Author's note: Yeah, this is probably the stupidest thing I've ever written in my life (save the "Bugs Bunny Meets the Little Mermaid" story I wrote when I was seven), but it made me crack a smile when I was done. Anywho, it kinda doesn't make any sense, it's just random words that ran through my mind and out of my finger tips. I hope you enjoy, and if not, just pretend you did and make my day!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Great Spot Conlon, nor poor widdle Spot neither. For that matter, I don't own Jack nor his red bandana. *thinks for a moment* But I do own Wally the Hobo!
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One day, the Great Spot Conlon of Brooklyn woke up and said, "I don't think I feel like being the leader of Brooklyn no more," before leaping out of his king-size bunk and using his trusty slingshot to knock down a row of empty beer bottles (those newsies are such drunks) that were lined up ever so neatly on the windowsill. "Brooklyn-- I mean, Manhattan," he yelled as the last bottle smashed into a thousand peices (which was odd since he hadn't shot at that one yet) and he pulled together all of his belongings into one big heap. Spot then piled all of his stuff on top of the red bandana he now owned (having stolen it from Jack the last time had had the urge to be in Manhattan) and tied the bandana pack to a stick, just as he had seen Wally the Hobo (the one who lived under the Brooklyn Bridge) do.
After Spot was ready to say goodbye to Brooklyn, he decided to walk over the Bridge (taking only five minutes to do so -- remember, he is the Great Spot Conlon) and enter Manhattan. But Jack's faithful pal, Crutchy, the gimp who was still able to walk when it came to a rousing song and dance number, chased him out of town, waving his wooden crutch like a madman. It seemed that the Manhattanites were still a little sore at him. Well, how was anyone, even the Great Spot Conlon, to know that the only reason Jack wore his red bandana was to keep his head attached to his head so that none of his "good ideas" leaked out?
Anywho, when Spot realized that he wasn't welcome in Manhattan, even though they did need a new leader now, Spot began to head back to Brooklyn. But when he arrived there four minutes later (beating his previous record of five - Go Spot, Go Spot...) he saw that all, and I mean all -- even the 1/2 naked newsie from the docks! -- of Brooklyn were doing "victory jigs" since he had left -- even all the millions of girls (and some guys) that adored him and kissed the ground he walked on!
Poor widdle Spot...
Poor widdle Spot was so upset that that he threw his hobo stick to the ground, held his nose and jumped over the edge of the Brooklyn Bridge.
But it didn't kill him, noooooooooooo... I mean even if he is Poor widdle Spot, he still was the Great Spot Conlon after all! Instead of killing him, the jump turned him into a handsome mermaid. He later married Sebastian, the talking crab, because-- well, because Sebastian told him to!
Anyways, there the Great Spot Con-fish remained until the day he was caught, cooked and chewed by Wally the Hobo.
But that's another story...
