Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any person, place or thing associated
with it. I do however own Spoons, Hatch, and Dim. But you can have them
if you want.
AN: This is sort of a writers block solution story. It's not great, but it amuses me/ - - - - - - - - - -
The day started out innocent enough. Maybe too innocent. Race was walking around looking positively cherubic, meaning he had probably pulled a good one on somebody. Mush was insanely cheerful, considering how early it was. The nuns radiated disapproval at our less than pious lifestyle, as they did every morning. Jack attended his schedualed brawl with the Delancys. And I bought my papers and started selling.
It was a morning, just like every other morning.
The morning wore on, turning slowly into the afternoon. And it was an afternoon just like every other afternoon. At least it was until Blink ran into three guys from Queens. Not only were they selling papers in Manhattan without telling Jack, they were selling them in Blink's selling spot.
Luckily Mush was there to stop Blink from doing anything stupid. Or at least anything more stupid than usual. He managed to convince Blink not to soak the three until after they had a change to talk to Jack. So he marched them straight over to the small dirty bar and sat them down in front of Jack.
The three got off light, with only a warning not to do it again. Jack didn't want a war with Queens, but he didn't want them walking all over Manhattan either. The three, Spoons, Hatch, and Dim, knew they got off easy. There were good feelings all around.
But then the drinks started.
It was early evening now; Jack's diplomacy took up a great deal of time. Because everything worked out so nicely, someone had the bright idea that we should all celebrate. Someone then, I think it was Dim, had the not so bright idea to hand Crutchy a drink.
Well, I suppose it wasn't his fault. I mean it was, but he didn't now any better. After all, his name is Dim. For a good reason, I might add.
Let me just say that there is a reason Crutchy doesn't drink. For one, we don't let him, and two, he gets rather violent when he does. And Spoons had to go provoke him.
Spoons walked over to Crutchy and gave him another drink, despite the fact that there were already too many empty glasses sitting on the table beside him.
"Good selling today?" Just let me say, Spoons is the master of casual conversation.
"Eh, not to bad." Crutchy is thoroughly drunk, but he's good at hiding it. At least until he gets mad.
"The crutch help out much?" Spoons was treading on thin ice. Very, very thin ice.
"I suppose." Crutchy wasn't smiling which is a bad sign.
"It doesn't look like your faking it. How long did it take you to get that good?"
That was probably the worst thing he could have said.
Before he knew what happened, Crutchy's fist had a run in with his face. Now, that kid may be a cripple, but that doesn't mean he can't hurt people. He's just too nice to do it most of the time. But he isn't very nice when he's drunk.
That one punch snowballed into a full out bar fight. I chose to keep myself out of it, mainly so I could laugh at everyone tomorrow when they are all bruised up and I'm not.
People avoided the corner where Crutchy was sitting. He had gotten himself up on the side of the table and was hitting anyone who came in range with his crutch. Spoons had the lousy luck of being pushed into that corner after Dim punched him. Why Dim was punching his friend I have no idea.
And so, it was from that day forth that in Queens, Crutchy wasn't just known as Crutchy, but Crutchy the Mauler.
- - - - - - - - - -
AN: Ok. . .so this isn't exactly a literary masterpiece. But Crutchy deserves a story. Many thanks to Sara (who is one of the greatest people ever!) who cam up with the title. Which in turn spawned the plot. So, just think, if it hadn't been for Sara this wouldn't have been written. I'd also like to thank my DrunkenNewsie!muse, who made this all possible.
I'll stop rambling now.
These are shout outs for other stories which are one-shots. I like doing shout outs though, so I'll put them in here. : )
~Oh bury me not~
Legs: Thanks so much for the review. And about Sara. . . well. . .I guess I kinda forgot about her. That sounds really stupid, but it's true. I was writing and she just didn't come to mind. Oops. I feel dumb now.
Morning Dew: The song is Bury me not. Ah. . .folk songs, gotta love 'em.
~There's more to life than Brooklyn~
Thistle: Woot! The first review for my first slash ever. You should feel honored! Thanks muchlies for reviewing!
Funkiechick: I have three cakes! Jack always seems to turn out being a dork when I write him. . .that could be a problem. Oh well. He's funny when he's dorky. And yes, there will be a story about the part. Mwahaha. Drunken newsies are fun.
Gothic Author: Handing them over to Skitts!muse for stealing Race's hat. . .that's harsh. But they deserve it, so go right ahead. : )
Shadowlands: Spot/Race is great. You liked it!-it was my first slash. I was nervous that it wouldn't be good. . .
