Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. All other characters belong to their respective creators.
Chapter 10.
"Bring Your Kids to Work" Day Part II, Part One
Without fail, when he was ever late for something, everything around him decided to go wrong and break down. Skittery adjusted his headphones, slugged his messenger bag over his shoulder and allowed himself to be swept up in the mad mass of cranky New York City commuters. Some power-walked, others dragged their feet sleepily. With the 6 train service unexpectedly coming to a halt on Lexington and 59th—one of the busiest stations during rush hour—commuters were driven off the train and forced to either wait for the 4 or 5 trains, or trek down to the N-Q-R platform. Skittery was part of the latter group.
Typical morning in New York City.
Seeing that the ventilation system was non-existent, the air was muggy and stifling in the station. One of the worst parts of summer was right down here. Yes, the trains were air-conditioned (unless you were really unlucky and hopped onto one with a busted AC), but it barely made a difference during rush hour, when you were crammed into a little crevice on a train packed with people who had been running about in the summer heat, perspiration and all.
When Skittery arrived at the N-Q-R platform with the rest of the downtown travelers, he pushed past the waiting crowd to get to the front of the platform. Most of the time, the front of the platform wasn't nearly as crowded as the rest of its length. He slowed down and found a spot right near the edge from where he could wait for an incoming train.
Whenever there was a rumbling in the station, he leaned forward to see if a pair of headlights in the tunnel was making its way to the station, but it was always a train on the opposite track. His patience was wearing thin. It was on the third time he performed this habit that he saw her from the corner of his eye, standing just a few feet away.
Pegasus was absently toeing the yellow protective strip on the ground (which served as the safety mark for waiting commuters) clutching a clear shopping bag in both hands. It was a rare sight, seeing Peg without a scarf wrapped around her face and shoulders. Not surprisingly, though, she had brought the scarf with her—he could see the ends of it sticking out of her tote bag.
Skittery removed his headphones, pushing them down onto his shoulders, and walked towards his fellow co-worker.
"Hey, Peg," he said.
Surprised by his sudden appearance, Peg took a long second to react to his greeting. "Skittery, hi!" she finally replied. "I didn't know you took the R to work."
"I usually take the 6. Service stopped for some reason, though."
Looking about the platform, she said, "No wonder it's more crowded than usual here." And it was getting more crowded with every minute that passed with no train.
Skittery nodded at the shopping bag in her hands. "Whatcha got there?"
"This?" she said, lifting the bag slightly. She beamed sheepishly. "Cupcakes."
His mind instantly picked up at the mention of food. "Cupcakes, huh?"
She nodded, fixing those huge glasses of hers on the bridge of her nose. "I have a friend who works at the Crumbs on Lexington," she explained, before adding covertly, "She always throws in a free cookie for me when the manager's not looking."
An easy smile tugged at his lips. "What's the occasion?"
She shrugged casually. "No occasion. We girls figured we deserved a little 'take five' with a side of frosted sugary goodness once in a while. And since Stress got the last batch, it's my turn. Wanna see?" She opened wide the bag to show him the package of six colorfully decorated cupcakes. "The Red Velvet is for Stress, the Caramel Apple is for Adren—"
"Who's Adren?"
"She's the Editorial intern shadowing Stress. And I think I'll give the Blueberry Swirl and Raspberry Swirl to Mush and Blink, because they've been helping out a lot while Swifty's been talking to Stacy and Race has been playing his online poker games."
Skittery feigned disbelief as he demanded, "Where's mine?"
She crinkled her nose. "You know how expensive these are? You've got to earn one." She peered into her bag again. "That leaves the Toasted Coconut and the Cotton Candy."
"Dibs on the Toasted Coconut," he called. "I'll earn it."
"I want the Toasted Coconut. You can have the Cotton Candy."
"That one's pink."
"It's just frosting—cream cheese frosting. Ah!" she exclaimed suddenly, pointing a thoughtful finger at him, "And it'll match your shirt."
