Infamous
By: Joker is Poker with a J
Summary: Da names Infamous. Ya probably nevah hoid of me, but Ise's the leadah of da Brooklyn Sewsies. Dat's right, da Sewsies. Not Newsies, and not street rats. Sewsies, Sewage Rats...
Note: Once again, I've revised this chapter. Not as much as last time, only a few small things. Enjoy.
I'se strolled inta Mama Nuss's, mindin' my own, and actin' like Ise own the woild because I do. Ok, Ise admit I'm a little arrogant, but hey, dat's just me.
So, I sit down in my favorite booth, back to the door, when Ise look ova and see me best bud, Renegade. Getting up, I quietly sneak up behind her, not even takin' notice to the Newsies dat sat at the table, and putting my hands ova her eyes. In a husky voice Ise say, "Guess who."
Of course, me and Ren are like dat. Heres where Ise show you my middle and pointer finger intwined. Anyway, she immediately jumps up, screaming at the top of her lungs, "INFAMOUS!!!!!" Gosh, does dat hoit ones' ears.
Jumping up and down, ecstatic to see each other, we rejoice. Hey, it's been two weeks.
"Whose dis?" A voice asked, disrupting our happy moment.
Ise stop and stare at the person who doesn't know me. Not many can say dey neva hoid of me. Most just don't know me by looks, only by me name. Cause, I'm like a shadow, creeping around beneath your feet.
Renegade is kind enough to introduce me, "Boys, dis is Infamous. Infamous, dis here is Jack Kelly," She pointed to a brown haired guy, "And dis is Spot Conlon." She pointed to the blue eyed guy who had interrupted our reunion.
I smirked, "Ahh, da famous Spot Conlon. Da 'Supposed King o' Brooklyn.'" I waited for him to sputter in anger, anything ta see my woids hit home.
"Whaddya mean, 'Supposed'?" He drawled, all devil may care. Ise'll admit dis impressed me, da way he handled his tempah.
Laughing, I spun a chair from anotha table and sat down, "Just dat ya authority only goes...skin deep."At dat crack, Renegade was practically rolling in silent laughter.
"Spot, excuse Infamous, she," giggles, "She thinks she owns Brooklyn." More bursts of giggles.
Glaring at me best friend, I said, somewhat set back, "Honey, Ise own Brooklyn if ya haven't noticed. Who would command da Sewsies?" I asked.
Glancin' ovah ta Spot, Ise watched his eyes flash from their lightning blue to an almost silvah. "Those are ya boys dat have been harrassin' mine?"
Ise guess Take, Boyor, and Lanky left a more lastin' effect den Ise thought. I chuckled, "Shoah dey are. Your boys are my boys hobbies."
"Well, just how do yas suppose ya own Brooklyn?" He asked, "Ise neva hoid ya name befoah."
"Don't lie. Youse ain't very good. Ya hoid of me, ya just don't wanna admit it. And anyways, I own Brooklyn, not only because I know every nook and cranny, but 'cause Ise know every tunnel unda ground." Ise sat back, a triumphant smirk on my face.
Spot glared at me, "Well, youse bettah keep ya crew away from me territory."
Ise leaned back in my chair, pulling out my night stick and waving it, "What ya gonna do 'bout it Spotty?"
His blue eyes narrowed, "Ise don't no'mally hit goils, but ya pushin' me awful close. Don't call me Spotty, and keep your boys away from mine."
"Ise may be their leadah, Mistah Conlon, but Ise not a complete and total tyrant."
A smirk came on Spot's features, "Ise bet youse ain't."
Ise stood up, moving towards Spot Conlon, "What's dat suppose ta mean? Ya don't gotta rule wit a iron fist. But, den again, maybe ya do, Conlon." Ise added, turnin' away. "I'll catchya around, Renegade. Ise suddenly lost me appetite." Ise shot a last look at Spot as I headed for da door.
"Wait jus' a minute dere, goil." I heard him say as I reached the door. I turned my head to da side, waiting.
"If Ise see your boys harrassin' mine one more time, I'll let mine soak yours."
"Touch one of me Sewsies, Spot Conlon, and youse askin' for a fight." Ise said it in my most serious voice, and den strolled outta da restaurant.
Ise was jist minding my own business about a few hours after da scene when my best bud Pass found me. He looked a little wound up, so I gave him a smile, "Whaddya say, Pass?" Ise greeted him.
