blond, one-eyed hoodlum stalking towards them.
"'Ey." Louis Ballet- or Kid Blink- muttered, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets and leaning against the wall.
Pie Eater checked his watch, then looked at the setting sun. " Race's late...we're gonna miss the movie."
Spot shrugged. "Let's go, then."
Pie Eater watched as Spot and Blink started walking towards the drive-in. "What about Race?"
"Screw him!" Spot called back. Pie shrugged and ran to catch up with them.
September 7th, 1961. Seattle, Wa.
Itey blinked as the colors raced around him, screaming and laughing.
Red screams the loudest...
He was stuck. The colors were screaming at him... laughing at him... jeering at him.
Green laughs the hardest...
He had to get out...he was stuck... the colors laugh...laughed...laughed... he had to get out...
"Christ, look at the kid!" Swifty laughed, and pulled Itey away from the window, where the kid was attempting to throw himself out.
Dutchy laughed, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. "Bad trip?" he asked the Asian boy lazily.
The young Italian in Swifty's arms began screaming, and he pulled himself out of the arms wrapped around him, and raced out of the room.
Swifty cocked an eyebrow. "I guess so."
They shrugged and sat back on the couch, Dutchy nursing his alcohol and Swifty smoking his joint.
Yellow is the meanest.