It'sChristmas Eve Day! SeasonsGreetings!

Before we get to the story, I'd like to thank JustVildaPotter for following, favoriting, and reviewing. Thank you!

Disclaimer: Just like last time, I own nothing. Neither Newsies, A Christmas Story, nor Parks and Rec belong to me.

Albert's Major Award

None of the newsies knew where it had come from, but the package had shown up at the Newsboys Lodging House on Duane Street two weeks into December. For the first day after its arrival, the newsies of Lower Manhattan had largely ignored the wooden crate taking up space in the lobby. But by the second day, when no one had come to claim it, the older newsboys knew something had to be done.

Specs and Jack called a meeting that evening. Having been unable to move the box- it had been discovered, because of Romeo, that it was much too heavy to lift- they had everyone congregate around it in the lobby. To make this work, the smaller members of the group sat on top of Mr. Kloppmann's counter, leaving room for anyone taller to stand on the floor. There also ended up being a line of newsies filling the first five steps of the stairs; all of them were required to crane their necks so they could better see what was going on. It took three polite requests from Specs for everyone to be quiet and one order from Jack for everyone to "SHUT UP!", but eventually, the group settled down.

"Alright," announced Jack, patting the wooden crate- currently in a vertical position- with both of his hands. "What we got here's-"

"A box," Specs stated the obvious. "It's a box."

"Uh-uh, it's a mystery."

"A mysterious box, then."

"Fine. We's got a box. So now da question is-"

"We's goin' ta open da box an' see what's inside."

"Specs!" Jack hissed, "We agreed we'd ask all a' dem what ta do wit it."

"You agreed, then started this meetin'. I vetoed yer agreement."

"Why?"

"'Cause they's a bunch a' idiots."

"Hey!" Romeo shouted, "I ain't no idiot!"

Specs told him, "I didn't say you was."

"Yes ya did," said Crutchie. "Ya said, 'they's a bunch a' idiots.'"

"Well, he ain't who I meant."

"Who didja mean?"

At that, Specs turned his head toward Albert and Race, who were standing at the back of the room, squished right up against the counter. When Race saw Specs' eyes had fallen upon him and his redheaded pal, he protested, "Hey, we ain't idiots neither."

"Yeah," Albert agreed. "In fact, we's smarta' than both a' youse. So I says we should get ta open da box."

"Absolutely not." Specs' comment went unheard as Albert shoved his way through the sea of newsies, Race trailing behind him. The pair made their way through the crowd, pushing people until they could stand directly facing the crate.

Pretending to look thoughtful, Albert stroked his chin while he read the thick black label painted on the side of the mystery package. "Fra-GEE-lay," he attempted to sound out the word before turning to Race. "Must be Italian."

Race was part Italian, and as such knew perfectly well that the word "Fragile" was not in fact included in the Italian language. Despite this knowledge, he shrugged and said, "Yep, must be."

"I says da first thing ta do…" Albert announced, patting the top of the box, "is ta open dis baby up."

Together, he and Race physically threw all their weight against the side of the crate, managing to tip it onto its side before Specs could warn them not to. Thankfully, no sounds of the contents inside breaking were heard after this action was performed.

"Alrighty," standing up from where he had fallen over, Race dusted off his hands. "Who's got a crowbar?"

Far too willingly, Jack handed the tool he just so happened to have with him over to the curly-haired boy. Better Race took it than Albert. Between the two of them, the former was going to wreck the least amount of havoc with the metal instrument. It took a few minutes of struggling, but Race eventually forced the box open. All any of the newsies could see after he did so was a great deal of a grass-like substance intended to cushion the contents during delivery.

"There could be anythin' in there!" Albert exclaimed, jumping into the crate. Miraculously, he still had not broken the whatever-it-was that had been delivered. Digging down to the bottom, he threw the packing grass around willy-nilly, sending the little strands into every corner of the lobby. Most of it ended up on top of newsies.

Crutchie spat out a clump of grass, pointing out, "Well, it couldn't be an elephant or nothin'."

Brushing grass out of his hair, Romeo challenged, "Ya sure 'bout that?"

"An elephant ain't fittin' in dere."

"Guess not."

"It ain't no elephant," Albert proclaimed, bending over to lift the object up. "It's betta'."

With that, he lifted the mystery gift onto the edge of the box, and all of the newsies crowded around to get a closer look. It appeared to be nothing more than a plastic leg on a stand, clothing in almost nothing besides a black high-heeled shoe and a stocking that resembled a fishnet.

"Uh, what is it?" Finch wanted to know.

"It's a leg," Sniper informed.

"I know it's a leg."

"Then why'dja ask?"

"Accordin' ta this," said Albert, holding up a little square of paper that had also been inside the crate, "this's a major award."

Smalls questioned, "Maja' award fer what?"

"I dunno, it's a major award!"

"Who gives a leg fer an award?"

Race emerged from a dive within the depths of the packaging, hair and shirt completely covered by the grassy packing stuff. In one of his hands was a silken, tassled lampshade. "It ain't jus' a leg, Smalls," he said, coming around to place the new addition on top of the leg statue. "This here's a lamp."

"That don't stop it from bein' a leg," Specs muttered, "'cept now it's also a lamp."

"Tha's da ugliest lamp I ever seen," Finch insulted. Beside him, Sniper nodded her agreement.

Albert protested, "But it's a major award!"

"Yeah, an' ya know what, Al?" Jack patted him on the back. "Dis award's all yours."

Albert beamed, incorrectly identifying this as something to be proud of. "Hell yeah!" He punched the air, shouting, "It's my major award!"

