That's What Makes a Boy A Man
-samuraiduck27

A/N: We're performing Seussical the Musical this year at my high school, and one of our directors set us a task- to make a stable character interpretation for our part. "Improves performance," he says. In my opinion, Jojo/the Boy is just an over-imaginative, misunderstood kid. He doesn't want to go to war, or argue with his parents, or be suspended from school. He just wants to be a kid who is accepted by his peers and have a friend.

While reading through the script for the bazillionth time, I realized that there was a time-skip between the songs "The Military" and "Alone in the Universe" that was begging to be filled. So here's young Jojo's story, during his first week and a day at General Schmitz's military academy.

Also, I really really wish that ff dot net had an 'introspective/analysis' category. Because I do a lot of those types of stories, it seems.

DISCLAIMER: SD27 doesn't own Seussical the Musical, but she does play Jojo for the next two months. :)

"The Military Academy is the place where he should be sent!
We'll drill the silliness from his head,
(I'm sure we'll leave a dent.)
We'll teach him fighting and left-and-righting
Until he's muscled and tan!
A hut-two-three (he's pathetic…)
A hut-two-three (unathletic!)
A-HUT-TWO-THREE (But I'm betting we caaaaan…)
The Military, that's what makes a boy a man!"

Day One:

"Please Mom and Dad, please don't make me go!"

"Now Jojo, son, all three of us know—"

"Don't be soft with him, dear. There's no other way. He needs to learn to keep his Thinks at bay!"

"But… but…don't you see? It wasn't me!"

I pleaded with my parents, who were looking at General Schmitz's cadets with awe. I didn't want to go to the military academy; I had done nothing wrong! It was that stupid Cat who caused all the trouble, but… they just wouldn't believe me.

"Attention!"

Together the cadets snapped at attention and began their marching once more. The General looked at me, then at my parents. A brief nod was all that Dad sent his way, but it was enough for me to understand what was going on.

They were serious.

They were going to send me away!

"I do not like Green Eggs and Ham."

My parents came up to me, grabbing me by the shoulders and lightly shoving me in line behind that horrid Cat, who was posing as a cadet. He winked at me, and I felt my stomach drop.

"I do not like Green Eggs and Ham!"

The General led the cadets in a march out the door and back onto the road. There was no bus around, which made me wonder if they had marched all the way from the academy.

"Sound off!"

"Eggs and Ham."

I yelled for my parents, but they just looked at me sadly before turning away and shutting the door. The General came up behind me, and yanked me by the arm, returning me to the line, this time in front of that awful Cat. We marched off into the distance, my mind filled with thoughts of green eggs, ham, Sam I Am while the Cat behind me laughed.

And so it was that I, Jojo, the Mayor's son, became a cadet enrolled in General Genghis Khan Schmitz's military academy.

Day Two:

I quickly discovered that sleeping in a bunk where the windows didn't shut and my blanket couldn't even be called threadbare was uncomfortable and cold.

Heh, "sit and shiver and eat raw liver," eh, General? Well, we've got the sit and shiver part down.

At maybe seven in the morning or so, I really couldn't tell at that point in time, a loud blare echoed through the camp, signaling that breakfast had begun in the mess tent. Then I remembered that one of the cadets had told me that last night when he showed me to my bunk. The one at oh-five-hundred woke us up, and the oh-seven-hundred hours one started breakfast.

I quickly got up, abandoning the small amount of heat trapped within the rag called a blanket and got dressed in the camouflage outfit I had been assigned. "Mayor" was stitched on a patch on the left side of my chest, and "Butter Side Up" on the right. …Kinda really lame, actually.

Oh, how I wanted to go home at that moment…

My legs still ached from the trek back to the camp the day before, and as I stumbled into the mess tent, I wasn't prepared for the harsh kick to the back of my knees, sending me sprawling to the floor. Hearty laughing broke out around me, and a hand grabbed me by the back of my jacket.

"Well, look who we have here. Such a sorry sight. I wonder if the poor little newbie's all right?"

I looked up to see a boy maybe three or four years older than me, a mocking grin on his pudgy face. I scanned his outfit to find the name "O'Dooley" where his name tag was.

O'Dooley…

Wait, he couldn't be… could he?

