"I am woman, hear me roar!" Sang Dutchy as he ran down the street, in nothing but a pair of lacey panties and a d-cup stuffed bra. He stopped in front of the newsies for a brief moment to smile and wait for his surefire applause. To his dissapointment, the Newsies just shook their heads and clucked. Unfortunately, that made Jake turn into a chicken.
"Would you stop clucking, Jake?" Jack cried. "I'm trying ta think up 999 creative ways to kill Sarah! I'll never get it done at this point!"
Jake stopped, looked up at Jack with a puzzled face, and started clucking again.
Jack sighed. "Please Jake?" No response. "Damn. Could somebody just put a sock into this chicken's mouth?"
Kid Blink shot him a horrified look. "But Jack . . . that's no regular chicken, it's Jake!"
Jack glared in Blink's direction. "No, Blink. A chicken, to me, is only a chicken--no matter who it used to be. And dere is no excuse for interrupting my evil thoughts about Sarah's death. Now take off yoah sock, and stick it in dat damn chicken's mouth."
Blink's eyes were watering, but he reluctantly slipped off his shoe, and peeled off his sweaty sock. Wincing slightly, he stuffed it in Jake's--or formerly Jake's--beak.
The chicken formerly known as Jake glared up at Blink with cold eyes, and rebelliously spit the sock out at him.
Jack gasped in horror. "Why, I nevah! What're we gonna do about dis chicken?"
Itey chimed in, "Well, I bet there's some way ta get rid a him--I mean, he can't just go clucking around here forever!
Racetrack's eyes suddenly lit up. "I got an idea--HEY, KLOPPY! GOT ANUDDA ONE!"
"HHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Kloppman screamed, as he ran in with a butcher knife and cut Jake's head off.
"Tanks!" smiled Race, as he tossed Kloppman two magically appearing bits. ((AN: get it? magically appearing bits? at the distribution office, Racetrack needs to be spotted two bits, and then he spots jack two bits a second later . . . ))
Luckily for Race, Kloppman was just a bit too old, so as he tried to wheeze a last, "You're welcome!", he had a fatal heart attack and sropped dead at Race's feet. Smirking, Race bent over and took back his two bits.
Unfortunately, Jake was running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, (maybe because he was. . . ) and stole the two bits back.
Racetrack was about to smack Jake--ahhhhemm, the CHICKEN--and take back his money, when suddenly a gypsy man with a southern accent approached them. He grinned widely with his murky teeth and swooped the chicken up into his arms, yelling "That's my horse!". Opening his mouth widely, he proceeded to stick Ja--errrr, the chicken into it, and ate it in one chomp. He whooped a few times, and then rode off into the sunset on a spare chicken bone that got caught on his moustache. Racetrack snatched the two bits off the ground where they lay, crying out triumphantly. But, to his dismay . . .
It wormed free of his hand, jumped up onto his head, and started tap dancing to "It's all for the best", from Godspell. Soon the boys were clapping, singing, and dancing with the coin, until it pulled out a machine gun and shot Jack in the head.
"Hey!" Mush screamed. "Now he wont be able to tell us our 999 creative ways to kill Sarah! You shall DIE! Newsies, attack!"
The newsies snarled, and several of them pulled out slingshots in attempts to look frightening. "Charge!" a lone voice cryed out from the crowd, and the newsies did so. But right as the very first newsie was about to reach the coin, an unexpected bolt of lightening struck down from the clear sky and burned the coin to a crisp.
Kid Blink put it's ashes in a cardboard box, and they had a memorial service for it. They all cried, and wore black gowns and veils for a year. After all, losing the coin was like losing their mother--for their mothers loved to tap dance to godspell songs and shoot machine guns in their spare time. But as soon as the year had passed, they all went back to sitting in the lodging house on Snitch's bed with colorful clothing on, and although it was slightly crowded, they were giddy with excitement. Why? Because Nordstroms was having a great sale on shoes!
