Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the plot. The characters are from
Newsies, and so they belong to Disney. The plot is from 'A Christmas
Carol". So I own nothing. like always, lol.
Author's Note: I changed the plot a little. It's still the three ghosts coming and all, but what they ghosts show is different than in the book, though pretty much along the same lines. well, you'll see as you read.
____________________________________________________
Joseph Pulitzer sat down in his office. For some reason, he thought of his father, the one who had gotten him into the newspaper field. If it hadn't been for him, Pulitzer wouldn't be where he was today. He shook his head, thinking about him, for he had been dead for seven years. Seven years! That was a long time.
However, he was interrupted. Seitz, a man who worked for him, walked into the room. "Mr. Pulitzer."
"What is it, Seitz?" Pulitzer asked.
"Well, it's just that tomorrow is Christmas." Seitz began.
"Let me guess? You don't want to work." Pulitzer said.
"Yes. After all, I do have a family." Seitz said.
"And you expect me to still pay you?" Pulitzer asked. "After everything we went through this summer to gain all that money, you expect me to pay you when you don't work!"
"Well, it IS Christmas." Seitz said.
"Fine! Go off, and have a nice day. But I expect you here the day after, ready to work. And no more days off!" Pulitzer cried.
"Thank you." Seitz said, and walked back out. He shook his head at Jonathan, a younger man who also worked for Pulitzer. "He said we could have the day off, and we'll still get paid."
"He's changed, hasn't he?" Jonathan asked. "Since the strike."
"He has. He got too money hungry. When the newsies won the strike, he lowered the price again, but once the other papers stopped covering the strike, and the government stopped watching him, he raised it again, and threatened the poor boys. Now he seems to hate Christmas. He told me yesterday it was a waste of money."
"Are you leaving now, then?" Jonathan asked.
"In a moment." Seitz said.
"I'll leave with you. I don't want to stay here with him by myself." Jonathan said, and he started packing up, as did Seitz.
At that time, someone came into their room. "Merry Christmas!" she cried.
"Merry Christmas!" Seitz said back to Pulitzer's niece, for that is who she was. She was only a little girl, about 12.
"Is my uncle still here?" She asked.
"Yes, in the back room." Seitz said.
"Then that's where I'm headed." She said, and walked through into Pulitzer's room.
"Merry Christmas, Uncle Joseph!" She said.
"Merry Christmas? What's so merry about it?" Pulitzer asked.
"Oh, Uncle! It's such a wonderful time of year!" She cried.
"What are you doing here, Michelle?" Pulitzer asked.
"To invite you to dinner! My mother told me to come and ask. You have always come, and it's been fun." She said.
"I won't make it this year." Pulitzer said.
"Why not? What are you doing?" Michelle asked, disappointed.
"Nothing." Pulitzer said.
"Then come!" Michelle said.
"I can't. Now go back home and tell my sister I'm sorry, but I can't make it." Pulitzer said.
"Alright, Uncle, but you'll be sorry!" Michelle cried out. "And a Merry Christmas!"
She ran out and all the way home, laughing in the snow. Nothing could make her unhappy on Christmas Eve.
Seitz and Jonathan were also leaving, and they followed her down the stairs, though at a slower pace. They separated at the bottom, both going different ways, with a Merry Christmas.
Pulitzer, too, was leaving. He picked up his case and his jacket and walked to the top of the stairs. He was just in time to hear his workers exchange Merry Christmases, and he frowned, mumbling, "What's so merry about them?"
He walked through the snow in a bad mood, and up the walk to his house. He fished his key out of his pocket, and dropped it into the snow. Mumbling about cold weather, he bent to pick it up, but he couldn't find it. The snow made it dark, so he scrunched up his eyes and looked through his glasses to try and find the key. He stopped, though, because he felt like someone was staring at him. He looked toward the sidewalk, but didn't see anyone. He looked at his door, and jumped back. There on his door was the face of his father. He stared at it, and after a minute, it went away. He blinked, and decided that he had imagined it. He bent down, found his key, unlocked his door, and walked in and up to his bedroom. There, he ate a dinner, and was just settling in his chair by the fire, ready to read, when he was disrupted by a noise that sounded like chains clinking together.
He looked up, but his back was turned away from the door. "Who's there?" he asked. No one answered. "I asked, who's there?" Yet again, no one answered. He stood up and turned around. What he saw made him jump back and almost set the bottom of his robes on fire.
It was, unmistakably, the body of his father. "But that's impossible!" He thought aloud.
"You think so, son?" the Ghost asked.
"You're dead." Pulitzer said simply.
"I am. But it's a horrible fate I have. I'm chained to all the sins I've ever made, and doomed to walk the Earth for all of time." His father said. "I was sent to help you, so you will not come to the same fate as I. You will be visited by three spirits, who shall come at One o'clock, sharp. Be ready for them, Joseph."
Pulitzer was too shocked to say anything, and, in truth, too scared. At the mention of spirits visiting him, he ran to his bed and closed the curtains around him, thinking him safe. He peeked out and saw the ghost of his father fly through the window. At that time, Pulitzer realized he had been holding his breath, and he let it out.
"Bah!" He said. "Humbug! Spirits!"
He laid down and pulled he blankets to his chin, being sure not to kick the curtains aside. ________________________________
I know bah humbug is totally not mine, but whenever I think of 'A Christmas Carol', I think of that, so I HAD to add it. Hehe. Anyway, I hoped you liked this chapter. I'll come out with the next soon, because I hope to finish it in time for Christmas. REVIEW!! And an almost Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays!! (Or both!!) Love ya!!!
