A/N:Happy Saint Patrick's day!
Mounds of litter and flilth surrounded the two slovenly appearing teenage boys as they lounged lazily inbetween eroding trash cans,without a care in the world outside the big alleyway...or a penny to their number names.
"88?"The scrawny boy inquired his friend,who was searching about a dumpster across from him."Dude,what day is it?I thinkthat Ilost count."
He suddenly surfaced from the lumpy black bags with a banana pill on his head,frowning."Trash day.And if someone didn't quit buggin' meall the time I could get my dumpster divin' dance on and find us twosome eats."
"Wait,you mean you actually dance to find food in there?"
"Yeah,man.In the world of poverty you gotta shake it to make it!"
89 watched,perturbed,as the stubby black kid shook his hips while he disappeared back into the grimy,green bin.Scoffing at the fact that 88 had accepted this life so easily,he scouted around for some reading material.
There were news papers scattered everywhere,but they were to serve a far more greater use then reading.The same going for the tall trash cans.
"Hey,check this out."88 stumbled out of the dumpster and wound up bellyflopping (and/or falling) onto the hard cement floor,onhis face he held up a Help Wanted Ad."There's a pizza delivery job,read it aloud."
Cause you can'tread above1stgrade level.He took the paper from his fallen comrade."You know how our last jobs as pizza deliverers went."
(Flashback...)
"Yo,the Pizza Shack pizza is the pizza for you's and me's." 88 rapped as they approached a grey townhouse."Pizza Shack pizza is absolutely-po-"
He stopped as 89 reached up to ring the door bell and noticed that the other boy was irritably tugging his shirt tucked snuggily into his trousers.
"Would you stop already?"
"I would,89.If this stupid uniform would make me stop mastrobating!"
A lean,stern man appeared at the door."Pizza Shack boys,I presume?"
"Yes,sir!"88 grinned with a little twitch to one eye.
"Were here to deliver you your Pizza Shack pizza."89 added chippily.
He developed a suspicious look."And what kind of pizzais it?"
89 checked the order sheet."Um,pepperoni."
"I'm quite partial to pineapple myself.Why don't you go get me some?"
The door slammed shut.
(End flashback...)
"Yeah,"88 sighed,standing up and dusting himself off."To this day I still think he got mad over not getting his drink...or his SpongeRob kid toy."
"What!?It was LIMITED EDITION."
"Dude,look."he jabbed his finger at the top."This aint a regular paper."
"It's...it's..."
The two read the title together.The Magical Tribune.
"Good find."89 told him and scanned the ads.
"How about mens room attendent?"
"Pass."
"Laxby's Poultry Emporium."
"Next."
"Subday?"
"You gotta be kidding.All right,how about a babysittin' gig?"
89 laughed out loud."88,dude.Are you hearing yourself?Two kids who are only fifteen-years-old with little job experience and who's onlyparents have restraining orders against them aren't going to become babysissys!"
"Why,because were underqualified?"
"No,because we're too old and cool for babysitting jobs."
The environment of rotting food and swarming fleas suddenly registered.
"Come again?"
"You're right,we're total losers."
88 nodded."The path to healing starts with acceptance."
89 glared at him.
"Soap Opra."
"Oh."his eyes widened in discovery when he continued reading the ad."I think we may just want to consider this babysissy job after all,my friend."
It read:Will be paid four gold coins an hour.Please come by for an interview with Brachamous and Carrie Con with a full resume' in hand.You won't be considered without at least 1 recommendation.
The rest of the ad went on further with address and phone number info.
88 glanced at him."What're you thinkin'?"
"I'm thinkin' Lepercon kidnapping.The kid in exchange for a hunormous, handsome randsom of all the leprecon clan's gold."89 spoke,calculating.
"Great minds think alike."
89 rolled his eyes."If only yours was as great as mine."
"You mean great in size,fat-head."
"At least I'm taller!"
"At least I'm not related to a beaver!"
They kept walkingall while bickering and,of course,plotting.
To be continued...
