This is just a quickie one shot I'm hoping someone other than myself will
find amusing. It came to me one night while lying in bed and just will not
let go so I figured the only way to get it out of my head was to put it on
paper. I know the language here is a bit stuffy, but there's a reason for
it, you just have to wait until the ending to find out why. Standard
disclaimer applies, I don't own the newsies-boo hoo!! Anyway, I hope you
enjoy this little bit of insanity.
A special thanks to Rhys for the read-thru and positive feedback. Couldn't have done it without you!
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My name is Chester; I've been living in the lodging house for a few years now. Wanting to tell the real story of what goes on here, but never knowing quite how to do so. Finally, I've decided to go forward with my tale. I'm a little guy, people rarely see me, but I keep careful watch on all of them. Interesting things go on within the walls of a house filled with boys.
Living in one room with 25 or so newsies isn't easy. With all the things going on, it's a wonder a guy doesn't just go mad. Fighting for food, vying for attention, trying to sleep, bodily noises, practical jokes, gambling, arguing over who sleeps where, clothes thrown everywhere and don't even get me started on the smell. The shoes, the sweaty clothes, the cigars, the wet towels, the breath, and the flatulence all aid in creating a world filled with vomit inducing smells.
You wouldn't know it to look at him, but Kid Blink, the blonde guy with the eye patch, he loves sauerkraut and knackwurst. Whew, cabbage really packs a punch. Racetrack? He loves beans and milk. Everyday for lunch it's beans and milk. Mush says an apple a day will keep anyone away. He's not joking. Eggs and onions by themselves create an earth-shattering experience, but when Jacky-boy eats them together, be sure to stay low. Hot air rises, you know. Me, I eat a lot of cheese. A contest, to see who's king of well, cutting the cheese starts many an evening of fun.
One time after St. Patty's Day, Kid Blink challenged the whole house to a round of Stink 'em Out. He took the day off from selling to celebrate the patron saint of his homeland and spent the better part of it drinking beer and eating corned beef and cabbage. Clearing the whole room in two minutes flat, everyone slept in the downstairs common room that night. Grinning ear to ear he accepted his victory none too graciously. Teasing everyone he could.
Bunch of jokesters these guys. Race seems to catch the brunt of many a practical joke. Snipeshooter loves to steal and hide his cigars. Problem is he hides them in his mouth, which is a terrible hiding place if you ask me, but no one ever does. Skittery sneaks his towel off the rack, holding it above his head making him jump until Race punches him in the stomach in frustration. Mush, being the quiet sort is the one to watch out for most of all. Pie Eater waking up, finding his hand in a pail of warm water and running for the water closet will double Mushy over in laughter. Pair him with Blink and there's no stop to what that duo will do for a laugh. One time, they took Jack's suspenders, and he hasn't worn them since. After having to pull his pants up all day, he decided on a new means of keeping them from falling down. Ropes come in handy almost daily anyway; guess that joke backfired a bit. As the last one to fall asleep, I have the last laugh at night and the first laugh in the morning. My game is the shoes. Pilfering a lace or two from Mush has proved amusing over the years. But my favorite is to sneak from bunk to bunk, leaving little surprises for someone to find careful not to hit the same shoe too often. Awaking to the deafening sounds of disgust never fails to plaster a smile on my face.
Gambling is huge in the house. Betting on anything, Racetrack tries to win money from anyone naïve enough to take a chance. He's a great poker player, or so some think. That ace up his sleeve is well hidden to most of the room, but not to me. Jack once bet Davey he could hold his breath longer. Davey turned purple and passed out before declared the official winner. Swifty chased me one time; he isn't as speedy as he thinks. I beat him out the door of the bunkroom, around the bathroom twice and down the stairs. All the while Race was taking bets on who would win.
Nightly fighting over bunks is not a rare occurrence. Being new to the house causes a disadvantage to where they sleep. Itey and Snitch often have to share a bunk, heads at opposite ends of the bed causing a much unwanted foot in the face by morning. I've been here forever, no one argues with me. I just snuggle down in my bed, shut my eyes and fall into dreamland.
Fighting over food happens on a regular basis as well. Growing boys create a need for higher rations, you know. Never meant in mean fashion, the pilfering of a leftover piece of fruit is more along the lines of a joke. Kloppman left a sandwich sitting on the counter yesterday so I snuck in for a bite. When he caught me, he chased me up the stairs with a broom. Boots laughed so hard he nearly fell off the floor.
Dirty clothes piled everywhere around the room create hurtles and obstacles to navigate. If you are able to tolerate the smell, they make a decent hiding place as well. Sometimes one is created for you, or around you. Jake, not paying attention, threw a shirt over me while I sat on the floor, starting a new pile. By the time I climbed out from underneath a mountain had grown.
Now, you might be wondering who I am. As I said at the beginning, my name is Chester; I'm an orphan of sorts. I have family all over the city, but we parted ways out of necessity to survive. We used to live in that fancy house over the hill. The house filled with servants, china, lacy curtains, and expensive paintings from Europe. As only the best educators are brought in to teach the children, I sat through many a lesson. Ah, yes, the best of everything, even exterminators. My name is Chester, Chester T. Mouse.
