Chaos. I don't know how else to describe it. Screams, a wild frenzy of
action as two races mingled, nightsticks beating mercilessly down on the
blacks. Then.
Pain shot through my leg as a woman's white handbag connected with my knee. My legs buckled, and I fell, clutching both knees.
"You leave my boyfriend alone," Tracy screamed. I wanted to hold her, kiss her for being so brave. I wanted to laugh as she screwed up her face and spat at my assaulter. I did nothing but lie there for a moment. The great Link Larkin was helpless.
"Police brutality!! Police brutality!" Tracy yelled. I wanted to join her. I guess I wanted a lot of things that I didn't get.
"TRACY!" I screamed finally, dragging myself through the angry mob. "Tracy!" I yelled as if I had a chance of her hearing. By some miracle, she did.
"Link! Link! Link! Link! Help me!" she hollered as she was manhandled-or woman handled, either way, I was burning with anger--. I think those words hurt the most. I loved her, and the one time she needed help, I couldn't do a thing. "Police brutality!" those were the last words I heard from her before the police closed the doors, blocking any contact I had with her.
"Hey, let her go!" I shouted, but to no avail. "Tracy!" Crawl a little more. "Tracy!" As if she could hear me. "Traaacccyyyyy!" my yell drifted to the wind, before my body was sapped of energy, and I passed out.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, with reporters swarming by my bed.
"Anything you'd like to say to the media, Mr. Larkin?" one reporter asked me. Obviously, I was some big deal because I was connected to Tracy. I nodded slowly. The reporter pointed to a camera. I pulled myself up, wincing, and looked straight into the camera.
"I love you, Tracy," I said emotion clogging my throat. And I did. I was a popular dancer on the Corny Collins Show who happened to fall in love with a big girl with an even bigger heart. "And I'm sorry, Trace, that I wasn't there for you." I continued talking, when the reporter cleared his throat.
"Mr. Larkin, Miss. Turnblad is a lucky girl, but I'm sorry, we only got the beginning," he said quietly. I nodded, subdued.
"Mr. Larkin? You're clear to check out," the doctor said. I smiled in acknowledgement, and made my way to the Autoshow.
"The winner is Miss. Tracy Turnblad." The (expected) announcement was greeted by wild applause and cheers. I pushed myself out of my chair, and raised my fist in a gesture of triumph. Then came the blow. The judges had found Tracy ineligible, being in stupid reform school and all. My hands clamped over my ears, my heart hammering, as my fears were confirmed. Amber had won. Amber flashed me a smile that once made me feel like the luckiest man on earth, but now disgusted me. As she sashayed to receive her award, I openly cried.
Next I knew, screams and wild applause flew up. These were undoubtedly saved for Tracy, so could it be possible? Sure enough, Tracy danced up to me. Her hair was flat and straight. You couldn't believe how happy I was. I grabbed her hands, mainly to assure myself that she was actually there, and also to help me up. I kissed her. As she stood beside Corny, I applauded wildly next to her, beaming from ear to ear. She left, only to come out in a flowing pink gown covered in.bugs? She felt like dancing.what else?
The Bug.
I jumped in, but the intense pain flowing through my knees caused me to clutch them, pause, but continue to dance. Everyone danced. Seaweed and Penny danced, but nobody seemed to mind. Suddenly, Velma Von Tussle's hair exploded. It's sounds odd, but I don't know how else to describe it. Velma and Franklin were led away, and Amber sat screaming as the charred, makeshift wig landed on her head. Served her right, I guess.
A bomb. I stared incredulously at the object. Okay, I thought the Von Tussles were a little.crazy.but this was the icing on the cake. If their baby Amber didn't win, was the bomb meant for Tracy? My grip tightened around her, as her gaze followed mine. I felt her shake slightly at the explosion, but there wasn't any time for a reaction.
"Let's DANCE!" Tracy exclaimed, her eyes bright, a smile lighting her features.
Pain shot through my leg as a woman's white handbag connected with my knee. My legs buckled, and I fell, clutching both knees.
"You leave my boyfriend alone," Tracy screamed. I wanted to hold her, kiss her for being so brave. I wanted to laugh as she screwed up her face and spat at my assaulter. I did nothing but lie there for a moment. The great Link Larkin was helpless.
"Police brutality!! Police brutality!" Tracy yelled. I wanted to join her. I guess I wanted a lot of things that I didn't get.
"TRACY!" I screamed finally, dragging myself through the angry mob. "Tracy!" I yelled as if I had a chance of her hearing. By some miracle, she did.
"Link! Link! Link! Link! Help me!" she hollered as she was manhandled-or woman handled, either way, I was burning with anger--. I think those words hurt the most. I loved her, and the one time she needed help, I couldn't do a thing. "Police brutality!" those were the last words I heard from her before the police closed the doors, blocking any contact I had with her.
"Hey, let her go!" I shouted, but to no avail. "Tracy!" Crawl a little more. "Tracy!" As if she could hear me. "Traaacccyyyyy!" my yell drifted to the wind, before my body was sapped of energy, and I passed out.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, with reporters swarming by my bed.
"Anything you'd like to say to the media, Mr. Larkin?" one reporter asked me. Obviously, I was some big deal because I was connected to Tracy. I nodded slowly. The reporter pointed to a camera. I pulled myself up, wincing, and looked straight into the camera.
"I love you, Tracy," I said emotion clogging my throat. And I did. I was a popular dancer on the Corny Collins Show who happened to fall in love with a big girl with an even bigger heart. "And I'm sorry, Trace, that I wasn't there for you." I continued talking, when the reporter cleared his throat.
"Mr. Larkin, Miss. Turnblad is a lucky girl, but I'm sorry, we only got the beginning," he said quietly. I nodded, subdued.
"Mr. Larkin? You're clear to check out," the doctor said. I smiled in acknowledgement, and made my way to the Autoshow.
"The winner is Miss. Tracy Turnblad." The (expected) announcement was greeted by wild applause and cheers. I pushed myself out of my chair, and raised my fist in a gesture of triumph. Then came the blow. The judges had found Tracy ineligible, being in stupid reform school and all. My hands clamped over my ears, my heart hammering, as my fears were confirmed. Amber had won. Amber flashed me a smile that once made me feel like the luckiest man on earth, but now disgusted me. As she sashayed to receive her award, I openly cried.
Next I knew, screams and wild applause flew up. These were undoubtedly saved for Tracy, so could it be possible? Sure enough, Tracy danced up to me. Her hair was flat and straight. You couldn't believe how happy I was. I grabbed her hands, mainly to assure myself that she was actually there, and also to help me up. I kissed her. As she stood beside Corny, I applauded wildly next to her, beaming from ear to ear. She left, only to come out in a flowing pink gown covered in.bugs? She felt like dancing.what else?
The Bug.
I jumped in, but the intense pain flowing through my knees caused me to clutch them, pause, but continue to dance. Everyone danced. Seaweed and Penny danced, but nobody seemed to mind. Suddenly, Velma Von Tussle's hair exploded. It's sounds odd, but I don't know how else to describe it. Velma and Franklin were led away, and Amber sat screaming as the charred, makeshift wig landed on her head. Served her right, I guess.
A bomb. I stared incredulously at the object. Okay, I thought the Von Tussles were a little.crazy.but this was the icing on the cake. If their baby Amber didn't win, was the bomb meant for Tracy? My grip tightened around her, as her gaze followed mine. I felt her shake slightly at the explosion, but there wasn't any time for a reaction.
"Let's DANCE!" Tracy exclaimed, her eyes bright, a smile lighting her features.