Skittery looked down and almost groaned. That's what he got for not doing the laundry; the only clean button-down he had left when he rolled out of bed this morning was a light pink one his older sister had gotten for him last Christmas. Not too fond of the color, Skittery had tucked it away into the farthest reaches possible of his tiny closet. He didn't even remember he still had it until today, when he pulled open the sticking door and saw his closet nearly empty of clothes—except for this one shirt.
"R is coming," Peg announced.
He followed her gaze into the tunnel. "About time," Skittery muttered as he glanced at his watch. They were already late.
As it rumbled and screeched into the station, the incoming train caused a collective movement as the commuters crept towards the ledge of the platform. Even though they had been waiting on the edge, Skittery and Peg felt the crowd closing in around them and pushing them back farther from the train. The R came to a full stop and the doors slid open. A number of passengers streamed out of the train, squeezing between the waiting travelers. Before the last passenger even managed to scamper out the doors, the swarm went into action.
With everyone in a rush to get to work, people shoved with their shoulders and bags to get through. Timing his jump right, Skittery slipped past two burly men just as they bumped hard into and bounced off each other. He struggled to skip through the next level of people ahead of him, but—he glimpsed ahead to see how full the train car was—it looked like he could just make it in at this point. When he was just inches from the entrance, he grabbed at the open frame and, at last, heaved himself in.
Pegasus, on the other hand, was close to giving up. Taller and stronger men and women had pushed their way ahead of her, and Peg felt herself getting carried farther away, especially as she allowed elderly people to cut in front of her. She knew she was already late to the office, but she was reassured knowing that rest of the Web Team was probably kicking off the morning playing World of Warcraft anyway. The mad crowd wasn't worth damaging her pretty (and pricey) cupcakes either. She was just three people away from the now-packed train car when she heard the chiming indicating that the doors were going to close. Peg sighed. She'd just have to wait for the next train.
And just at that moment, a hand shot out between the people standing in front of her, seized her elbow in an iron grip and pulled her forward; it happened so quickly, Peg didn't even realize she was knocking people out of the way with her bags as she was hauled into the train car, and before she knew it, she flew straight into Skittery's chest.
The doors slid shut behind her.
He released her arm as the train plodded to its next stop. Peg sucked in her breath, afraid to breathe, unnerved by the lack of space between them. It was awkward enough to bump into someone outside of their usual context—in this case, a co-worker outside of the office—but then to be thrown into each other's personal space on top of that? With her shoulders pressed up to her ears, Peg leaned back against the doors—even though the signs on all the doors explicitly warned against leaning against them—in an attempt to compress herself and to create breathing room. It didn't help. She was standing so close to him that the top of her head was directly beneath his chin.
She tried to busy her mind, trying to mentally take herself out of the cramped train. Unfortunately, her mind wandered. She tilted her head back to face Skittery and saw him staring off into space, seemingly deep in thought himself. Then she tilted her head to the left, thinking, with newfound appreciation, that she rather liked that tousled hair look on him. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Preposterous! She chastised her wandering mind repeatedly, swatting the thought away like one would at a fly. Her liking Skittery because of his hair? She snorted.
Skittery was no Mike Rowe.
"I got you on the train," Skittery said suddenly, causing Peg to quickly avert her eyes. She stared at the "Learn English" ads along the walls instead. He added dryly, "Have I earned a cupcake now?"
With a revelatory "oh!" she felt for the bag hanging at her wrist. "My cupcakes…" Peg said lamely, trying to look down, but it was too cramped for her to check on the bag.
Thankfully, the crowd soon dissipated after several stops: some let off at 49th Street, many ran out at Times Square and 42nd Street, and just as many took their leave at 34th Street and Herald Square. Just as soon after, Skittery and Peg were on their way as well. They stepped off at their stop, passed through the turnstiles, trudged up the stairs, and emerged from the stuffy underground, breathing in the slightly less stuffy New York summer air.
It was only a short walk to Pulitzer Publishing. They entered the upscale building, greeted the security guards and scanned their ID badges at the turnstiles before catching the elevator up to the Lab. On the way up, Peg inspected her cupcakes—they had, to her relief, survived the rough commute.
