AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hi all. Just pop in some Tori Amos, and prepare yourself for the slowest "Newsies" fan fiction ever. If you have no Tori Amos, may I suggest listening to some really weird music that sounds deep, but has almost no meaning to it at all.
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It's A Food Thing
By Loops
This story is about... a pie... the pie that I loved is... gone...
There was a girl... a very strange, enchanted girl. They say she gave a bomb to a bunch of newsboys... and that is so not cool...
Hudson made her way to "Tibby's", which was the usual. She walked through the back door and grabbed an apron from a rack on the wall on her way in, as usual. "Anybody wanna work for me?" This was also the usual response to the gosh-awful smell that smacked you in the face when you approached the kitchen.
"No," everyone said, as usual.
It's not that "Tibby's" was a bad place to work. The people were great, the food was great, everything was... great. It was just the idea of working in a place like "Tibby's" that got to its workers.
Hudson left the kitchen with a note pad in hand and walked out to where the customers sat. "Table 4," someone exclaimed, stating which table hadn't been served.
Hudson found the table and sighed. "Punk kids," she mumbled as she approached a round table, surrounded by 6, tightly-packed-together news boys. She cleared her throat, "There are others tables to sit at."
All the boys picked their heads up to look at their waitress. "We like sittin' together so we can talk," Racetrack stated with a snort.
"Jacky-boy needs our protection, ya know," Spot pointed out, leaving Hudson confused.
"Right," she said, deciding to not comment on this, "So what do you guys want?" Everyone jabbered on at once, and they came out with 2 Coke's, 1 hamburger, and 2 fries. How that was to be distributed between 6 hungry boys, who knew.
Hudson went off to do her duty, but was stopped on the way by a troublemaker who constantly harassed the "Tibby's" staff – Oscar Delancey. "Hey, honey." He puckered his lips. "Can I get a big, juicy one for an appetizer?"
"Sit down, ass hole." Hudson pushed past the small boy and started working on the orders she was given. "That dick never gives up. He needs to get a life."
"Watch the language." Tibby patted Hudson on the back. "He won't be young forever, and you know, maybe he'll grow up and you'll fall in love with him." He winked and laughed at his job as went about his work, which was pretending to work, but really just watching over everyone and making sure they weren't causing too much trouble.
"Yeah, maybe," Hudson moaned. After 10-20 minutes of fixing what she needed, without getting in anyone's way, she headed out to the table with everything all at once, to avoid Oscar one extra time with drinks first.
Alas, Oscar was still there. "Hey baby, I been waitin' for ya."
Hudson rolled her eyes and went to the table. As she finished passing out the last of the food and drinks, a hard slap came across her bottom. Without a moment's thought, she picked up 1 of the Coke's, turned around, and threw the Coke in... Tibby's face – that is, after Oscar ducked, of course.
Tibby closed his eyes and the Coke seeped in and stuck to his hair and clothes. "Hudson. Explanation!"
Oscar walked across the room, chuckling along the way. "Sir, it... Oscar!" Hudson darted for the evil boy, but Tibby stopped her.
"Uh-uh-uh." Tibby grabbed Hudson's arm. "Let him go."
Oscar chortled his way out the front door, and Tibby parted for the back of the restaurant again. "Now get these boys the Coke you wasted," Tibby told Hudson, without a hint of anger.
Hudson scowled, and then mumbled, "Sorry." She went to the back and quickly poured another glass. "Here." She gave the guys their drink, which was a little late since they had already eaten everything.
"Eh," Jack told Hudson, "if you want us to... we can soak 'em when we get outta here."
Hudson waved her hand in the air. "No, whatever, I don't care." She thought about the proposal again, and was quite a bit confused. "Only out of curiosity... why the offer?"
"Well, you got in trouble for him. We don't like Oscar much, anyways. Excuses are good for the bulls. You know, we can say he was harassin' you." Jack pushed himself away from the table in his chair and stretched. "We'll soak him anyway." He rambled on more about how much it didn't mean and that it wasn't for Hudson's sake. "We don't like him - honest. You know, he's an ass hole to every body. Bein' that I'm the Manhattan leader and all..."
"Isn't Joseph Pulitzer sort of a leader?" Hudson inquired, raising an eyebrow.
Jack cleared his throat and stumbled around some more on his words. "Ya know, ya... ya know what I mean..."
"Leader for the newsies, you mean?" Hudson corrected Jack.
Racetrack wanted to pull Jack away from his mumbling and stumbling, so he answered for Jack, "Yeah. We only a few here though, ya know." He motioned to the boys sitting there with him.
Hudson nodded. "I figured." She took the receipt from her apron and sat it on the table. "Nice meeting some hard-workin' kids. Hope you all have a nice day."
"Kids?" Race boomed. "Do I look like a kid?"
Jack rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Race. Shuddup, let's go." Everyone stood up.
"Wait," Hudson began.
