Note from Author: Yeah, I know this probably doesn't resemble anything I've
written before, but I was getting so boggled down in all my drama fics that
I had to write something insanely stupid. If you want me to write in a
certain actor from the movie, just tell me and I'll do my best!
Disclaimer: Okay, obviously I do not own any of the characters because they are real people. Yes, I am poking fun of them but I still love them all very much--well, most of them. Read, review and enjoy my twisted rendition of
AUDITIONS FOR NEWSIES
GABRIEL DAMON: THE MUSE
::Location: 1991 in an airy room on the bottom level of a building in the Universal Studios lot. Behind a fold out table sits Kenny Ortega and random others. Miscellaneous sheets of paper and 8 x 10 headshots adorn the tabletop.::
Ortega: All right, send the next kid in.
::Door opens. Gabriel Damon cautiously shuffles in, his eyes darting about the room. He halts in the middle of the room in front of the table.::
Ortega: Hi, there, please state your name!
Gabe (staring warily around room): Uh-are these the auditions for Little Nemo: Return to Slumberland?
::Ortega and random people exchange glances.::
Ortega: Little what? No, these are auditions for the new Disney musical spectacular Newsies!
Gabe (bewildered): Um, I think I should go. Now.
::Ortega leaps off of chair and comes around front of table, banging hip on edge and causing headshots to fall to the ground. Grabs Gabe before he can rush out door. Places arm around his shoulder. ::
Ortega: Leave, now? Nonsense! I have a vision.
Gabe: A vision?
Ortega (dramatically, placing his head closer to Gabe's and waving his arm in front of him with a flourish): As I was sleeping one night, a dream came to me. A vision!
Random others: A vision!
Ortega: God told me that I was to create a new musical that would be the end all be all of musicals! (releases Gabe and hops onto table) Take what I created in Dirty Dancing and add-
Random others: Yes? Yes?
Ortega: PELVIC THRUSTS!
::Ortega proceeds to demonstrate. Random others erupt into coos and applause. Gabe stands absolutely befuddled.::
Ortega (jumping off table and returning to Gabe): You! You will be part of that vision! Oh, a higher presence told me that my Spot Conlon was going to work through that door right now. And here you are! Spot Conlon!
::Ortega bows as others shower him in claps and whistles.::
Ortega (wiping imaginary tears away): Yes, yes I know. I am a genius. And this man right her shall be my muse. My SPOT CONLON!
::Ortega takes exaggerated bows and others are in passionate hysterics.::
Ortega (clapping hands together and hurdling table, returning to seat and folding hands): So, what is your name?
Gabe (slowly) Gabriel Da-
Ortega: NO!
Gabe: No?
Ortega (pounding fist on table): No you are not Gabriel Day! You are Spot Conlon!
Gabe: Spot Conlon?
Ortega: YES!
Gabe: Who the fuck is Spot Conlon?
Ortega: YOU!
Gabe: Me?
Ortega: YES! YOU are Spot Conlon! YOU are the fearless leader of Brooklyn.
Gabe (panning the crowd at the table): Okay, I get it. Where's the hidden camera? Is this some trick or something?
::People at table break out into murmurs and exchange glances.::
Ortega: Of course not. What would make you think that?
Gabe (regarding them with a wild grin as he backs away): Okay, well, I really gotta be going-Little Nemo calls my name.
::Gabe turns for door yet Ortega leaps over table, and slams his back against door, blocking Gabe.::
Ortega (pleading): Wait, Spot, don't go, please.
Gabe (fury beginning to taint his voice): I am not Spot-
Ortega: Please, don't go yet, Spot. Just a few more questions?
Gabe (bellowing): I AM NOT SPOT!
Ortega: All right, Spot. Will you stay if I call you Gabriel?
Gabe: HELLO! Gabriel IS my name.
Ortega (incredulously): All right. If its one of those weird fetishes like people have I'll call you by a different name, Spot.