"So you, you're Private Mayor? You caused my mom to have a nervous conniption! A chance to teach ya a lesson, oh that's rare!"

Oh no…

The same cadet from the night before had to break apart O'Dooley and I. Apparently, I was not off to a good start as a new soldier to the academy. My nose felt swollen and my arms ached from where two other cadets had pinned them behind my back.

"If I were you, I would have ran and hid. You sure know how to pick losing battles, eh, Kid?" he chuckled, leading me toward the breakfast lines.

His tag told me that his name was Kitt, and the patch on his lapel I later learned to mean that he was a Corporal. He seemed nice enough, maybe I'd make a friend here after all!

The cadet behind the counter handed us each a tray, and we went down the line to the servers, "I'll take order number two," Kitt said, "And Mayor here'll have the General's special; he's new."

A spoonful of less-than-appetizing looking green eggs was thrown onto Kitt's plate, while I was shoved a bowl of something jelly-like and purple.

"Uhmm…"

Kitt looked at me, "It's just raw liver." He laughed at the look on my face, "Don't worry. After throwing up a few dozen times or so, you'll get used to it and your stomach won't quiver. It's hard, but everyone goes through this, you know."

All I really could say was, "Oh."

"You might want to hurry and go grab a seat, because otherwise you won't have time to eat. The Privates' drill training starts in a few, and I wouldn't be late if I were you."

Drill training first consisted of warm-ups of push-ups, crunches, lunges, and running ten laps around the compound. I barely made it through the first half-hour.

Maybe General Schmitz had a point saying I was unathletic…

But I sure wasn't pathetic, nor a twit! And I wasn't going to give up, wasn't going to let him get the best of me.

"Mayor! Pick up the pace! Come on, son, this last lap's a race!"

Groaning, I pressed my already sore muscles on, passing our instructor for the training, who just so happened to be the Cat. I glared my best at him, but he shrugged it off easily, egging me on. Did he get some sick enjoyment out of seeing me suffer?!

I promised that I'd never Think again if I could just get that stupid Cat away from me….

Day Five:

The next few days passed he same as my first and second. Each morning I woke up well before the horn blasted the camp awake due to the cold air passing through my room. I was bunked by myself, being the only 'newbie' who hadn't conformed to the General's plan by that time. And it didn't help matters much that Christmas was only a month away, I felt like I was getting the flu.

At the mess tent, I received my first daily beating by O'Dooley and his two cronies who I had never really learned the names of. Kitt dragged me out once or twice during that time, and then there was breakfast.

Raw liver, again. Morning, noon, and night until I "ran with the General's plan" as Kitt put it.

I had stopped throwing up though; I barely registered the slimy sensation and the gurgle of my stomach as it protested against the undercooked meat.

Drill training was ran by the General that day, which relieved me to no end. I'd rather have the pompous jerk than that stupid Cat any day. I could get through warm-ups and only be really tired by this point, and the drills were coming along good for me.

"Nice hustle, Mayor. You're turning out to be a decent soldier after all," was what he told me when we were dismissed.

Against my wishes, I felt both proud and sickened…

I didn't want to be a decent soldier. I didn't want to fight. I was just a kid for Who's sake! I didn't want to leave my family to get pushed around. I just wanted to go home.

Apparently, Kitt didn't share my attitude towards the academy. Then again, he had actually volunteered to come to this horrible place! I wondered what in Who (as Dad liked to say) had gotten into his head.

He was sick of my whining, he told me, after dinner that night. Why couldn't I just conform, give up my Thinks, be the soldier I had the potential to be? The two of us argued... At the end though, it was hard to tell who had bested the other. He had a split lip and black eye. While I also had the afore-mentioned plus a few scrapes here and there, I had also lost my only friend.

Day Seven:

That night, after dinner, there was a mail call. Everyone got really excited; apparently mail was only given out once a week.

"Private Mayor!" the Lieutenant handing out the mail yelled.

"Sir!" I stood up and took the single letter out of his hand, intending to read it when I returned to my bunk.

As I returned to my seat, my own personal bully decided that he leg needed to be stuck out even further than it already was. So focused on the letter in my hand, I didn't see it until the ground was rushing up to meet me like it had been doing a lot lately.

