A/N:
Just for fun.
Has anyone noticed the similarities between Pie Eater's costume, and that of the cartoon character, Pinocchio? I didn't, until FriskyWallabee brought it to my attention.
This ridiculous story was born from that strange and astute observation.
Crack!fic fairytale of PIEnocchio, the wooden Newsie, and Dutchy (the boy with the kind heart and an abundance of hormones.)
SLASH Humor. 1899.
DISCLAIMER:
I don't own Newsies, Pinocchio or any characters from either movie.
PIEnocchio
Chapter 1 – Fathers and Sons
Once upon a time, in the far away city of Manhattan, lived a little boy named Geppetto Kloppman.
Geppetto wasn't like other children. He never dreamed of becoming a fireman, or a cowboy, or even The President of the United States. Geppetto had an artistic soul and a wonderful imagination. His dream, for as long as he could remember, was to become a woodcarver.
While the other children laughed and played in the streets, Geppetto Kloppman sat outside of his family's tenement building and carved. The seasons changed and the years passed, and still, working to fulfill his life's dream, Geppetto sat diligently on the stoop.
One morning Geppetto's mother, Pasqualina Regina Annunciata DePompencio Chin-Lee Kloppman, and her husband, Morty, sat down to have a talk about their son.
"Today is a very sad day for our family." Morty sighed. "The cupboards are empty and the rent is due and we haven't the money to pay the landlord or the grocer. I have lost my job because I am old, and I am unable to find work elsewhere. I am truly saddened that I must break our son's heart and tell him that he must abandon his dream of becoming a woodcarver. It is time for our son, Geppetto, to go out into the world and work to support our family."
Pasqualina Kloppman turned to her husband and gently took his tired face into her loving hands. "So make the kid go out and get a job, already! He's been spungin' off'a us long enough. And why do you always sound like you're from some old-world storybook? You're from Brooklyn for shit's sake. Now, get you're keister up out'a that chair and kick that kid's lazy ass to the curb already. Tell 'im he either gets a job, or he's history!"
Sadly, Morty trudged down the stairs to find his son. There on the stoop, he found a pile of wood shavings eight and a half feet high. "I guess that the kid has been sitting around and carving for too long," he mused.
The elder Kloppman dug through the mound of wood shavings until he touched something that felt like hair and a pair of ears. He mustered all of his strength and then pulled his son from the mound.
"Hi-ya, Pops. What's shakin'?" the boy asked.
"The time has come for you to go to work, my son. The rent is due and we have no money to pay the landlord or to buy food. I have lost my job, and am too old to find another. Now, I must pass the torch to you. It is your duty to go out and help our family."
"Sorry, Pops, no can do. You can't expect me to go out and do manual labor. My hands are the instruments of my craft, and I need time to perfect my technique if I'm ever going to be a muckety-muck in the art world."
"It pains me to say this, my son, but you must give up your dream of becoming a woodcarver. Today you are a man, and a man must do what a man must do."
"What is this, my bar mitzvah?"
"No, my son. Think of this as your circumcision. Mazel tov!" Morty said as he grabbed his son by the collar and kicked him into the street. "And don't come back until you have a job!"
Sadly, Geppetto set off to find a work to help his family.
When he returned that evening, he took the stairs two at a time and burst through apartment door. Morty was both surprised and delighted to see the impressive pile of coins that Geppetto setout before him.
"Where did you get all of this money, my son?"
"Sellin' newspapers, Pops. I got myself a job sellin' papes for the New York World."
"My son, the journalist! You've made your papa very proud."
It was a fine life, as they say in the newspaper business. Geppetto worked very hard and did his duty to support his family. With his dream of becoming a woodcarver abandoned, he continued selling newspapers until he was seventy-six and was the oldest working newsboy in the city of New York. His parents were now gone, and he decided that it was time to make a change. He traded in his knickers and newsie cap (because a man of his age looked totally ridiculous in that get-up) and got himself a pair of long pants, a bowler hat, and a new job. He was now the operator and caretaker of the Duane Street Newsboy's Lodging House.
