Hi, hello, I live. I'm sure youse were very worried.

I'm gonna respond to a review, then I'll get into introducing this one-shot.

JustVildaPotter: Thank you, thank you very much. I greatly appreciate those newspaper reviews.

Now, I've gotta credit newsies_ismy_personality on Instagram for having this idea and encouraging me to write it when I said I'd like to. So thanks!

And finally, this is a super random short story that I'm not even sure what the point was, so please don't ask, just enjoy.

Quick warning that there's a couple swear words in here, if anyone cares about that.

Okay, have fun!

Slingshotz

"I can't believe yer makin' me do this."

"C'mon Snipes, y'know I'd do the same fer you. Besides, you partnered with me in the first place."

Sniper rolled her eyes as if that was a complete lie. Really, she couldn't argue; she had in fact chosen to be Finch's partner for that month's English class assignment. As one half of a pair of best friends, it was her duty to work with him. Rules according to the law.

"Alright," Sniper adjusted the cheap video camera Finch had purchased just today using three month's salary from Jacobi's. It was actually pretty classy, he'd picked up one of those tripod things too. "Whenever you're ready, Finchy."

He nodded, perfected the stack of styrofoam cups he'd been making, then turned to face the camera. "Okay, Slingshotz with a Z, take one, action!"

"We really gonna need multiple takes here?"

"Action!"

"Rolling."

"Hey y'all, I'm Finch Cortes, and this is Slingshotz." Sniper snickered from behind the lens. Since the idea had first been proposed she'd been skeptical of the name, said it was stupid. Finch hadn't cared about her opinion then, and he remained unfazed now. "That's with a Z, just so's youse know, and- Can it, Sniper!- this here's a show where we see how far, how fast, and how well I can shoot my shot- Oh, just cut!"

Sniper, dying of laughter on the floor, did not have the ability to cut, so Finch walked straight to the camera, removed it from the tripod, and turned it round to point at his best friend. "My lovely camerawoman, as you can see, is well... incapacitated at the moment. But-" he turned the camera again and set it back in place- "the show must go on, right? So, here we go.

"I'm here at Jacobi's Diner, in good ol' Manhattan an' he told me I could use it if I did free advertisin' for 'im so... come buy a seltzer or some shit. Or don't. It's pretty expensive, and not worth yer money. But uh... anyway."

As Finch moved across the room and readied his slingshot, Sniper composed herself. Rising from the floor, she slipped a notebook out of her pocket, in which she made a tally of the first of many curse words they would need to ask Specs to edit out later.

"Countdown please, Sniper," Finch requested. He was now kneeling on the floor with his elbows on top of the table, slingshot locked and loaded. To the camera, he added, "I'mma knock down this cup tower."

"On three," Sniper said, holding up her middle trio of fingers. "One." She put down her pointer finger. "Two." Ring finger down, so only the middle one remained. With this one she pointed at Finch. "And three!"

"Real mature, Snipes."

"Thank you."

And Finch took the shot. The rock he fired sailed across the room, smack into the cup at the very top of the stack.

...And only the top cup, which went right to the floor, but didn't take any of the others with it.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" Finch roared, slamming his hand on the table.

"And cut."

"And we're back with Slingshotz, special guest episode, take four. Action!"

"I still don't understand exactly what I'm s'posed ta do."

Sniper didn't bother calling cut this time. She left the camera rolling and backed up next to her girlfriend.

"Albert, how many damn times do we gotta explain it?" groaned Finch, lowering his slingshot. "For fuck's sake, it ain't that hard."

"Honestly Allie-boy, you's worse than Racer right now," Smalls remarked from her perch on top of a table, where she'd been acting as the show's audience for the last hour.

"Shuddup Smalls. I don't even wanna be 'ere."

"Clearly."

"An' you could see how much worse Racer'd be if he'd bother ta get free time!" Albert's protest very nearly bordered on whining.

"Aw, is Allie-boy jealous?" Sniper teased, knowing full well Albert was pissed about Race spending all his time in Brooklyn since he and Spot had started dating.

"I ain't," Albert pouted, crossing his arms. "Race an' Spot are gross and annoyin', tha's all."

"Oh, that's real convincing," said Finch sarcastically. He grabbed an apple from a bowl on the table, walked over and shoved it into Albert's hand. "C'mon now, business time. This apple, on yer head, I shoot it off. Got it?"