"Oops…"

I had had enough. Sick of the taunting, and the pushing, and being laughed at, and being beat up, I just snapped. Yanking myself up, I punched the guy in the nose, feeling satisfied when I heard a crack come from between my fingers.

"I'm sick of the bullying, sick of the jeers! It seems as if though you've hated me for years! I'm sorry about your mom, I don't know what else to say. Just stop harassing me, O'Dooley! Or else… or else you'll pay!"

I sounded a lot more braver than I felt once my actions had sunk in. The mess tent was quiet, almost unnaturally so. Everyone's eyes were on us, waiting for our next move. I could see tears of pain forming in my adversary's eyes, and I felt a twinge of regret… that had to really have hurt. Sighing, I backed off and stuck out a hand in a sign of truce.

"A truce between us, from now on. Will it do?"

He removed his hand from his face, now dripping with blood from his nose, "Why you…"

Then all of a sudden the scene just… froze. O'Dooley was fixed in his spot as he began a charge towards me, everyone was still in various poses of anticipation or eating or whatever they had been doing. Only one other person than I was able to move.

"Well, I had to say, I wasn't expecting that!"

I frowned up at him, "And I bet you got a real kick out of it. Didn't you, Cat?"

He broke out into a peal of laughter, the whiskers on his face twitching as he did so. "Indeed I did, Kid. Now what'dya say. Let's hit your bunk and call it a day."

Now I was suspicious… "You're helping me get out of this fight? But I thought that you—"

"Come on now, Jojo… do you really wanna get beat up tonight?"

I felt grudgingly grateful to the Cat after that. I probably would have gotten my butt kicked all the way back to Whoville if he hadn't froze time.

We got to my bunk, and the Cat whistled at its bareness. I hadn't been able to take along any personal effects, and everything I owned was given to me by the academy. I sat down on the bed and pulled out the letter from my parents. The Cat stood behind me, leaning over the cold steel headboard.

"So your parents wrote you something, hmm?" he said before snatching it, "Lemme see!"

"Hey, give that back!" I protested.

"I'll only be a second with it… maybe two or three," smirked the Cat, holding it out of reach.

But the letter blew out of his hands with a sharp gust of wind. It flew straight out the window on the other side of the room, and out into the camp. I sat there, in slight shock of what had just happened.

"Errr… well, that was unexpected!"

I muttered, "Get out."

He blinked at me, peering around the side of the bed, "What'd you say?"

I jumped off of the bed, furious as I had been in the mess tent, "You heard me! Get out! Haven't you caused me enough dismay? You caused my parents to get rid of me, ruin my lessons, sent me to this… Hell! And you just won't leave me alone, no matter how much I yell! I hate you! Get out, just please… go away…"

For a moment, I thought he looked… sad.

"All right, Kid. I'll leave as you say… but just remember," and here he looked at me just before vanishing slowly out of sight, "Without me here, you might as well just be alone in the universe. G'night."

And he was gone. The room felt unnaturally still after his departure, and I felt guilty for being so mean to him. Because, after all, he really did have a point. Here, at this camp, I had no friends, no family, just a group of bullies and their fights I could set my watch by and a General who was obsessive over which side of bread Whos put their butter on.

I guess, that I was alone in the universe. But you know what? At that moment, I don't think it really phased me much. I think I had known it all along… my Thinks making me so different, and never really having any friends because of them.

I accepted that fact. My Thinks were always going to cause me trouble, and I couldn't help it. It wasn't something I could control. I was going to be trouble, and my Thinks were going to make people freak out, have conniptions, make me a person who would always "have an opinion" and "color outside the lines." And I was probably going to be ridiculed and thought of as weird because of it.

I kinda felt… like a grown-up, too, by accepting that; by knowing that my individuality was something to be treasured, but at the same time, would cause me to make a lot of enemies and lose a lot of friends.

Maybe the Military really does make a boy a man.

…Because I don't think I would have ever realized any of this without being sent there in the first place.

"(A hut-two-three!) When they suffer...
(A hut-two-three!) Boys get tougher.
And they'll soon see nothing's easier than…
The Military, that's what makes a boy… a man."