When the elevator doors opened on their floor and they stepped out, Skittery and Peg both immediately sensed that something was wrong. From their spot, they could see the inside of the Lab through the glass windows. Jack was talking with Race and Swifty, who wasn't on his phone, which was strange. Peg studied the rest of the Lab, including the desks belonging to the designers. Aside from the monitors, keyboards, and mice, all the desks were stark empty. Even the cubicle corkboards, which some of the designers filled proudly with their children's drawings, posters, or with notes and calendars, were bare.
"Uh… what's going on?" Skittery asked in confusion.
"I have no idea." Children's drawings. Her hand flew to her mouth as she covered up a gasp. "Mr. Jones!" she exclaimed in panic, and rushed to the Lab doors.
"What?"
"Mr. Jones!" she cried again as she ran in, not bothering to wait for Skittery.
Pegasus dashed across the Lab to her cubicle, rounded the panels, and faced her desk. Her sights fell on the spot where her proud 12-inch Indiana Jones action figure usually stood. The spot was empty.
Mr. Jones was gone, in his place a single yellow Post-It. She approached the note slowly and plucked it off the desk. Peg could barely make out the illegible scribbles, but after some scrutinizing, she decoded the message.
Hey ya pansy horse with pansy wings!
We're holding Indiana Jones hostage!
"What's the matter with you?" Skittery asked, having finally caught up with her.
"They took him," Peg uttered in disbelief. "They took Mr. Jones."
Skittery frowned, looking around at his grim-faced friends. He realized now that she was referring to her precious collector's item. "Who took him?"
"Didn't you get Jonathan's e-mails? Nice shirt, by the way," said Jack, standing by Swifty's cubicle.
"I've been deleting them," Skittery said curtly, deliberately ignoring Jack's jab at his pink shirt. "What's going on?" he demanded again.
Pegasus turned to him then, shoulders slumped, visibly deflated. "It's 'Bring Your Kids to Work' Day."
Racetrack scowled as he added: "Part Two."
To: adren(at)pulitzerpublishing(dot)com
From: jonathan(at)pulitzerpublishing(dot)com
Subject: Bring Your Kids to Work Day, Part II!
ATTENTION PULITZER PUBLISHING EMPLOYEES!
After the wildly successful "Bring Your Kids to Work" Day that we at Pulitzer Publishing hosted in April, we thought we should bring it back for a second time this summer! Why, you ask?
Because the second time around means double the fun!
Mark your calendars, folks: "Bring Your Kids to Work" Day, Part II is upon us next Tuesday!
Directions: Bring your kids, little brothers, sisters, nephews, or nieces, etc. to work. Interns, please feel free to participate in this fun event!
Benefits: Your children will surely appreciate learning about the amazing Pulitzer Publishing Company—including the company's past and the remarkable Mr. Pulitzer, to today's successful day to day operations. I, Jonathan, will be hosting these exclusive lectures and tours myself.
To those bringing their delightful youngsters to our wonderful company, we at Pulitzer Publishing would like to inform you that FREE PIZZA will be provided for lunch at the Company Cafeteria. This is a company first! (You may thank me on Tuesday.)
If you have any questions, I, Jonathan, would be more than happy to address them.
Yours truly,
Jonathan
jonathan(at)pulitzerpublishing(dot)com
Assistant to Mr. Pulitzer
Head Event Coordinator
Head Intern Coordinator
Adren shrugged, still puzzled. She had thought something more serious than "Bring Your Kids to Work" Day was going on today, considering the gloom in the office. Since stepping foot onto the Editorial floor at 10:02AM, Adren observed with mystification as Stress fretted at her desk. Even Snoddy looked serious this morning. She asked Jake about the two anxious editors and he was just as baffled by his mentor's behavior. And then she finally went up to Stress, asking her if she needed help with any tasks today. Stress twitched at Adren's sudden appearance, her eyes and movements as alert as a bird's.
"Is something wrong?" Adren asked, concerned by Stress' heightened unease and the accordingly similar atmosphere of the office.