Jack rolled his eyes again. "Look, Race has this thing; it's nothin', really..."
"Sh, sit down," Hudson said.
Jack sat down again, and the other 5 did the same.
Hudson thought for a minute. "Eh, never mind."
Jack got back up again, and the 5 again did the same.
"Actually..."
Sit.
"Well..."
Stand.
"I guess I could ask a favor."
They all sat again. "Spit it out," Racetrack groaned.
"I've got a... pie... I need to deliver to a Mister John Grant. He's a soldier, ya know," she explained.
"In what war?"
"That one war - the big one." Hudson cleared her throat. "Now," she began, "I'd deliver it myself, but I really never have the time. I'll pay you a few chingy-chings." She raised an eyebrow and rubbed her thumb and pointer finger together.
"You mean, cha-ching?" Racetrack asked.
Hudson shook her head. "Chingy-chings."
"Like, what?" he wondered.
Jack hit Race on the back of the head. "Quit bein' a dumbass, dumbass."
"Well put." Hudson patted Jack on the back. "Anyway, will you do it?"
"For you," Jack swooned, "for free."
Hudson turned all smiles. "Wow, that'd be great! I love you!"
Jack winked, and then grabbed Race. "Ya hear that?" he asked, "I got a new buddy."
"Give me all of your names first," Hudson stated, "for future reference." She took a pad and pen from her apron.
"Jack."
"Spot."
"Race."
"Blink."
"Crapface."
"Stoned Bear."
Hudson glanced up. "Crapface and Stoned Bear?"
Crapface raised his eyebrows. "Hey, I don't take crap from nobody, so let those crap jokes be gone." He spoke very quickly and with a rough voice.
Hudson shook her head and looked around. "Well, I need to get back to work. Stop by after you deliver that... pie... eh?"
They all looked at each other, and then replied with, "Okay."
She walked to the back of the restaurant and came back seconds later with a small box, but one a little bigger than your normal pie box. "Don't open it, don't smell it, don't rattle it, and don't ruin it. Do and die." She glared, she smiled, said "Thanks!", and walked away, putting the box gently on the table.
"Whoa." Jack got down on his knees and gingerly picked the box up by pushing it off of the table and into the palm of his hand.
Hudson jumped back out again, startling Jack and almost causing him to drop the box. "One more thing!" she yelled. Her voice lowered, "Guard it with your life. Let no one see you. Hide in the shadows. Go through the alleys."
Stoned Bear laughed. His ass off.
"Oh-kay..." Hudson took a final bow and parted, leaving the boys with a piece of paper with the address they were to go to. It was about 5 blocks away.
Jack stood up straight. "We can do this, men."
Blink motioned to the door. "Let's go."
The boys all slowly walked to the door, making sure the... pie... was secure in Jack's hands. When they had walked a block, Spot tapped Jack on the back. "Lemme carry it; she liked me better then you anyway."
"Yeah," Jack chuckled sarcastically, "sure she did."
"Lemme carry it!" Spot ordered.
"I don't trust you."
"Well, do trust me." Spot crossed his arms.
"I... I just can't Spot. Not with somethin' as important as this pie. I'm sorry."
Spot spat. "I hate you."
"It happens." Jack rolled his eyes.
Ahead of the boys, Oscar was walking towards them. "Dammit," Crapface groaned.
"What, you're scared of Oscar?" Race inquired with a chuckle.
"No," Crapface began, "'dammit' because I got the nickname Crapface."
"Oh."
Everyone got in a row of two's, Jack in front with Spot. "What's that you got there?" Oscar inquired, looking at the box. He put his face close to it, trying to get a smell of it.
Spot kicked him. "No smellin' the pie," he stated.
"It don't smell like a pie."
"Well, neither does ya Mother, but what can you do about that?" Stoned Bear inquired, laughing. "I'm so funny!" he screamed, pulling away at his hair.
Oscar put his arms out and motioned for the boys to walk again. "Continue your journey," he said.
The group began walking again. "We'll kick your ass when we got the time," Jack promised. Just as he finished, he felt himself lunge forward. Oscar had stuck his foot out and after Jack fell forward, the rest of the line did. The pie box flew up in the air, and Oscar stuck his arms out to catch it.
Spot kicked his legs up and knocked Oscar to the ground. "I got you, girl!" He held his own arms out and stood up, the pie falling... ve... ry... slow... ly.
Jack jumped up and knocked Spot out of the way. "I'm the box holder!" he boomed. The box fell into Jack's hands. "Yessss." He leaned down and kissed the paper box. "I love you – yes, I do."
Oscar caught himself from the fall, but decided to not bother the boys. "Fine." He ran off. "I'll get my own pie, dammit!" he cried.
"Not as good as ours!" Blink called back.
Spot felt a tinge of anger come over him as he stood back up again, everyone else doing the same. "Uh, what was that? I wanna hold the box! I saved it!"