A special thanks to Rhys for the read-thru and positive feedback. Couldn't have done it without you!
----------------------------------------------------------
My name is Chester; I've been living in the lodging house for a few years now. Wanting to tell the real story of what goes on here, but never knowing quite how to do so. Finally, I've decided to go forward with my tale. I'm a little guy, people rarely see me, but I keep careful watch on all of them. Interesting things go on within the walls of a house filled with boys.
Living in one room with 25 or so newsies isn't easy. With all the things going on, it's a wonder a guy doesn't just go mad. Fighting for food, vying for attention, trying to sleep, bodily noises, practical jokes, gambling, arguing over who sleeps where, clothes thrown everywhere and don't even get me started on the smell. The shoes, the sweaty clothes, the cigars, the wet towels, the breath, and the flatulence all aid in creating a world filled with vomit inducing smells.
You wouldn't know it to look at him, but Kid Blink, the blonde guy with the eye patch, he loves sauerkraut and knackwurst. Whew, cabbage really packs a punch. Racetrack? He loves beans and milk. Everyday for lunch it's beans and milk. Mush says an apple a day will keep anyone away. He's not joking. Eggs and onions by themselves create an earth-shattering experience, but when Jacky-boy eats them together, be sure to stay low. Hot air rises, you know. Me, I eat a lot of cheese. A contest, to see who's king of well, cutting the cheese starts many an evening of fun.
One time after St. Patty's Day, Kid Blink challenged the whole house to a round of Stink 'em Out. He took the day off from selling to celebrate the patron saint of his homeland and spent the better part of it drinking beer and eating corned beef and cabbage. Clearing the whole room in two minutes flat, everyone slept in the downstairs common room that night. Grinning ear to ear he accepted his victory none too graciously. Teasing everyone he could.
Bunch of jokesters these guys. Race seems to catch the brunt of many a practical joke. Snipeshooter loves to steal and hide his cigars. Problem is he hides them in his mouth, which is a terrible hiding place if you ask me, but no one ever does. Skittery sneaks his towel off the rack, holding it above his head making him jump until Race punches him in the stomach in frustration. Mush, being the quiet sort is the one to watch out for most of all. Pie Eater waking up, finding his hand in a pail of warm water and running for the water closet will double Mushy over in laughter. Pair him with Blink and there's no stop to what that duo will do for a laugh. One time, they took Jack's suspenders, and he hasn't worn them since. After having to pull his pants up all day, he decided on a new means of keeping them from falling down. Ropes come in handy almost daily anyway; guess that joke backfired a bit. As the last one to fall asleep, I have the last laugh at night and the first laugh in the morning. My game is the shoes. Pilfering a lace or two from Mush has proved amusing over the years. But my favorite is to sneak from bunk to bunk, leaving little surprises for someone to find careful not to hit the same shoe too often. Awaking to the deafening sounds of disgust never fails to plaster a smile on my face.
Gambling is huge in the house. Betting on anything, Racetrack tries to win money from anyone naïve enough to take a chance. He's a great poker player, or so some think. That ace up his sleeve is well hidden to most of the room, but not to me. Jack once bet Davey he could hold his breath longer. Davey turned purple and passed out before declared the official winner. Swifty chased me one time; he isn't as speedy as he thinks. I beat him out the door of the bunkroom, around the bathroom twice and down the stairs. All the while Race was taking bets on who would win.
Nightly fighting over bunks is not a rare occurrence. Being new to the house causes a disadvantage to where they sleep. Itey and Snitch often have to share a bunk, heads at opposite ends of the bed causing a much unwanted foot in the face by morning. I've been here forever, no one argues with me. I just snuggle down in my bed, shut my eyes and fall into dreamland.
Fighting over food happens on a regular basis as well. Growing boys create a need for higher rations, you know. Never meant in mean fashion, the pilfering of a leftover piece of fruit is more along the lines of a joke. Kloppman left a sandwich sitting on the counter yesterday so I snuck in for a bite. When he caught me, he chased me up the stairs with a broom. Boots laughed so hard he nearly fell off the floor.
Dirty clothes piled everywhere around the room create hurtles and obstacles to navigate. If you are able to tolerate the smell, they make a decent hiding place as well. Sometimes one is created for you, or around you. Jake, not paying attention, threw a shirt over me while I sat on the floor, starting a new pile. By the time I climbed out from underneath a mountain had grown.
Now, you might be wondering who I am. As I said at the beginning, my name is Chester; I'm an orphan of sorts. I have family all over the city, but we parted ways out of necessity to survive. We used to live in that fancy house over the hill. The house filled with servants, china, lacy curtains, and expensive paintings from Europe. As only the best educators are brought in to teach the children, I sat through many a lesson. Ah, yes, the best of everything, even exterminators. My name is Chester, Chester T. Mouse.