"It ain't gonna balance on my head."

"Yes it is, don' be a baby. Just because Racer ain't around you twenty-four/seven don't mean you gotta make it everyone else's problem." At this, both Sniper and Smalls exchanged a skeptical look with the camera.

"Why don'tcha get Smalls ta do it?" was Albert's next complaint.

Smalls explained, "Because Finch'd take any chance ta shoot my head off."

"Well that would be interestin' fer da project, wouldn't it?"

"You volunteerin'?" Finch wanted to know, pointing his slingshot at Albert's forehead.

"Betcha ten bucks ya can't knock me out cold from this close."

Finch paused a minute to give Albert a what-the-actual-hell look. By the time that minute was up, Al was on the floor, somehow knocked out by the apple rolling on the floor next to him. Sniper, looking suspicious, took a bite out of a different apple and said nothing as to whether she'd thrown the other one or not.

Smalls hopped off the table, knelt next to Albert, and dug through his pockets, eventually coming out with ten dollars. "Guess we know who's payin' fer dinner tonight."

"Last time we're tryin' this, I swear ta god... Slingshotz: the midnight hours, project's due tomorrow mornin' so let's get it done, take ten. Action!"

"Was there really no other place you could do this?" asked Specs, coming into view of the camera.

"Specky, please," Finch begged, "Jacobi kicked us out."

"Alright, alright. Just be careful, will ya?"

Ike assured, "Specky-boy, relax. We ain't gonna hurt yer little boyfriend."

"He's not my- Never mind."

"Seriously, don't worry," Mike told him, "he's even excited ta do this, ain'tcha Romeo?" He tapped the spinning wheel contraption the younger boy was currently secured to.

"Um..." Romeo hesitated. "Well see, I was, but now I'm not so sure- ahhhhhh!"

"And with that word from our sponsor, the boys of Duane Street," Smalls announced loudly enough to be heard over the screams of Romeo, whom she had sent whirling around in circles. "Let's get this party started!"

"Why did I ever agree to this." Specs retreated to the couch where Henry, Elmer, Buttons, and Jojo were already sitting, sharing a bucket of popcorn and observing the show.

"Okay Finchy, you set up?" Sniper called, quickly getting a nod in answer. "Mike? Ike?"

The twins took their positions directly behind Romeo, placing apples atop their heads. "Ready!"

"And set!"

"Annie-" Sniper pointed at Smalls- "count us down, yeah?"

"Uh... one!" Smalls gave the wheel another spin, Romeo made a screeching noise that burst the eardrums of everyone present, and Finch took his shot.

The bouncy ball he was using this time sped straight through the gap between Romeo's splayed out legs, which were above his head at just the moment that Finch had anticipated. And as expected, the apple on Mike's head got knocked off. Then, the ball bounced off the kitchen cupboard behind Mike, flew over Ike's apple, over Romeo's terrified face (now at the top position again), and ended up back where it had started. Well, more or less.

Thankfully, Finch managed not to swallow the little sphere as it hit his mouth, but the shock of catching it between his teeth knocked him all the way to the ground.

There was an awkward moment of what all present imagined to be silence (of course, Romeo was still making noise). After that had passed, everyone started laughing, because they'd gotten the entertainment they had come for. The others occupied themselves with checking on as well as ridiculing Finch, and Sniper, unnoticed by any of them, stopped filming.

One week later, the completed film was presented to the entire class. Finch hadn't had any part in the editing of the thing, so he was of course eager to see how it turned out. Knowing this, and that Finch expected to see a masterpiece of his own creation, one can imagine his surprise when the opening credits were projected across the 's

The title read: Slingshotz: A Beautiful Train Wreck, by An Idiot. As if that wasn't enough, the whole video was a collection of worst mishaps in his attempts to show off for the world. The class was rolling in their seats within the first minute.

"I hate you very much," Finch informed his best friend as the room around them filled with chuckles.

She shrugged. "You made me do this."

As I said before... Not quite sure what the point of this is. It's just a thing that exists now.

If you spotted a typo, feel free to let my know because I was too tired to go through and edit properly.

And regardless of if you see typos or not, I'd really appreciate if you left a review telling me your thoughts.

Thanks, and I'll see you the next time I'm proving I'm not dead!