AN: This is sort of a writers block solution story. It's not great, but it amuses me/ - - - - - - - - - -
The day started out innocent enough. Maybe too innocent. Race was walking around looking positively cherubic, meaning he had probably pulled a good one on somebody. Mush was insanely cheerful, considering how early it was. The nuns radiated disapproval at our less than pious lifestyle, as they did every morning. Jack attended his schedualed brawl with the Delancys. And I bought my papers and started selling.
It was a morning, just like every other morning.
The morning wore on, turning slowly into the afternoon. And it was an afternoon just like every other afternoon. At least it was until Blink ran into three guys from Queens. Not only were they selling papers in Manhattan without telling Jack, they were selling them in Blink's selling spot.
Luckily Mush was there to stop Blink from doing anything stupid. Or at least anything more stupid than usual. He managed to convince Blink not to soak the three until after they had a change to talk to Jack. So he marched them straight over to the small dirty bar and sat them down in front of Jack.
The three got off light, with only a warning not to do it again. Jack didn't want a war with Queens, but he didn't want them walking all over Manhattan either. The three, Spoons, Hatch, and Dim, knew they got off easy. There were good feelings all around.
But then the drinks started.
It was early evening now; Jack's diplomacy took up a great deal of time. Because everything worked out so nicely, someone had the bright idea that we should all celebrate. Someone then, I think it was Dim, had the not so bright idea to hand Crutchy a drink.
Well, I suppose it wasn't his fault. I mean it was, but he didn't now any better. After all, his name is Dim. For a good reason, I might add.
Let me just say that there is a reason Crutchy doesn't drink. For one, we don't let him, and two, he gets rather violent when he does. And Spoons had to go provoke him.
Spoons walked over to Crutchy and gave him another drink, despite the fact that there were already too many empty glasses sitting on the table beside him.
"Good selling today?" Just let me say, Spoons is the master of casual conversation.
"Eh, not to bad." Crutchy is thoroughly drunk, but he's good at hiding it. At least until he gets mad.
"The crutch help out much?" Spoons was treading on thin ice. Very, very thin ice.
"I suppose." Crutchy wasn't smiling which is a bad sign.
"It doesn't look like your faking it. How long did it take you to get that good?"
That was probably the worst thing he could have said.
Before he knew what happened, Crutchy's fist had a run in with his face. Now, that kid may be a cripple, but that doesn't mean he can't hurt people. He's just too nice to do it most of the time. But he isn't very nice when he's drunk.
That one punch snowballed into a full out bar fight. I chose to keep myself out of it, mainly so I could laugh at everyone tomorrow when they are all bruised up and I'm not.
People avoided the corner where Crutchy was sitting. He had gotten himself up on the side of the table and was hitting anyone who came in range with his crutch. Spoons had the lousy luck of being pushed into that corner after Dim punched him. Why Dim was punching his friend I have no idea.
And so, it was from that day forth that in Queens, Crutchy wasn't just known as Crutchy, but Crutchy the Mauler.
- - - - - - - - - -
AN: Ok. . .so this isn't exactly a literary masterpiece. But Crutchy deserves a story. Many thanks to Sara (who is one of the greatest people ever!) who cam up with the title. Which in turn spawned the plot. So, just think, if it hadn't been for Sara this wouldn't have been written. I'd also like to thank my DrunkenNewsie!muse, who made this all possible.
I'll stop rambling now.
These are shout outs for other stories which are one-shots. I like doing shout outs though, so I'll put them in here. : )
~Oh bury me not~
Legs: Thanks so much for the review. And about Sara. . . well. . .I guess I kinda forgot about her. That sounds really stupid, but it's true. I was writing and she just didn't come to mind. Oops. I feel dumb now.
Morning Dew: The song is Bury me not. Ah. . .folk songs, gotta love 'em.
~There's more to life than Brooklyn~
Thistle: Woot! The first review for my first slash ever. You should feel honored! Thanks muchlies for reviewing!
Funkiechick: I have three cakes! Jack always seems to turn out being a dork when I write him. . .that could be a problem. Oh well. He's funny when he's dorky. And yes, there will be a story about the part. Mwahaha. Drunken newsies are fun.
Gothic Author: Handing them over to Skitts!muse for stealing Race's hat. . .that's harsh. But they deserve it, so go right ahead. : )
Shadowlands: Spot/Race is great. You liked it!-it was my first slash. I was nervous that it wouldn't be good. . .