"You almost saved it," Jack corrected him. "If I do recall, you was loungin' about, and I... you tripped. I saved the pie."
"I don't believe this!" Spot flung his arms up in the air. "I ain't stayin' in your company..."
"Fine," Jack began, "you can leave."
"Whatever." Spot walked in the opposite direction.
And the 5 boys continued.
Suddenly, from out of the sky, 10 monkeys flew down. Well, I say flew, but they really just jumped from a window above the boys. "Escaped monks!" someone screamed from the window in a southern accent, "Get 'em!"
Stoned Bear laughed and laughed and laughed and then decided to quit laughing finally. "Sure thing!" he yelled. The monkeys had already made their way far down the street. Stoned Bear screamed, "Get the hell back here! RAWR!"
And sure enough... the monkeys made their way back up the street. 2 jumped in Stoned Bear's arms, 3 on his back (no pun intended), 2 on his legs, and 3 on each other's backs on his head.
"I, uh..."
"You seem just a little too busy to be with us. We gotta be gettin' this crap to its destination," Crapface stated. With that, they all left Stoned Bear with the 10 monkeys on his back (pun intended this time).
And then there were 4.
After the boys got a block away from Stoned Bear, Racetrack stopped. "Hey," he said, "do you think we did good by leavin' S.B.? That was kinda mean."
"You think?" Blink mumbled.
Jack rolled his eyes and groaned. "Damn! All you guys do is complain!"
Blink slipped away from Jack's side and stood by Race. "That was really messed up man. I think that pie is gettin' to ya..."
"Or the girl," Race stated, cutting Kid Blink off.
Crapface shoved Racetrack. "Cut the crap."
Race held back the anger. He had been pushed! Come on now. Who wants to mess with Race? Anyway, Race glared and growled, "Don't you feel bad?"
"Obviously, they weren't all that great if they couldn't even take a pie seriously," Crapface retorted.
Blink laughed, "It's a pie!"
"See?" Jack began, "Bitch, moan, and laugh. It's a very important mission we was sent on. This pie is gettin' there safely."
Race shook his head. "Come on." Blink and Race left Crapface and Jack.
And then there were 2.
"Only one more block," Jack whispered to Crapface.
"Why are ya whisperin'?" Crapface inquired, also in a low voice.
"The pie could be sleepin'."
Crapface nodded. "Right."
They got closer and closer to their destination... yet so far... Out of the corner of Jack's eye, there was a man following them across the street. Jack stopped and did a 90 degree on his heel. "What are you doin' followin' us like this?" he called out.
The man, covered completely in a black trench coat and hat, stared at the boys from afar, the darkness shielding his eyes. "I want that box."
"I'm sure you do, but we's already where we gotta go, which is..." Jack took a step forward, finishing, "here." He turned and started walking up the steps to the porch of a giant apartment complex. "Pretty nice."
Crapface, not really watching where he was walking, tripped and fell, face-flat into a pile of dog shit. You were waiting for some mockery, weren't you? Well, he just about blew his organ. Before he could scream in anger though, the man in the trench coat started across the street. Crapface, afraid, and not giving a damn about the crap on his face anymore, hopped up and ran towards Jack.
Jack was already inside the building now, and upon seeing Crapface... with crap on his face... he did a slow-motion fall backwards, his shoes trying to grasp the cement and hold his body up. "N-o-o-o-o-o!"
Ya see, when things are in slow motion, everything else is, as well.
"N-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!" Crapface moaned with Jack.
"N-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!" the trench coat dude exclaimed also.
"A-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" some lady cried from across the hall of the building. "D o n ' t f a l l o n t h e p r i c e l e s s c h i n a!"
Another man was beside her. "O h - - - b l o o d y - - - n o!"
"R A W R!" a cat managed to get out in the middle of all this from the nearest window.
"I ' l l g e t y o u m y p r e t t y!" The Wicked Witch of the West cackled from the sky.
Okay, you get it.
Jack fell, causing the pie box to squash and splatter little bits of peach and crust on his face.
"Hey," the guy in the trench coat stated, "it's actually a pie."
"Duh, it's a pie," Crapface said, a big, dry crap-chunk falling off of his nose. "What did you think it was?"
The man shrugged. "A bomb, I guess."
T h e E n d
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I know - this is the greatest fan fiction you've ever read. I'm a genius, and you're jealous. It's okay.
Haha, seriously, I wrote this in like 20 minutes about a year ago, on a day when I was listening to a lot of Tori Amos. Make a little more sense now? I love Tori, but honestly, what the feck?
Hope you guys comment with an open and stupid mind, because I really don't see why I need any criticism for something like this... lol.
Oh, and the opening lines are from "Moulin Rouge". Well, not word for word, but yeah. There's my recommendation for a movie where you can watch a hot Nicole Kidman whore around with Ewan McGregor. Rawr!
Love from Loopy Loops