Again, it was a fine life, but Geppetto was very lonely. He never had time to find a wife and to start a family of his own. Though taking care of the newsies was a lot like being a father, it wasn't quite the same. The boys would grow older and leave the lodging house, and Kloppman would never hear from them again.
One night, as Geppetto Kloppman sat in his meager room feeling lonely and sorry for himself, he got an idea. "If I can't have a son of my own, I'll create one!"
For the next three weeks, Geppetto stayed in his room and carved. As the wood took shape, he became more and more excited about the arrival of his very own son. He sculpted each piece with loving care and expert craftsmanship and added the final touches by painting his creation a pair of sparkling brown eyes and a mass chestnut brown hair.
When his task was completed, Geppetto Kloppman spread the word throughout the lodging house that all of the newsies were to meet at his desk at 2:00 p.m. sharp. He said that he had a big surprise for everyone.
As the boys gathered around, they speculated as to what the surprise could be.
"Maybe we're gonna get some new blankets," Skittery mused. "These winter nights are getting colder each year."
"Hey! Maybe Kloppman's getting us a new woodstove for the bunkroom." Snitch beamed with excitement. "That would be even better than blankets."
The boys' excitement grew as they speculated on what their surprise would be. Finally, Geppetto emerged from his room wearing his best suit of clothing. He'd even donned a starched white collar and a striped bowtie.
"Damn, Kloppman," Racetrack called from the back of the group. "Did somebody die? You look like you're goin' to a funeral or somethin'."
"No, Racetrack, nobody died. This is a happy occasion. In fact, this is the best news ever."
"C'mon, Kloppman, spill it," Snoddy said, taking a swipe at his nose. "Tell us about the big surprise."
"Well, I have some wonderful news. We are going to have a new boy living with us here at the lodging house. But this isn't just any boy; this is someone very special. I've gathered you all here today, so you can meet my very own son."
"You have a son?" Jack asked in amazement. "Where've you been hidin' 'im all these years?"
"I never had a son before now," Geppetto replied.
"Are you saying that you've just become a father now? As in the kid is new, and you didn't have him when you were younger?"
"That's right. I now have a son to take care of me and to keep me company when I get old."
"When he gets old?" Skittery whispered. "Kloppman's already old. He's older than dirt. I bet he graduated a year before Moses. I wouldn't think that the old man could keep it up long enough to make a kid. And even if he could keep it up, who'd he find that's still young enough to have a baby and desperate enough to sleep with him?"
"That paints a disturbing picture in your mind, doesn't it?" Racetrack shuddered.
Skittery's face contorted as he imagined what Kloppman might look like in the throes of passion. "Damn. It'll take me years to get that picture out of my head. It's probably gonna give me nightmares!"
"Okay, boys," Geppetto announced. "Without further introduction, I want you all to say hi to my son, PIEnocchio." With that, he reached under the desk and pulled out a marionette who, through the skill of its creator, took a friendly bow.
You could have heard a pin drop as the boys gaped at the sight of Geppetto and the marionette.
"Jeez,' Racetrack blurted as the cigar fell from his mouth. "The old man's finally lost it."
"Quiet!" Jack whispered. "We don't wanna upset the old guy. He could go nuts and kill us all!"
"I think it's kinda cute," Dutchy said, making his way to the front of the group. "Where'd you get it, Kloppman?"
"I made him myself," Geppetto said with pride. "Say hi to Dutchy, PIEnocchio."
Dutchy chuckled when the marionette reached out its hand in a welcoming gesture. "It's good to meet you, PIEnocchio," Dutchy laughed returning the handshake. "Hey, Kloppman, can he do anything else?"
"A'course he can," Geppetto replied confidently.