"Oooh!" cried Itey. "And I, like, want thothe cute little oneth that, like, have the leopard print, and, like, come with matching pantieth! Like, totally gorgeouth!"
They all giggled at the thought of a pair of new shoes with matching panties. They would all have to go buy some right away.
"I like the gogo boots that have the rhinestones on top, and say, Newsie Power, in little lights on them!" Admitted Boots.
"Ooooohhhhhh!" They all oohed.
"I have a confession to make." mumbled Racetrack. "I bought a pair of red high heels at. . . . . . SEARS!"
The newsies screamed and gasped.
"No. . . NO!" cried Snitch, giving Race the evil sign.
"Wait! Wait! It's not as bad as you think!" Racetrack yelled above the ruckus. "They were for my dog."
"Oh." chorused the Newsies. No respectable Newsie bought themselves shoes at Sears. Everyone knows that Nordstroms is the best.
"I'm going to get the shiny pink high tops!" stated Snoddy.
Oooh, PINK! thought Crutchy. I like pink. And daisies, and bras, and my barbie dolls! I'll never ever give them up. They're so fun to dress up, and pull up their hair, and take with you to sleepovers! Ooooh! I want to get mine a new brush! And maybe a silver handbag, and a pretty hair ribbon! I could also use some new, lipstick, I'll get that when I'm out.
Just then, a Giant Rare Asian Pear Monster Pig Goat With Rabies and a special disease that makes him say "Woogiewoogiewu! Ruggiewuggiepookiepoo! Jhubbajhubbajhubbablooparoo! I love you, toodlededoo!" every minute crashed through the ceiling.
"Woogiewoogiewu!" it giggled. "Ruggiewuggiepookiepoo! Jhubbajhubbajhubbablooparoo! I love you, toodlededoo!" and it disappeared.
The newsies exchanged slightly strange looks as they sat in the rubble. Slowly but quickly, their world whisked away, transporting them to New York City, 2002.
As Swifty stepped out onto the street to get a better look around, there was a wish, a bam, a thud, a kerplunk, a pfft, a woogiewoogie, a plop, a tinkle, a chord, a symphony, a ping, a tap, a whisper, a ring, a crash, a pifffffffffffff, and a klhoisnskehrtuhknmmmmmmmmmplrft as he got ran over by a semi.
"Observe, men!" Shouted Davey. "Take note of this as something not to do!"
The newsies looked down at Swifty, stuck out their toungues, went "PPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTT!!!", and left.
"Obviously, we have been morphed into the year 2002, because of the American dress code, the inflation in currency, the economic marketing strategies, and the giant sign that says "It is the year 2002" on it." stated Boots, suddenly appearing in a sherlock Holmes outfit, as he held a magnifying glass up to his eye.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Screamed Snitch, as he fell to the ground and died.
The newsies look over at Davey, who then replied, "This, my friends, is another thing not to do- be year 2002 intolerant."
"Oh." ohed the newsies, as they played a game of kick-the-Snitch-into-the-dumpster. It was invigorating, and very fun. Unfortunately, it made them hungry, so they decided that action must be taken--they must eat!
"Let me see," pondered Snipes, looking through the newsies pretty pink plastic purses. "All together we have. . . 59 cents! We can share two gumballs."
The newsies all agreed to this wonderful idea, nodding their heads enthusiastically. They loved sharing gum. They all think it tastes better chewed up. As they took turns chewing gumballs, Snipes- who had come up with the idea in the first place- choked and died.
"Another death of an "S" name newsie," David observed. They must have. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . THE DOOMED-NEWSIE-WITH-A-NAME-THAT-STARTS-WITH-AN-"S"-DISEASE!"
The newsies gasped in horror.
"The doomed-newsie-with-a-name-that-starts-with-an-"S"-disease?" quoted the newsies.
"No, you have to include capitalization, as in. . ." Davey drifted off.
"As in what?" peeped Les.