Author's Note: I changed the plot a little. It's still the three ghosts coming and all, but what they ghosts show is different than in the book, though pretty much along the same lines. well, you'll see as you read.
____________________________________________________
Joseph Pulitzer sat down in his office. For some reason, he thought of his father, the one who had gotten him into the newspaper field. If it hadn't been for him, Pulitzer wouldn't be where he was today. He shook his head, thinking about him, for he had been dead for seven years. Seven years! That was a long time.
However, he was interrupted. Seitz, a man who worked for him, walked into the room. "Mr. Pulitzer."
"What is it, Seitz?" Pulitzer asked.
"Well, it's just that tomorrow is Christmas." Seitz began.
"Let me guess? You don't want to work." Pulitzer said.
"Yes. After all, I do have a family." Seitz said.
"And you expect me to still pay you?" Pulitzer asked. "After everything we went through this summer to gain all that money, you expect me to pay you when you don't work!"
"Well, it IS Christmas." Seitz said.
"Fine! Go off, and have a nice day. But I expect you here the day after, ready to work. And no more days off!" Pulitzer cried.
"Thank you." Seitz said, and walked back out. He shook his head at Jonathan, a younger man who also worked for Pulitzer. "He said we could have the day off, and we'll still get paid."
"He's changed, hasn't he?" Jonathan asked. "Since the strike."
"He has. He got too money hungry. When the newsies won the strike, he lowered the price again, but once the other papers stopped covering the strike, and the government stopped watching him, he raised it again, and threatened the poor boys. Now he seems to hate Christmas. He told me yesterday it was a waste of money."
"Are you leaving now, then?" Jonathan asked.
"In a moment." Seitz said.
"I'll leave with you. I don't want to stay here with him by myself." Jonathan said, and he started packing up, as did Seitz.
At that time, someone came into their room. "Merry Christmas!" she cried.
"Merry Christmas!" Seitz said back to Pulitzer's niece, for that is who she was. She was only a little girl, about 12.
"Is my uncle still here?" She asked.
"Yes, in the back room." Seitz said.
"Then that's where I'm headed." She said, and walked through into Pulitzer's room.
"Merry Christmas, Uncle Joseph!" She said.
"Merry Christmas? What's so merry about it?" Pulitzer asked.
"Oh, Uncle! It's such a wonderful time of year!" She cried.
"What are you doing here, Michelle?" Pulitzer asked.
"To invite you to dinner! My mother told me to come and ask. You have always come, and it's been fun." She said.
"I won't make it this year." Pulitzer said.
"Why not? What are you doing?" Michelle asked, disappointed.
"Nothing." Pulitzer said.
"Then come!" Michelle said.
"I can't. Now go back home and tell my sister I'm sorry, but I can't make it." Pulitzer said.
"Alright, Uncle, but you'll be sorry!" Michelle cried out. "And a Merry Christmas!"
She ran out and all the way home, laughing in the snow. Nothing could make her unhappy on Christmas Eve.
Seitz and Jonathan were also leaving, and they followed her down the stairs, though at a slower pace. They separated at the bottom, both going different ways, with a Merry Christmas.
Pulitzer, too, was leaving. He picked up his case and his jacket and walked to the top of the stairs. He was just in time to hear his workers exchange Merry Christmases, and he frowned, mumbling, "What's so merry about them?"
He walked through the snow in a bad mood, and up the walk to his house. He fished his key out of his pocket, and dropped it into the snow. Mumbling about cold weather, he bent to pick it up, but he couldn't find it. The snow made it dark, so he scrunched up his eyes and looked through his glasses to try and find the key. He stopped, though, because he felt like someone was staring at him. He looked toward the sidewalk, but didn't see anyone. He looked at his door, and jumped back. There on his door was the face of his father. He stared at it, and after a minute, it went away. He blinked, and decided that he had imagined it. He bent down, found his key, unlocked his door, and walked in and up to his bedroom. There, he ate a dinner, and was just settling in his chair by the fire, ready to read, when he was disrupted by a noise that sounded like chains clinking together.
He looked up, but his back was turned away from the door. "Who's there?" he asked. No one answered. "I asked, who's there?" Yet again, no one answered. He stood up and turned around. What he saw made him jump back and almost set the bottom of his robes on fire.
It was, unmistakably, the body of his father. "But that's impossible!" He thought aloud.
"You think so, son?" the Ghost asked.
"You're dead." Pulitzer said simply.
"I am. But it's a horrible fate I have. I'm chained to all the sins I've ever made, and doomed to walk the Earth for all of time." His father said. "I was sent to help you, so you will not come to the same fate as I. You will be visited by three spirits, who shall come at One o'clock, sharp. Be ready for them, Joseph."
Pulitzer was too shocked to say anything, and, in truth, too scared. At the mention of spirits visiting him, he ran to his bed and closed the curtains around him, thinking him safe. He peeked out and saw the ghost of his father fly through the window. At that time, Pulitzer realized he had been holding his breath, and he let it out.
"Bah!" He said. "Humbug! Spirits!"
He laid down and pulled he blankets to his chin, being sure not to kick the curtains aside. ________________________________
I know bah humbug is totally not mine, but whenever I think of 'A Christmas Carol', I think of that, so I HAD to add it. Hehe. Anyway, I hoped you liked this chapter. I'll come out with the next soon, because I hope to finish it in time for Christmas. REVIEW!! And an almost Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays!! (Or both!!) Love ya!!!