No Sleep till Brooklyn
by: bl33ding p03t
Disclaimer: I only own Sly and some others. I have no claim over Spot, Jack or anybody else...
Author's Note: This story came to me while thinking of a wedding for Past's Do Bite and while listening to the Beastie Boys song 'No Sleep till Brooklyn'.
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Manhattan at night. Ah, the sweet sound of the horse's hooves on the ground as they trot along with a carriage attached to their backs. Its raining, the Manhattan rain, damn the rain. Of all nights in December, why does tonight have to rain? It's December 6,1899. Its snowing and the rain isn't helping anything.
Damn the rain to hell and back! The rain is not the point of this story. This story, is my diary, the diary of an 18 year old girl newsie. My name is Sly, or often called Crafty, which basically means the same thing. I live in the Manhattan Lodging House, with a bunch of men, led by Jack Kelly, the sweet, almost innocent, leader. Heh, you call a lying leader innocent and sweet? We've all forgiven him.
I'm the only working woman in Manhattan, sentenced to work a while ago by my powerful father, who happens to be a editor of the New York World. He said we needed money, heh, yeah sure. He has enough money to feed all of the newsies in Brooklyn and Manhattan. At least I wasn't something else. I should be glad I'm a newsie, with as big a family as I got, if you'd call it a family.
Anyway, as I said before, my name is Sly. When I first became a newsie, or even before that, I was always good at being crafty and sneaky. Kid Blink said I was like a fox, sly, which Sly soon became my name. My real name is unimportant, as is all the newsies real names.
I'm 5'3 with short blonde hair, that goes to my shoulders because I cut it that short so it wouldn't get into my face while I was selling, chocolate brown eyes, a muscular body, a varying personality, and a 'body to kill', which is what Racetrack says.
You sure you want to enter the life of a newsie? Now you know a little about me and a little about my past, want to know my future, my present, and more about my past? Read my Diary, and you will know. Remember, No Sleep till Brooklyn. Jack says that to me all the time when we head to see Spot.
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Author's Note: Sounds like others, i think, but it will be different. Its a few months after the strike and all, remember, Sly said it was Dec.6,1899, almost 1900. Please r&r
by: bl33ding p03t
Disclaimer: I only own Sly and some others. I have no claim over Spot, Jack or anybody else...
Author's Note: This story came to me while thinking of a wedding for Past's Do Bite and while listening to the Beastie Boys song 'No Sleep till Brooklyn'.
----------------------------
Manhattan at night. Ah, the sweet sound of the horse's hooves on the ground as they trot along with a carriage attached to their backs. Its raining, the Manhattan rain, damn the rain. Of all nights in December, why does tonight have to rain? It's December 6,1899. Its snowing and the rain isn't helping anything.
Damn the rain to hell and back! The rain is not the point of this story. This story, is my diary, the diary of an 18 year old girl newsie. My name is Sly, or often called Crafty, which basically means the same thing. I live in the Manhattan Lodging House, with a bunch of men, led by Jack Kelly, the sweet, almost innocent, leader. Heh, you call a lying leader innocent and sweet? We've all forgiven him.
I'm the only working woman in Manhattan, sentenced to work a while ago by my powerful father, who happens to be a editor of the New York World. He said we needed money, heh, yeah sure. He has enough money to feed all of the newsies in Brooklyn and Manhattan. At least I wasn't something else. I should be glad I'm a newsie, with as big a family as I got, if you'd call it a family.
Anyway, as I said before, my name is Sly. When I first became a newsie, or even before that, I was always good at being crafty and sneaky. Kid Blink said I was like a fox, sly, which Sly soon became my name. My real name is unimportant, as is all the newsies real names.
I'm 5'3 with short blonde hair, that goes to my shoulders because I cut it that short so it wouldn't get into my face while I was selling, chocolate brown eyes, a muscular body, a varying personality, and a 'body to kill', which is what Racetrack says.
You sure you want to enter the life of a newsie? Now you know a little about me and a little about my past, want to know my future, my present, and more about my past? Read my Diary, and you will know. Remember, No Sleep till Brooklyn. Jack says that to me all the time when we head to see Spot.
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Author's Note: Sounds like others, i think, but it will be different. Its a few months after the strike and all, remember, Sly said it was Dec.6,1899, almost 1900. Please r&r