Stress saw the look in Adren's face and tried to calm down for the intern's sake. "No, I'm just being paranoid," she offered as easily as she could manage. She briefly checked her IM window to see if Peg had signed on yet. She hadn't.
Snoddy moved from his cubicle, stopping to call out to Stress. There was no ragging grin on his face, no mention of his alma mater. "Hey, Stress, coming to the meeting?"
Stress nodded, gathering a notepad and a pen before reluctantly rising from her chair. "Adren," she said, "could you check on the mailroom quickly for me? I should have gotten a package from a Joan Ringlow. I want to look at it as soon as I get out of the meeting."
"Sure thing, Stress," Adren said.
"And Adren—when you come back, can you keep an eye on my desk, please?" Adren frowned at the odd request. "Scratch that," Stress said, laughing nervously. "I'm just being paranoid. Just the package from Joan Ringlow, then."
Adren nodded and offered, "I'll go right now." Stress smiled her appreciation before making her way to the conference room.
As she stepped through the heavy oak doors out of the Editor's floor and strode towards the elevators, Adren bit the inside of her cheek in thought. Something was definitely wrong. Why was no one in the office talking? The nervous silence was unsettling. When the elevator doors opened with a ping! Adren stepped inside and pressed for the basement. She thought to ask Pegasus if she had any idea what was happening at Pulitzer Publishing. Then she could stop to say hi to Itey, since he worked in the Lab as well. Adren was deep in thought the entire trip down—so deep in thought, in fact, that she almost missed the doors closing on her at the basement.
Jerking out of her reverie, Adren slipped through the sliding doors and turned into the mailroom to her left. She turned the knob, pushed open the door—
And stopped dead in her tracks.
It looked like a storm blew through the mailroom. The room was a disaster, with letters thrown and tossed from their bins. Packages had toppled off the shelves. Every inch of the floor was covered by hills of envelopes. Adren stepped inside, still in shock from the sight, and pushed aside the fallen mail with her foot. What happened? she wondered. Who could have done this?
Things were getting stranger by the minute and now, with the mailroom in disarray, Adren couldn't afford to simply sit on the sideline. She had to notify someone about the mail and hopefully get some answers in the process.
Just as she turned to leave, however, someone appeared at the door.
"Devon?" the newcomer called as she peeked into the mailroom. It was a girl Adren could only vaguely recall from the Intern Orientation tour. With long blonde hair half pulled back and anxious green eyes obviously in search of something, the girl paled at the sight before her. The stunned expression on her face reflected the one Adren had worn when just minutes before.
Two thin cords trailed from the girl's ears to the iPod in her right hand, though the music playing on it was all but forgotten at the moment. "What happened?" she asked, utterly perplexed.
"I'm not sure. It was like this when I got here," Adren replied.
She removed her earphones and murmured in vexation, "What is going on today?"
It seemed Editorial wasn't the only one experiencing the strange atmosphere. "Beats me," Adren said, pursing her lips with concern.
"You noticed it, too? I thought I was just imagining things…"
"You're not the only one imagining them, then. Everyone's acting funny, and now this," she said, gesturing to the messy room. "I was thinking we should let a staff member know about this."
"I'll go find someone," the girl offered, nodding. Sidestepping the cluttered mail, she went out into the hallway and, luckily, found someone passing just at that moment. "Hi," she said, her voice small. She made up for it by raising her hand and giving a short wave.
Specs was on his way to the employee lounge when the girl stopped him. He smiled genially, figuring she was an intern that, by the look on her face, was having trouble finding something in the mailroom. In the early days of his internship last summer, Specs had had the unfortunate duty of digging and sorting through the high volumes of mail. He'd read stories of how all the successful people got their start in the mailroom, and how they learned a great deal on the job. Well, Specs begged to differ. It was the most painfully boring job he had ever had and he learned zip. When he got transferred to the Finance office, he gladly thought he'd never have to set foot inside the mailroom again.
"Need some help?" asked Specs.
"Yes," she said. "Something… happened. It's a complete mess in here."