Said major award proceeded to be set up right in the big window of the main bedroom on the first floor, so that when it was turned on, it could be visible up and down the street. Several of the newsies, particularly Sniper and Smalls, protested this placement. The final decision, however, came down to Jack. He allowed the lamp to stay, because it brought around a load of extra customers. Right around the time the newsies headed out to sell their evening papes, the lamp would be switched on, causing men young and old to flock to the Lodging House so they could admire the view. After four straight days of this, a disgusted Sniper turned the lamp off, not caring that it affected the other newsies' selling prospects. Her efforts, unfortunately, amounted to nothing, because Albert dashed back inside immediately to turn the light back on.

On the day after that, Spot Conlon came over to Manhattan with a few of his boys. As they stood in the middle of the street, taking in the brightness of the leg lamp, Race went out to greet the young king.

Spot waved him over. "So," he remarked, crossing his arms, "this yer secret holiday weapon, is it?"

"Sure is," Race replied.

"Huh," was all Spot had to say to that. The Brooklyn boys only lingered for a few minutes longer, as Jack came out to shoo them away. It wouldn't have been fair to let the biggest borough in the city take advantage of Manhattan's success.

That success, like all good things, was bound to come to an end sooner or later. The only thing was, no one had expected the end to occur so quickly. Not a single one of the newsies paid any attention to the mysterious crash in the middle of the night, but when the morning bell rang, Albert was the first to find the crime scene.

His cry of "Nooooooo!" could be heard throughout every inch of the lodging house, and outdoors on the sidewalks as well.

Spot, who had disobeyed Jack's orders and stayed in Manhattan to take advantage of the lamp anyway, ran into the lobby upon hearing the shout. He found Finch and Race behind the counter, rummaging through drawers. "What happened?"

"Albert's lamp girlfriend was murdered," said Sniper, perched atop the counter. There was no emotion whatsoever in her statement, and she was refraining from helping the two boys with the task they were trying to complete.

Right on cue, Albert bounded down the stairs, demanding, "Race! Finch! Didja find any glue yet?"

Finch shook his head. "We ain't got no glue."

Cursing, Albert turned on Race. "YOU USED ALL THE GLUE, ON PURPOSE!"

"Whoa whoa whoa," warned Spot, preventing Race from being throttled by his best friend. "We can settle dis, plain an' simple. All we need's fer da culprit ta admit dey broke da lamp."

Five minutes later, Spot had rounded up all of the most guilty newsies and brought them upstairs to the scene of the crime. Among the many deemed suspicious were Race, Finch, Sniper, Crutchie, Romeo, and Smalls.

"So," said Spot, glaring around at the semicircle of potential suspects, all of whom were exchanging confused looks. "Who broke it?"

"'Cause whoever it was," Albert threatened, "I'll-"

The rest of that phrase was cut off by Spot, who had to shove the ginger boy down by the head to make him short enough to cover his mouth. As a result, Albert ended up in a headlock. "I'm not mad," Spot continued slowly, making sure his captive didn't wriggle free during the interrogation. "I just wanna know."

There was a moment of confused silence, and then Race stepped forward, saying, "I did. I broke-"

"No," interrupted Spot, "no you didn't. Romeo?"

"Don't look at me," the shorter boy insisted, quickly turning his gaze toward the boy on his right. "Look at Crutchie."

"What?" Crutchie asked, incredulous. "I didn't break it."

"Huh, that's weird," narrowing his eyes in an accusatory way, Romeo stared down Crutchie while also gesturing to the shattered lamp on the floor. "How'dja even know it was broken?"

"Because it's sitting right in front of us, and it's broken."

Romeo bent himself into Crutchie's personal space, causing the other boy to lean backwards with an expression of disgust. "Suspicious."

"No, it's not."

"It it matters," Finch cut in, "prob'ly not, but Smalls was the last one ta go near it."

"Liar!" Smalls shouted, immediately following the accusation. "I don't even like that crappy thing."

Finch looked down at her skeptically. "Oh really, then what were ya doin' by da window earlier?"

"I was waterin' the plant I keep ova' there." Smalls brandished one of her hands. Under her fingernails was an obvious amount of dirt. "Everyone knows that, Finchy."

As those two stared daggers at each other, Race spoke up again. "Okay, let's not fight. I broke it, let me pay for it, Al."

"No!" Spot bellowed before Albert could even try to respond. "Who broke it?"

Glancing at the person next to him, Crutchie offered in a hushed tone, "Spot? Sniper's been awfully quiet-"

"REALLY?" Sniper exclaimed, throwing her head back in disbelief. "Oh my god!"

That was the signal for everyone present to erupt into chaos, with newsies accusing each other this way and that. While the others argued, Spot slipped away into the lobby. At the bottom of the staircase, he ran right into Jack, who had been just about to go up to investigate the commotion.

Off the other boy's concerned look, Spot eagerly explained the situation, and when he had finished, Jack asked, "So, what really happened ta da lamp?"

Straight-faced, Spot admitted, "I broke it. It burned my hand, so I punched it."

Jack crossed his arms. "Tryin' ta steal it, were ya?"

Spot nodded. "I predict ten minutes from now they'll be at each otha's throats wit war paint on deir faces an' a pig head on a stick."

Jack tilted his head toward the floor above, listening for a moment to the argument, which had since grown louder. Visibly trying not to laugh, his only response to Spot was, "Good. It was gettin' a lil' chummy around here."

I had to use that "Who broke it?" scene from Parks and Rec somewhere. I love it so much.

I hope you enjoyed this chaotic short story! Stay tuned for my massive holiday special, Newsies Watching Rudolph, which I will post here tomorrow.

Until then, thank you for reading, and leave a review if you don't mind!