"THE DOOMED-NEWSIE-WITH-A-NAME-THAT-STARTS-WITH-AN-
"S"-DISEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" David screamed, blasting the eardrums out of everybody in New York.
As David ran out to play in all of the eardrums that were falling at a rapid rate from the sky, the other newsies started screaming at him, but none of them could hear because they had no eardrums.
Suddenly, the evil olive munchy jumped out of the bushes and gave all the eardrums back.
"Thanks," said Racetrack. "If it wasn't for you, I would eat toast."
The evil olive munchy glared at Racetrack and looked mean. It opened its little mouth and growled, "I've eaten toast . . . YOUR MOM'S toast!"
Race's face turned from admiration to sadness- he was deeply hurt by the insensitive comment the evil olive munchy made. His lip began to tremble and tears welled up in his eyes. Suddenly his eyes turned into fireballs.
"NO! YOU'RE MEAN!!!!!" Racetrack hissed. He pulled from his coat . . . A PIECE OF TOAST!
The newsies all gasped.
He raised it slowly up to his mouth.
"DON'T DO IT!!!!!!" shouted Blink, fear taking over his face.
Racetrack smiled and said "I like bunnies anyway." He popped the toast into his mouth and exploded.
After the Racetrack debris settled, David glared at the evil olive munchy. He liked playing in the ear drums, and the evil olive munchy had stopped him. And he liked Race. David made up his mind- the evil olive munchy shall DIE.
The evil olive munchy danced an evil dance. He shouted "I'LL GRIND YOUR BONES TO MAKE MY BREAD!!!!"
"Not so fast, Mr.Munchy!" came a deep voice behind him. The evil olive munchy shook as he turned around slowly.
"N-n-n-n-no! I-i-it can't be! It's . . . " he stuttered ((for it takes an orphan with one)).
"Yes!!!" cried the figure, revealing himself. "It is I, CAPTAIN DAVEY THE PRETTY RABBIT!"
The newsies gasped. It was Davey, but wearing a superman suit, with muscles, and with . . . with . . .
"Bunny ears?!?!?" Exclaimed Blink, unable to hold back a laugh. "Dave, what the . . . I mean, you look. . . positively goofy!"
Davey- errrrrr, captain davey the pretty rabbit- glowered at Blink. "No, Kid Blink, you don't understand. I have transformed into Captain Davey the Pretty Rabbit to slay the evil olive munchy!!!!!"
"Ohhhhh!" said Blink, suddenly looking very serious. "I understand."
Davey turned his glower to meet the face of the evil olive munchy. "You have killed Racetrack, and you have deprived me of ear drums, the OTHER other white meat. That's bad. BAD evil olive munchy!"
Davey pulled out a gun that was loaded with the deadliest things of all time- DOILIES. He dramatically pulled it up, and pulled the trigger. As soon as the doily landed on the evil olive munchy, both dissapeared. They all knew where they had gone. It was the fate of any evil olive munchy touched by a doily. He had been sent to be hit by frozen breakfast sausages for the rest of his life. The newsies all shuddered.
Spot appeared from behind the lamppost. "I have come to whack you with a dead fish!" he exclaimed, smiling, holding a dripping wet salmon in his hand. He looked around at the odd looks he was getting from the other newsies. "What?????" he asked looking rather confused.
Mush just raised his eyebrows and shook his head.
The salmon looked at Mush pathetically "I know. There's just no end, is there." He was one of the only ones who understood.
Mush though over the options. Salmons are tasty, yummy and nice, and this one talks too. But, did Mush really want a salmon as his best friend???? He chewed the thought over, and then decided. He would do the only sensible thing to do. Stand there and let Spot whack him with the fish.
Itey glanced hungrily in Spot's direction. His mouth watered as he thought of a juicy, lemony salmon fillet . . .
The fish turned to Itey. "Run run run, as fast as you can, but I'll stay here because I'm a fish." it croaked.
To be Continued. . .