It was always a complete mess in the mailroom. Specs wasn't so keen on returning to the place that had nearly driven him mad. Eh, for old time's sakes, he thought. With his experience, he was sure it would only take a few seconds to help out the unfortunate intern on mailroom duty.
He was wrong. Specs gaped at the sabotaged room. No sooner did he lay eyes on the place did he know who the vandalizers were. He should've known better than to think he would be in and out of this room in under a minute.
"We have no idea what happened," said the girl.
Specs sighed. "You both are interns, right?" he asked, spying the other girl in the room.
"Yes. I'm Adren. I'm interning in Editorial."
The blonde girl introduced herself as well. "Repeat. I'm in Communications."
He followed suit. "Specs, I work in Finance. You guys know it's 'Bring Your Kids to Work' Day, right?"
Adren and Repeat nodded.
"That answers your question about what happened here," he said. He shook his head as he took in the room. Since the company laid off employees at the beginning of the year, the mailroom had been tended to by a rotation of HR people. Well, where the heck were they now? Reluctantly—begrudgingly—he began picking up the mail and the overturned bins from the floor.
"Uh…"
He realized they need more of an explanation. "It began back in April. The original 'Bring Your Kids to Work' Day. The kids that came that day… well, they wreaked havoc on the company and almost everyone in it."
Adren spoke up. "Wait. Are you saying kids did this?"
"There's no doubt about it."
"And is that why everyone's been acting weird today?"
"Most likely. Everyone's been waiting to see if the kids would repeat what they did last time."
"You can't mean all of the kids, though?" Repeat inquired.
"Nah. That's the sad part. It's just one rogue group that kicks our butt."
Human Resources
She had been away from her desk for five minutes. Five minutes, and someone had cleared her desk of all its accessories. Her bobbleheads and her Ninja Turtles were gone. "Haha," Corky mumbled sarcastically, looking around the room suspiciously, trying to pinpoint the devious culprit responsible for her missing things. But she found nothing else out of the ordinary. Everyone was genuinely absorbed in their work.
Corky scrunched her nose and turned to Polaroid. "Did you see who took my stuff?"
Polaroid nodded. "Yeah, why do you ask?"
"What—what do you mean?" Corky said, frowning now.
"A little boy came in and took them. I asked him what he was doing and he said you told him it was okay to play with them for the day."
Corky's eyes widened in shock. She said slowly, "I didn't talk to any little boys."
Polaroid's face fell. "Uh-oh."
Mailroom
Despite herself, Repeat laughed at the disgruntled look on Specs' face. Seeing how serious he was about the matter, though, she veiled her amusement with an awkward cough.
"But why would kids do this?" inquired Adren, still skeptical.
There was no hesitation in Specs' response. "Why? 'Cause they're bored. And 'cause they're evil."
Editor's Floor
A quick hour after it began, the meeting came to a close. Stress exited the conference room in a nervous rush, heading straight to her desk. Her green eyes were alert as they surveyed the spacious work area. After a long moment, a sigh of immense relief escaped her lungs when she saw everything on her desk was intact. Nothing had happened. She had been fretting for no reason.
Stress dropped into her chair and pulled up her e-mail. No new messages. Then she checked her Instant Message program. Peg still wasn't on.
Now that was odd. She glanced at the time in the corner of her desktop and bit her lip. 11:40. Peg normally signed on the minute she got in the office. Odd, indeed, she thought suspiciously, especially considering the events taking place today. Stress shook her head, waving off the nagging uneasiness. There is a perfectly sound explanation for this, she convinced herself. With that, she dragged her notepad towards her, plucked a pen from her utensils mug, and set her mind to making the day's checklist.
She put pen to paper, but no letters appeared on her notepad. Stress sighed, realizing another pen had run out of ink. She tossed the used pen into the wastebasket and grabbed another one.
Before she could start on her checklist again, however, another thought occurred to her. Stress straightened, stretching her neck above the high walls of her desk. She had suddenly remembered asking Adren to pick up a package from the mailroom. There was no package and—Stress scanned the room—there was no Adren.
She breathed in slowly. There is a perfectly sound explanation for this.