"Dutchy watched intently as PIEnocchio was put through his paces. First he walked across the desk, then he danced, and then, to Dutchy's amazement (and Geppetto Kloppman's skill as a puppeteer), PIEnocchio did a positively amazing backflip.
"Wow! That was terrific!" Dutchy exclaimed. "Make him do that again!"
Geppetto beamed with pride as he moved the strings attached to his wooden son, and Dutchy applauded and laughed with delight as PIEnocchio did a backflip that was even better than the first.
"Gee, Kloppman. That was fantastic!"
"Do you really like him, Dutchy?"
"Like him? I love him! I've never seen anything like this in my life!"
"C'mon, Dutchy," Specs said, taking his friend by the arm and pulling him toward the door. "We'd better get goin' if we're gonna sell the evening edition."
"Yeah—um, okay. See ya, Kloppman. You did a great job," Dutchy called as he was dragged out the front door.
The days and weeks went by and Geppetto Kloppman grew more attached to PIEnocchio. The boys of the lodging house now avoided their father figure as though he had the plague. They were afraid of him, and embarrassed by his strange behavior. Only Dutchy remained unshaken by the sight of Geppetto and PIEnocchio both waving goodbye when the boys left for work every morning. Each night when they returned, Dutchy would sit at the front desk while Geppetto made PIEnocchio dance and do backflips.
One evening while Dutchy, Geppetto, and PIEnocchio sat at the front desk, the older newsies called a meeting in the alley alongside of the lodging house.
"We've gotta put a stop to this," Jack said. "The old man ain't gonna get any better if that dope doesn't stop encouraging him. Why don't you talk to him, Specs? You're his best friend."
"I've tried to talk to him, but it doesn't do any good. He says that Kloppman ain't doin' harm to anybody, and he thinks that we should lay off'a the old guy."
"Well, then we'll all talk to him." Jack said. "Specs, you go and bring him out here."
Specs sighed at what they were about to do and reluctantly trudged up the front stairs. "Hey, Dutch," he called from the doorway. "Can you come out here for a minute? I need to see you in private."
"Sure thing, Specs. See ya later, Kloppman," Dutchy said as he shook PIEnocchio's hand.
"Hi-ya, guys! What's up?" Dutchy asked when he saw his friends waiting in the alley.
"We wanna talk to you about the way you've been actin' towards Old Kloppman," Jack began.
"Whadda you mean, the way I've been actin' towards Kloppman? I've been treatin' him the same way as I always have."
"That's the problem," Racetrack snapped. "The old man's lost his mind and you've been encouraging him."
"Kloppman hasn't lost his mind. He's just a lonely old man, is all."
"Well, it ain't normal," Specs grumbled. "If he's lonely, why doesn't he do like everyone else does and find a real person to keep him company?"
"What the old man really needs is to go out and get himself laid," Racetrack added through a puff of smoke from his cigar.
"That's your answer for everything, isn't it, Race?" Dutchy sneered. "By the way, how is Spot these days?"
"Why you…"
"Break it up! Break it up!" Jack ordered. "Okay, Dutch. Let me lay this on the line for you. The old man is actin' crazy, and if the big shots at the Ladies and Orphans Foundation find out about it they're gonna fire him. They may even have him locked up in the lunatic asylum. If that happens, we're gonna find ourselves livin' out on the street, and the little guys are goin' back to the orphanage or to The Refuge. Do you want that to happen?"
"A'course I don't want that to happen."
"Well, then you've gotta stop encouraging him to play with that stupid doll."
"It's not a doll, Jack. It's called a marionette."
"I don't care what the hell you call it! It's strange, and I want you to stop givin' him an excuse to play with that thing!"
"C'mon, Dutch," Specs said, putting an arm around his friend's shoulder. "You know we're right."
"Maybe, but that doesn't mean that I'm happy about it."
"You really like that thing, don't you, Dutch?"