Gabe: GABRIEL!
Ortega (returning to table): Fine, GABRIEL, if that's what you want to be called. (to others at table) Weird kid. Really weird. (to Gabe, bright and sunny) So, hi Gabriel! Please come away from the door and stand near the middle of the table to we can all get a good look at you!
::Gabe, furious, begrudgingly positions himself where Ortega commanded::
Ortega: So, Sp-Gabriel. Tell us a little about yourself.
Gabe: I WAS on my way to an audition for Little Nemo: Return to Slumberland.
Ortega: Little what?
Gabe: LITTLE NEMO: RETURN TO SLUMBERLAND. For Chrissake, do you want me to spell it out! Okay, so I made some bad career choices, but it's the only work I can get!
Ortega (innocently and with a flourish): Did I say anything? What else?
Gabe (glumly): Iron Maze.
Ortega (nodding head at others at table): Oh, Iron Maze. Must have missed that.
Gabe: Robocop 2.
Ortega: I didn't know they made a Robocop 1!
::Gabe falls to floor in a state of depression. He breaks down as he reaches under his pant leg and pulls out a flask of whisky that had been strapped to his ankle.::
Gabe (sobbing and partaking in erratic drinks): Baywatch!
Ortega: Oh, Baywatch. That's the show where they all run in slow motion. My, you must be talented to run in slow motion! I know I could never run in slow motion!
::Others murmur in agreement with Ortega as Gabe's sobs increase.::
Gabe: Hey, man! I-hic-can't help the bad career choices I made! I was-hic- only a kid! I thought I was-hic-cool for being on Punky-hic-Brewster.
::Ortega rises from chair and joins Gabe, falling to his haunches and places a hand on Gabe's heaving shoulder::
Ortega: Spot, you know drinking is bad for you. I used to drink when I was your age-
::Gabe lets out a cry and tosses flask across room::
Gabe: All right! All right! I swear to the Lord Above I won't drink anymore! Just so I don't turn out like you! Just so I don't turn out like you!
Ortega (smiling insanely): That's a boy!
::Ortega pulls Gabe to his feet::
Ortega: Now, Spot, here's a script. Let's see what you can do!
::Ortega returns to his seat. Gabe stands, collecting himself, turning the script right side up to he can read it. He clears his throat.::
Gabe: So, Jacky boy, I've been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem-
Ortega (loudly and dramatically, returning to Gabe's side) STOP! STOP!
Gabe: What?
Ortega: Your doing it all WRONG!
Gabe: Doing what all wrong?
Ortega: The ACCENT! You're missing the most crucial piece of the lines! The accent!
Gabe: The accent? What accent?
Ortega (sighing loudly and ripping script from Gabe): The NEW YORK accent! Spot, an actor is much like a painter. The ears of others are the canvas, his lips the brushes, and his words the paint. You must FEEL the New York accent. Make my knees tremble when you say it! SO, AH, JACKY BOY, AH, I'VE BEEN HEARIN' LITTLE THINGS FROM BOIDS! THINGS FROM HAHLEM, QUEENS!
::The random others at the table break out in to wild applauds and Ortega takes a bow.::
Ortega (handing the script to Gabe and returning to his seat): Now, DO IT!
Gabe: So, er, Jacky boy, er, I've been hearing little things from birds-
Ortega: BOIDS!
Gabe: Birds!
Ortega: BOIDS!
Gabe (throwing down script): What the hell is a boid?
Ortega: A bird!
Gabe: Than why the hell can't I just say bird?
Ortega: Because if you just said bird then you would be deconstructing my whole vision! A vision sent straight from God himself! You don't want to mess with something of that magnitude, now do you?
Gabe (grumbling under breath and picking up script): All right, All right. (clears throat.) So, er, Jacky-
Ortega: AH!
Gabe: What?
Ortega: You are saying er! It's ah!
