Blaze and Pixy awoke early, took what little money they had, and left to buy food. They were determined that Spot would have a hearty breakfast to build up his energy, and a small lunch so he wouldn't be weighed down.
Spot awoke to the smell of good food, stuff he never got, bacon, eggs and French toast. He quickly got dressed and followed his nose to the small kitchen, to find all four girls hard at work, cooking what looked to be a small feast.
"And what is the occasion for all this fine food?"
"You're the occasion, silly," Blaze said, "All the boys pitched in before they left, don't worry, they'll be back by eleven, or I'll know why, and the girls and I made you a good breakfast and are currently preparing your post-fight feast. Now sit down, I gotta check the ham."
Spot sat at the table and Pixy brought him is food, "Don't eat too fast or you'll get a stomach ache, it's all yours and it ain't going no where." She lectured him as she set his large breakfast in front of him.
As they promised, everyone (including the five Spot had chose from his Brooklyn newsies) was back by eleven and after saying goodbye and food luck, they let the twelve newsies go, while the others prepared for the feast.
Spot and Jack walked in front of everyone, leading the way. Once they got about a block away, they stopped and Spot said what might be his last words to the group.
"If I lose, I don't want any of you to feel guilty. I want to do this, it is my choice, you haven't forced me into this. Thank you for everything and I'll see y'all back at the Lodging House for the wonderful feast." Then, one by one, the boys spitshook, and had their final words, with Spot, and after each was done he set off to become part of the circle forming by the Bridge. Blaze was the last person in line and she and Spot were left alone.
"I love you Blaze," Spot told her, speaking from his heart. "I love you too, Spot." Blaze said, but Spot knew she didn't mean it like he meant it, she loved him as a best friend, he loved her like no one else. He looked at her, smiled, and quickly kissed her on the lips. Then they left for the fight that would determine history and talked about by newsies everywhere, forever.
Spot walked into the large ring that had been formed and Blaze filled in the last gap.
"It's a deal, Drake," Spot started," no weapons, no interference by your boys or mine, unless the bulls come, then it is a time out, just you against me, till one of us dies." Spot and the Drake spitshook and the fight began.
They circled each other for a few moments, then the Drake feinted to the left, then rushed in to the right, then jumped back at the last second. After a few more such moves, Spot realized the Drake's fighting style had changed to feint and rush, never getting in too close. This was a problem for Spot, because if he kept to his ground he might be caught the first time the Drake followed through, but if he let the Drake drive him all over the ring he'd be worn out; either way, Spot lost. Then Spot realized the Drake was trying to get the sun in his eyes, so he let the Drake think he was succeeding, then suddenly he lunged at the Drake so the Drake's eyes were in the sun.
Then Spot lunged again, punching the Drake first in the stomach, then in the eye, and the Drake fell down. This made the Drake angry and he lunged for Spot, but Spot stepped away at the last moment and the Drake fell again. Spot pounced on him, but the Drake tossed him off, then he turned around and swung at Spot but Spot ducked and the Drake missed. Spot landed two more punches before the Drake hit him so hard on the shoulder that he fell down. Then the Drake leaped on him, punching him in e stomach and nose before Spot could get up.
They circled each other, both bleeding from wounds inflicted by the other and being thrown on the ground. The Drake charged again and Spot tripped him, but the Drake caught himself and leaped upon Spot, catching him off guard. The Drake kicked Spot's leg, which started to bleed and Spot punched his nose, breaking it.
Spot started back to the other side of the ring, where it wasn't so bloody. Suddenly, the Drake leaped on Spot's back and Spot threw the Drake over his head, using a trick he had learned from his Chinese friend in Midtown. The Drake flew through the air and landed on his head and neck with a crack. The Drake didn't move, and slowly, cautiously, Spot limped to where he lay. When the Drake still didn't move, Spot felt for a pulse. There was none.
"The Drake is dead," Spot yelled, then he passed out.
