I wrote this a long time ago, and I deleted it because no one really liked it. But now I found the old files and updated and improved it. I give you: On the Grounds of Brooklyn, a Newsie's Musical.
Disclaimer: I do not own Annie, or Brigadoon, or Newsies.
NARRATOR: In 1883, a baby boy was born to Mr. and MRS. CONLON, recent Irish immigrants.
MR. CONLON: What will we name him?
MRS. CONLON: Broghan, because it means strong in our native language.
MR. CONLON: And a middle name?
MRS. CONLON: Elliot.
MR. CONLON: Broghan Elliot Conlon, our little boy. Welcome to the family. (MR. CONLON and MRS. CONLON look down at baby SPOT and smile. They look at each other before FREEZING)
NARRATOR: Unfortunately the young couple died in 1891, leaving a nine year old Brogthan to fend for himself in the city of Brooklyn. He found a home in the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House. As the years passed he became renowned far and wide as the leader of the Brooklyn newsies and now went by the name...
Extra: (Angrily, from offstage) SPOT CONLON!
(SPOT runs on, breathing heavily and laughing. He takes a seat on a nearby crate and catches his breath as several nearby NEWSIE CHORUS and GRIN laugh goodnaturedly and continue shooting slingshots, or playing cards or marbles)
GRIN: SPOT, you're gonna get yourself killed someday. What were you doing anyway?
SPOT: (Laughing breathlessly) My job. Get outta here, GRIN. We've got a banner to carry. (SCENE FREEZES. Lights dim and the NARRATOR is revealed in a spotlight downstage CENTER)
NARRATOR: Mr. Bentley wasn't a nice man to begin with, but when his young and beautiful wife died during the birth of their daughter, he became even worse. He named the daughter after his beloved wife, JANE, and treated her more like a drudge servant than family.
Mr. Bentley: (ENTERS stage LEFT and calls back over his shoulder) JANE! Get your worthless hide to the market and get the groceries. The pantry is almost empty! (Crosses the stage and EXITS stage RIGHT)
NARRATOR: Until one day Jane decided that she'd had enough of her abusive father and his torments and took fate into her own hands. On that day, Jane ran away from home. (ENTER JANE, SPOT, GRIN, and Newsie Chorus. JANE ENTERS running from stage LEFT and sits down on a crate downstage LEFT. SPOT and GRIN meet downstage RIGHT)
GRIN: Heya boss, who's the dame on your territory? I haven't ever seen her before.
SPOT: I don't know. But she can't be here without a proper introduction. I guess I should handle this one myself. (Walks stage LEFT) Hey! Girl! Who're you?
JANE: Oh! Me? My name is Jane. And who's asking?
SPOT: The name's Spot Conlon, and you're on Brooklyn territory, toots.
(They FREEZE as NEWSIE CHORUS begins to sing softly)
CHORUS: Brigadoon – Once in the Highlands
Once in the streets
The dank streets of Brooklyn
Early one morning on a sunny day
There on the docks
The old docks in Brooklyn
Two lost souls found each other
And this is what happened
The strange thing that happened
To two lost souls who found each other
On that sunny day
(SPOT and JANE unfreeze and resume their conversation as the Newsie Chorus begin to wander back to their previous places)
SPOT: You look kinda lost, girl.
JANE: Well I'm not!
SPOT: Really dollface?
JANE: (Indignant) Maybe a little, but I don't need help from the likes of you. I just need a job is all.
SPOT: You any good at selling papes?
JANE: I don't know, I've never had the chance to try.
SPOT: Well, how about you spend the day with me and try it out, and if you're any good I'll let you do it again tomorrow. Maybe you can earn a living.
JANE: AlRIGHT...
GRIN: (Walks up and whispers in SPOT's ear)
SPOT: I'm sorry Jane, I gotta go. Duty calls. Grin here can show you the ropes.
JANE: Goodbye Spot, thank you.
SPOT: Don't thank me yet, dollface.
JANE: My name is – oh nevermind.
GRIN: Well my name is Grin, I'm Spot's second in command.
JANE: Second in command?
GRIN: Yeah, he's the self-proclaimed King of the Brooklyn Newsies. Haven't you heard of him before? The famous Brooklyn womanizer, Spot Conlon.
JANE: Sounds like a nice guy. Well I guess we'd better get selling. I've got a position to earn.
(JANE and GRIN EXIT stage RIGHT as a Policeman and Mr. Bentley ENTER stage LEFT)
Policeman; Thanks, we'll be sure to look out for a girl of her description. I'll let you know if we see or hear anything, sir. (EXITS stage LEFT)
Mr. Bentley: Stupid girl. I knew I couldn't trust her. When they find her and drag her back home she'll be cleaning the floors for weeks, especially with all the rabble she's roused. Daughters are useless.
(MR. BENTLEY EXITS stage LEFT, JANE and GRIN ENTER stage RIGHT)
JANE: I didn't know you guys had it so rough! I'm starting to appreciate the work of a newsie.
GRIN: Yeah, you're right. But it's a lifestyle that many children live, here in New York.
SPOT: Hey, how'd her first day go, Grin?
GRIN: She's pretty good, boss. She managed to push twenty in two hours. She even improvised the title without a hint from me.
SPOT: Well it looks like she'll need a new name then, huh? How about...Firefly? The way she's always lighting up.
JANE/Firefly: I like that.
SPOT: Good. Well, what do you think of the newsie life, Firefly?
FIREFLY: It's a rough one, but I think I can handle it...
(NEWSIES CHORUS, FIREFLY, SPOT, AND GRIN gather downstage)
GRIN: Hard Knock Life – Annie
It's the newsie life for us
ALL: It's the newsie life for us
GRIN: 'Stead of treatin' we get tricked
'Stead of kisses we get kicked
It's a newsie life
SPOT: Got no folks to speak of so
We sell papes for Bill or Joe
Cotton blankets, 'stead of wool
Empty bellies, 'stead of full
It's a newsie life
GRIN: Don't it feel like the wind is always howling?
Don't it feel like there's never any light?
Every day there are coppers out there prowling
And they'll toss you in the jail for just one fight
ALL: No one's there when your dreams at night get creepy
No one cares if you grow or if you shrink
No one dries when your eyes get wet and weepy
But it's rare to cry if you care what we think
Oh oh oh
Empty belly life
Rotten smelly life
Full of sorrow life
No tomorrow life
NEWSIE CHORUS MEMBER 1: Santa Clause we never see
SPOT: Santa Clause what's that, who's he?
No one cares for you a smidge
If they're either smart or rich
It's a newsie life
(Speaking)
Sell the papes! Sell ya papes! Come on men, kill, kill!
ALL: Yank the whiskers from his chin!
SPOT: Lousy scabbers.
ALL: Jab him with a safety pin.
SPOT: They're all orphans.
ALL: Make him drink a Mickey Fin.
SPOT: We've got papes to sell!
ALL: We heard you, Conlon!
SPOT: Clean the bunk beds, keep ya pants on, sell the papers! Hawk those headlines! And I mean NOW!
ALL: It's a newsie life for us
It's the newsie life for us
No one cares for you a smidge
If they're either smart or rich
It's a newsie life!
(SPOT and FIREFLY spit-shake and the curtain closes)