10 reasons why I don't own Newsies

Mush does not remain shirtless through the whole movie.

Sarah is not dead.

Crutchy is caught and sent to the Refuge, not rehab for coke addicts

Jack does not get to Santa Fe and stay there

There is no slash

Medda is not dead.

Spot doesn't have more lines

There aren't as many pelvic thrusts as there should be

Or ceiling fan swings

Or songs, Goddammit!

AN: I know this is a far cry from what I usually write, and that it's crap, but I found it amusing. So will you. Hopefully. Maybe. Posssibly.

"Hey Mush, hey Mush, hey Mush," Trey "Kid Blink" Ballatt jumped up and down, nearly ramming into his friend's arm. "Hey Mush, Hey Mush, Hey Mush, Hey—"

"WHAT?" Mush asked, distracted. He had been listening to his ipod, and his speakers were turned all the way up. It was very hard to listen to friends when you've got Fergie blasting in your ears.

"They're posting choir positions today!" said Blink, bouncing around.

"Heh," said Spot, sitting beside Mush on the bleachers, "Positions…"

But Blink was too excited to be warred by Spot's pervertedness. Besides, he was used to it. "C'mon, c'mon, today's the day!" he sang out. "Shall we be baritones, or altos, or tenors?"

"Or god forbid, a soprano?" added Spot wickedly.

"Eh?" said Racetrack, looking up. "That show freakin' sucked, man. Jesus, all the stereotyping was drivin' me nuts---I swear, next time that dude was so blandly Italian I was going to kick his ASS!! HIS ASS, I TELL YOU!! HIS SPAGETTI LOVING-TOMATO SAUCE-TONY SOPRANO-MAFIA-ASS!"

This last part, as you can summarize, was quite loud. So loud, in fact, that it was shouting loud. And so, of course, lots of people began staring at Racetrack's tomato-red (there I go, stereo-typing again) face.

"Er," Mush said, taking his headphones off. "Yeah, Blink. Let's go."

And so, the two made their way across the gym to the choir room.

"How come your nano is bright pink?" Blink inquired, raising his eyebrow(s) in confusion. He hadn't noticed it before now.

Mush turned a peculiar shade of red. "My aunt is sort of gender confused," he said. "She's rich, so..."

But Blink's short-term attention (what was with him today?) had been diverted somewhere else. "I betcha I'll be a baritone," He beamed. "Baritones are for manly-men! And I am a manly-men, so I shall be a baritone! Ha! A manly-man is I!"

"Blink," Mush said carefully. "You're in choir."

"Your point?"

Mush blinked. (heh) "Are you okay? Usually I'm the one skipping down hallways and singing random songs, not you!"

"Maybe you're on crack," Blink suggested innocently. He was indeed dong exactly as Mush had described.

"I think maybe YOU'RE on crack," said Mush, watching Blink prance down the rows of lockers.

"No, you are!"

"No, YOU!"

"YOU!"

"YOU!"

"YOU!"

"YOU!"

"See how angry you're getting?" Blink asked, as Mush's face heated up.

"Yeah," said Mush. "So?"

"IT'S THE CRACK!"

"…"

"…"

"Oh, look," Blink pointed at a sign indicating that they were currently near the choir and band room. "We're here!"

Blink gulped, staring at the list on the door. It couldn't possibly be true---no! His vision must be dead! He must be going blind! He needed glasses!

This last thought (the glasses) basically killed Blink's integrity, of course. Because how stupid would he look with glasses and an eye patch?

"I must be seeing things," Blink choked out. "This can't be right! I'm a FREAKING baritone!! Not a stupid, sissy tenor! Tenors are practically women!"

"No, I think you're wrong, Kid," said Mush comfortingly. " 'Cause I'm a baritone, and I'm probably as close to a women as a manly-man can get."

Blink sniffed a bit overdramatically. "But…I'M A FREAKING GODDAMN BARITONE!! I CAN SING LOW, SEE? SEE? SEE?"

Blink then proceeded to sing in various low pitches, each going down an octave. On the last pitch, however, his voice cracked.

Mush did too. Cracked up, I mean.