Biting his lip, something he didn't do often, he flicked his blond hair out of his face, "Heya Infamous, Ise been lookin' foir ya. Curse sent me ta get ya..."
Immediately giving him my attention, I asked, "What happened? Did someone get hoit?"
Pass avoided my eyes, "Well, me and Devil and Basil came up with Lanky and Take and we'se was hanging out. And den Lanky made a comment ta wanna da newsies, and den...well...ya see, In, Ise guess da boy t'ought 'e could just go and soak a Sewsie wit out repercussions..."
Ise felt my blood start ta boil. Spot Conlon was gonna get a whole lotta shit flown at him. Ise didn't let people touch me boys wit out some sorta lesson ta be dished out. "Come on, Pass, lets go pay a little visit ta Spot Conlon."
Ise was weaving through da crowd, knowing Pass would keep up. Ise was too angry ta try and pickpocket anyone, but knew dat Pass wouldn't let this opportunity go. The market crowd in Brooklyn was vast, and very crowded.
We finally made it to the edge of the market, and the docks that were now in view, "Conlon." I muttered in scorn, seeing the figures of the newsies playing in the water and on the docks.
My boot stamped onto the wood of the docks, and my grey eyes met the blue eyes of the leader. He sat at the very end, his newsies in between. What a coward.
Ise walked down the dock, not giving the newsies any more thought den I did the people in da market. It was their leader I was there for.
One newsie blocked my path, "Goin' somewheres, goil?"
I didn't spare him a glance, "Ise got business with Mistah Conlon." I put all my dislike for him in the mockery of his name.
The newsie backed off, and I continued, this time without any more interference.
Reaching his throne of crates, I waited for him to descend. When he did, I gave him the full force of my glare.
He merely smirked at me, and after a moment, he pulled out his cane and tapped it softly on the dock, "Ise woined ya, Infamous. Ya boys make one more crack at mine, and dey was gonna be soaked."
"And Ise woined you, Spot Conlon, dat if your boys lay a hand on mine, youse would be asking foah a fight."
Quirking an eyebrow he asked, "Whatya gonna do 'bout it?"
My glare did not falter, "Lets go, youse an' me, right here."
Spot blinked in surprise, then asked, "Youse serious?"
"Yeah, Ise serious. Does dis look like a jokin' face ta ya? I didn't t'ink so. Now, lets go. Ise want a honest ta god real fight wit you Conlon."
He laughed, actually laughed at me. It only fed my temper hotter. "Ise not gonna hit a goil." He said, a smirk still in place.
"Y'know, Conlon, I'm sure you can kick da shit outta any guy 'round hereh. But, even if I'm a goil, Ise can still take youse in a fight."
"Heya boys," Spot called out, beginning to circle me, "Dis goil hereh wants ta fight me."
A few of da boys whistled, and a few gave cat-calls, most booed. Pass, who had been hovering close to me, but just faraway, glared at da boys. He had seen me fight, and just 'cause Ise was a goil, didn't mean Ise didn't know how ta fight. I had been taught well by Con to use my advantages and to avoid getting caught at a disadvantage. Down in the sewers we fought to train regularly three times a week.
I wasn't sure if I could take Spot Conlon, but I'd never let him know it. I knew that I could at least rival him, and that was enough for me.
Spot settled down his boys and turned to me, "Youse really wanna do dat, goil?"
"You bet your ass I do, Conlon. You mess wit a Sewsie, youse messin' wit me. And Ise have a feelin' you'll be coming ta regret dis."
He smirked, but set down his cane as I handed Pass my Night Stick. I watched as he pulled off the key that hung around his neck and handed it to a boy with reddish gold hair.
"Now," Ise started, addressing his newsies, "Ise don't want ya ta t'ink less of Mistah Conlon's when I kick his ass. It won't be like a goil kicked his ass. It'll be like da best fighter in New Yoik kicked his ass is all." I smirked as da boys laughed. Dey t'aught it was a joke dat I wanted ta fight him.
Pass patted my shoulder, "Do da Sewsies proud." He said. Pass had always learned from me. I had never been beaten below, and I didn't plan ta be beaten now.
A/N: I've revised a few small things. Mostly Spot cuz he wasn't lookin' to good in this chapter. So, I hope you're enjoying this. Sorry about not updating.