"I love it, Specs. I look forward to coming home at night and watching Kloppman make PIEnocchio dance and do backflips. It's the only entertainment we have in this crummy place. And it's good for the old guy too. He's been really happy since he made that thing."
Dutchy glanced at the front desk as the boys shuffled up the stairs to the bunkroom, but Geppetto was nowhere in sight. What they hadn't realized was that the window of Kloppman's bedroom was open to the alley, and he'd heard everything they said. Heartbroken, the old gentleman slumped down into his chair with PIEnocchio at his side. "They all think that I'm crazy," Geppetto whispered to his wooden son.
The days went bye, and Dutchy continued to keep his distance from Geppetto and PIEnocchio. He'd give the old man a quick hello or goodbye as he passed the desk, but he no longer stopped to visit. It broke Dutchy's heart to see Kloppman and PIEnocchio silently watching as the boys ran past them without a word or even a nod. Dutchy could no longer bring himself to look at PIEnocchio. He thought the marionette actually looked sad waving at him.
After a week of being ignored by Dutchy and the other boys, Geppetto became more and more depressed. Eventually, he only came out of his room when it was absolutely necessary. He would sit alone with PIEnocchio at his side and stare out the window into the darkness.
"Why can't life be like the storybooks that my mother read to me when I was a child?" Geppetto sighed, looking out at the stars shining above the city. "I wish that PIEnocchio was my real son. Then I would no longer be lonely, and the boys wouldn't think that I was a crazy old fool."
Geppetto's attention was drawn to the front room by the sound of the service bell ringing on his desk. He dragged himself from his bedroom and was taken aback by the strange young man before him. The boy was very tall and strangely handsome, and had an impish grin filled with beautiful white teeth.
"Are you Kloppman?" the boy asked.
"Yeah, that's me," Geppetto said as he shuffled to the desk.
"Are you okay? I mean, I heard what you were saying back there. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You heard me making a wish?"
"Loud and clear."
"And you want to help?"
"If I can."
"You wouldn't by any chance be the good fairy come to grant my wish, would you?"
"Hey! Who are you callin' a fairy, old man? I ain't no fairy. I'm just graceful, is all!"
"Sorry, kid. I guess that I'm just old and crazy like the boys say I am. I was foolish enough to make a wish on a star tonight, and then when you showed up…."
"Oh! You thought I was that kind of fairy. Sorry, pal, but I ain't in the fairy business. I'm just a kid who's come lookin' for a bed for the night. Although I did work as a Happy Forest Sprite for a while."
"What's a Happy Forest Sprite?"
"Well, the instructional pamphlet they gave me when I started my apprenticeship said that a Sprite is a happy and playful being with magical powers. Unfortunately, the average height for a Happy Forest Sprite is about 4'11". Seeing as I'm almost six feet tall, and the rate of pay for a Happy Forest Sprite actually sucks, I decided to give up the Sprite business to become a newsie. I still have my union card, but I haven't frolicked in the woods at night for a long time now."
Geppetto Kloppman raised an eyebrow as he examined the strange boy. "Well, whatever gets you through the night, kid. I should'a known better anyway. I'm too old to be wishin' on stars and believing in miracles."
"Well, like I said, I ain't no fairy, but I think I still nave some Happy Forest Sprite dust somewhere in my backpack." The boy dug around in his bag and came out with a handful of sparkling dust. With one very graceful movement, he sprinkled PIEnocchio with the dust.
Geppetto and the tall stranger stood watching PIEnocchio for some sign of life, but there was nothing.
"Sorry, mister. I didn't think that it would work, but it was worth a shot. So how about that bunk? You got any room for me?"
"Sure, kid, sign here. Just go to the top of the stairs and take any bunk that's empty. And thanks for tryin'."
"No problem," the boy replied. "And cheep up. Things are bound to get better. They always do."
End Chapter 1
Thanks for reading. Your reviews will be greatly appreciated.