She should have seen it coming, of course. When she clicked her pen to return to work, it exploded all over the desk, her shirt, her face. She blinked and jumped back in her seat, startled. Splotches of dark blue ink everything in a one-foot radius.
There is a perfectly sound explanation for all this, Stress thought, this time with a trace of anxiety. And that explanation is "Bring Your Kids to Work" Day.
Somewhere from the far recesses of the office, Stress could have sworn she heard the sound of a child's stifled snicker.
Communications
Peg entered the Communications floor with a purposeful stride. This was the second time she launched a rescue mission for her Indiana Jones collectible action figure, and she had learned quite a few things from the first round.
One was that Mr. Jones' kidnapper was little brother to an employee in Communications. Peg walked down the hall of cubicles, glancing at the name plates on each side until she found the one she was searching for on the second cubicle from the end. She knocked on the divider.
Sitting inside was a girl with long blonde hair left loose around her shoulders, falling down the length of her back. Poring over a tediously long e-mail with focused blue eyes and with her ears tuned into the music playing on her headphones, she didn't notice Peg standing to her left until Peg gave a friendly wave.
Catching the slight motion from the corner of her eye, the Communications member gave a start and swirled her chair round to face Peg. "Hi, can I help you?"
"Hi, Jeans," she began, "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Peg—from the Web team downstairs."
Unfortunately, Jeans didn't appear as though she remembered Peg at all.
She tried to jog her memory further. "Your little brother—he kind of took something of mine back in April, on the first 'Bring Your Kids to Work' Day…"
Jeans straightened abruptly in realization. "Oh, of course! I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you with the bangs."
"Oh, yeah, these are pretty new," Peg said, flicking the dark hair just above her eyes. "Anyway, I was sort of wondering if you knew where he was. Your brother, that is."
Her face fell with dreary apprehension. "Oh drat, why do you ask?"
Pegasus reached into her pocket and handed her the yellow sticky note. Jeans' sharp eyes immediately recognized her brother's handwriting.
Her lips drew thin. "That insufferable insubordinate brother of mine," she muttered, nervously fingering the lion pendant hanging on the necklace around her neck. To Peg she gave an apologetic look. "I'm sorry about this. And I told him this morning not to cause any more trouble…"
"It's all right," Peg said, waving it off good-naturedly. "Kids, they get bored, and then they… do things. I mean, this isn't exactly the most riveting place to spend the day. I'm sure they'd rather be at Disney Land or something."
"Oh, I know. Especially since Jonathan keeps insisting on taking the kids on a tour of the company… oh! I know where my brother will be," Jeans exclaimed suddenly. "In the cafeteria. Jonathan mentioned in his e-mails that they're going to be serving free pizza at noon."
"That's right!" Peg remembered. She looked at the time on her phone. 11:41AM.
"My brother loves pizza. He'll be there. I guarantee it."
The Lab
"Nah, it's a good look on you. Really. It's… different. It's different is what it is, right guys? It's like one of those paintings from that artist, ya know? The one that splashes buckets of paint everywhere," Jack appeased. Scratching the back of his head, he asked his friends, "What was that guy's name?"
"Pollock," Peg answered automatically as she veered into the Web corner. She dug her toes into the carpet, coming to an abrupt stop. "What happened?"
Stress sat, sullen, in Peg's cubicle. Smudges of blue stained her cheek and jaw while something akin to ink spotted her grey blouse. Pursing her lips grimly, she said simply, "My pen exploded."
Peg's eyes narrowed. "On 'Bring Your Kids to Work' Day? Coincidence?"
She shook her head. "I think not," Stress answered. She indicated the empty corner of Peg's desk. "I heard about what happened to Indiana Jones. Did you find him?"
"Not yet, but I know where to go next."
Stress looked at her inquiringly.
"The cafeteria," Peg provided. "I just went to see Jeans in Com and she reminded me about the free pizza party Jonathan's hosting at noon."
All the boys in the immediate area perked up at the words "free pizza." Jack shook his head with noticeable incredulity before an eager grin spread across his features. "I can't believe I forgot," he said to himself. He wasn't the only one who had overlooked the detail. They had all been so concerned about "Bring Your Kids to Work" Day that their internal Free Food Radar failed to pick up the obvious readings.