"Hey! Don't laugh at a man going through puberty!" Blink snapped. Mush continued to double up in laughter.

As Mush continued to giggle hysterically, Kid Blink complained under his breath. "Y'know," he mumbled. "It's bad enough that I gotta falsetto what I can't sing. And now she's jacked me up to TENOR! Can you believe that?"

Mush didn't respond.

"I'm a freaking baritone, man," Blink continued. "I'm so manly it hurts. I mean, I like baseball and SUV's and lesbian porn and nascar—"

"Wait. You like nascar?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Blink, all they ever do is make left turns!"

Blink considered this. "But…it's exciting left turns. And sometimes, they CRASH!"

Mush straightened up, wiping his face with one hand. "Yeah, well, whatever. We'd better get back before first bell, so we don't get tardy…c'mon, let's go."

"…but…I want to talk to Enderle about the placement. All we have on tenors is me, that weird Jake kid, and Bumlets, who can't sing. We'll suck ass!"

"Don't worry about it, you'll do great," Mush reassured. "Anyway, the baritones with our manly-man stuff will drown you out."

"…."

"…."

"Shut up, Mush."

"Yeah, you know what? I'll just let you get back to ranting. You gotta let it out, gotta let it out of your system so you can find your calm. Kinda like mucus when you got a cold. Let it out!"

"Okay," said Blink. And so, he went back to complaining.

They had been there for five minutes, and Blink still hadn't winded down. He was ranting, going louder and louder and louder until he was practically shouting down the halls. Mush knew, at that very second, that they were going to be tardy. And he couldn't do a thing about it.

Sometimes he really hated Blink.

"I'm a FREAKING BARITONE, GODDAMIT!" hollered the eye-patched-for-fun kid. "Stupid Mrs.…Oh, hi, Mrs.…Enderle, how are you today?"

"Hello, Trey," a short, bespectacled woman greeted, raising an eyebrow. "I'm fine. And you?"

"Oh, just peachy," said Blink.

Behind him, Mush mumbled a very, very, bad word under his breath. Blink didn't ever think he knew words like that.

"Something you wanted to ask me about?" Mrs. Enderle said sweetly, opening the band room door with her keys.

"Uh…. yeah. How come I'm not a baritone this year? My voice dropped!"

Mrs. Enderle shrugged. "Well, you're really good at harmony, and I needed someone. Your voice carries out quite well, like Aaron's, over the girls."

Mush could have sworn that she said "F-cking sopranos," --but he couldn't be sure.

"So," Blink surmised, "Are you saying I'm special?"

"….if that's the way you feel about it, sure, Blink. You're special." Mrs. Enderle said

Blink preformed his namesake. "I'm... special…" he stared at his hands, looking bemused. "Special…. my god, I have…talent!"

The ball rang.

Mush sighed; they were surely going to be tardy now.

"I have talent!" Blink cried again, as freshmen girls and boys hurried to their next class. "I'm talented!"

As one particularly tiny freshman rushed by, he grabbed her shoulders and rocked her back and forth, oblivious to the girl's terror. "I'm a tenor, and I love it!" he yelled, spittle flying everywhere. "Sing with me, o girl who I don't know! La la la la la la la!"

"Let…. me…. go!" the girl squealed, hitting him with her science book. Blink dropped her, and she scuttled off, still red in the face from nearly suffocating.

"Ow," he said, touching his cheek. "That hurt. But I'm still special!"

"Yeah, Blink, you're special," Mush told him, grabbing his on-drugs friend by the forearm and leading him away.

"See ya Mrs. Enderle!" Blink called quite cheerfully to his teacher. "Thanks for putting me as a tenor!"

"Sure, sure,' Mrs. Enderle waved back. "Anytime!"

As Blink turned around, Mush could have sworn he heard Mrs. Enderle mutter "Sucker" under her breath.

But maybe that was just him.

Or…was it?

A/N: This is the dumbest thing I ever wrote. Damn plot bunnies. XD

In case you were wondering, this kind of affects my own life (except not). Because last year I was an alto in choir, and now I am a soprano and have a solo (with Logie, fellow writer) that hits REALLY high. Like stratosphere high. Yay for us!

::dances::

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