"It's almost noon. I'm going to head down now," said Peg.
Before Peg even finished her sentence, Jack jumped on the opportunity. "What do guys say to pizza for lunch?" he proposed to his friends.
"Brilliant idea, Jack," Race answered quickly, already rising from his chair. Jack, Swifty, and Skittery immediately followed suit.
Jack paused as the rest of the boys filed across the Lab to the doors. "Mush, Blink! Lunchtime," he called out to the interns. He turned to Stress next. "You coming?"
Stress flushed slightly, suddenly all too aware of how silly she must have appeared with the ink smudges on her face. "I think I'll pass on this one. I have a lot of work to do."
"Come on, Stress. It's free food."
Peg nearly jumped up and down with glee. She momentarily pushed the rescue mission to the side in favor of Stress and her You-know-who. "Yes, it's free food," Peg urged, hinting wildly with her eyes.
Stress caved after another minute. Satisfied, Jack jogged ahead to join his waiting friends while Peg, grinning from ear to ear now, and Stress, scrubbing her face with a baby wipe Peg supplied from her desk, took their time walking behind.
"This is perfect," Peg whispered merrily. "I can use Jack and Skittery to get those little rascals to cough up Mr. Jones, and in the meantime, you can talk to you-know-who!"
Mailroom
"Absolute terrors. Look at what they did to this place!" Specs griped as he bent down to pick up the scattered letters from the floor. As though a thought just occurred to him, Specs straightened, hands on his hips, jaw set stubbornly. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a thin phone and began to push at the buttons with his thumb.
Repeat tidied the mail bins. "You said it was one rogue group. Do you know who the individual kids are?"
"Kind of," Specs affirmed, inserting the phone back into his pocket. "We know who the two primary members are—the leaders that is. Problem is, by the end of 'Bring Your Kids to Work Day' Part One, they had recruited more kids. And we have no clue who those are." Specs shrugged despairingly. "Something tells me they might recruit more today, too."
That didn't sit well with Repeat. Two primary members, recruiting. She couldn't quite put her finger as to why that was bothering her…
And then it hit her. She gulped, gripped by sudden apprehension. "My parents made me bring my little brother, Devon, with me today. Mr. Denton asked me to deliver some CDs to the Lab, and I had to leave my brother at my computer. When I came back, he was gone. He was gone for more than a half-hour so I came down here, looking for him…" She reflected for a moment. "I was sure he mentioned something about ping pong and thought he'd be in the employer's lounge. But he wasn't there."
Specs and Adren waited with looks of concern.
"Before I went to the Lab, I saw my brother talking with two kids."
"Oh no," Specs grimaced, feeling his speculations coming true. "Freckles, reddish-brown hair, chewing on one of those Godiva cigars?"
"Yes."
"Cute little tough guy with puppy-dog eyes and corduroy pants?"
Repeat bit her lip. "Yes."
So it was true. They were recruiting more members. Specs had just described the two known leaders of the group that had troubled him and many other employees back in April. "Jimmy and Aaron," Specs informed. "Otherwise known as Snipeshooter and Boots. It's too late for your brother."
Author's Note: This is Part One of Two of "Bring Your Kids to Work" Day Part II. Why the two parts, you ask? Because two chapters mean double the fun! Sorry, couldn't resist pulling a Jonathan there. Actually, it's only because – by the looks of my scribbled outline – this might be a lengthy episode, so I decided to break it up into two.
I also wanted to get a new chapter out as soon as possible because 1) it's been over a month since the last one, and 2) I wanted to thank everyone who voted in the "Summer Reading List" Fanfiction Awards. Cubicle claimed 2nd Place in Best Summer Comedy and won 1st for Best Dialogue! Again, thank you for voting for this silly story. ;)
I've grown to really like these Snoddy-style high fives, so here comes another round of them to: Acorn, Corky, Polaroid, Repeat, Adren, Eavis, stress, and Song For A Rainy Day! Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. :)