Gabe: For Christ's sake! So, AH, Jacky boy, AH, I've been hearing-
Ortega: HEARIN'! Drop that g! It is not part of the vision!
Gabe: HearIN' little things from bards-
Ortega: From what?
Gabe: Bards! From bards!
Ortega: Well, what is a bard?
Gabe: A bird!
Ortega: Well, you don't want to sound Canadian you want to sound New Yorkian!
Gabe: New Yorkian?
Ortega: YES! Boids!
::Gabe has become fed up.::
Gabe: Screw this shit! Get another muse for your vision! I am late for my audition for Little Nemo and my mom's really gonna be pissed off. I'm out of here!
::Gabe thundered to the door yet Ortega once again jumps the table and blocks him.::
Ortega: Wait! Spot! Please! We can work on dialogue later! What about dancing? Can you dance?
::Gabe regards him with an insolent glare.::
Ortega: Well, then! Everyone's got to learn for a first time! Just follow my steps and repeat the combination after me! One, two, three, step, ball, chain, step, ball chain, five, six, seven, pirouette, releve', step ball chain, plie', seven, eight, nine, pelvic thrust and we are done!
::Others at table break into wild applause as Gabe snorts and opens the door.::
Ortega: WAIT! What about singing? I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK!
::Gabe places foot through door.::
Ortega: Wait! So, let me get this right. You can't sing?
Gabe: No.
Ortega: You can't dance?
Gabe: No.
Ortega: And you can't act?
Gabe: No.
Ortega: WELL THEN BY GEORGE, WE HAVE OUR SPOT!
::Room erupts into ardent cheers. Gabe releases a groan, pushes past Ortega and out the threshold.::
Ortega (calling after Gabe out the door): Oh, you'll be just marvelous! Oh, my vision, my wonderful, wonderful vision is falling into place so well! Just think how marvelous you'll look in a newsboys cap! (ignores the gesture that Gabe throws at him) Oh, you'll get a letter in the mail from us, Spot! And don't go to that audition you were going to go to! And be sure to work on your pelvic thrusts! You are our Spot Conlon now.
::Ortega pulls head in door and slowly shuts it. He returns to his seat at the table amid all the cheers.::
Ortega: Who's the next kid?
Woman: Max Casella.
Ortega (under breath): Max Casella-
::Ortega picks up Max Casella's headshot. A devious smile crosses his face.::
Ortega: Hi, there, please state your name!
Disclaimer: Okay, obviously I do not own any of the characters because they are real people. Yes, I am poking fun of them but I still love them all very much--well, most of them. Read, review and enjoy my twisted rendition of
AUDITIONS FOR NEWSIES
GABRIEL DAMON: THE MUSE
::Location: 1991 in an airy room on the bottom level of a building in the Universal Studios lot. Behind a fold out table sits Kenny Ortega and random others. Miscellaneous sheets of paper and 8 x 10 headshots adorn the tabletop.::
Ortega: All right, send the next kid in.
::Door opens. Gabriel Damon cautiously shuffles in, his eyes darting about the room. He halts in the middle of the room in front of the table.::
Ortega: Hi, there, please state your name!
Gabe (staring warily around room): Uh-are these the auditions for Little Nemo: Return to Slumberland?
::Ortega and random people exchange glances.::
Ortega: Little what? No, these are auditions for the new Disney musical spectacular Newsies!
Gabe (bewildered): Um, I think I should go. Now.
::Ortega leaps off of chair and comes around front of table, banging hip on edge and causing headshots to fall to the ground. Grabs Gabe before he can rush out door. Places arm around his shoulder. ::
Ortega: Leave, now? Nonsense! I have a vision.
Gabe: A vision?
Ortega (dramatically, placing his head closer to Gabe's and waving his arm in front of him with a flourish): As I was sleeping one night, a dream came to me. A vision!
Random others: A vision!
Ortega: God told me that I was to create a new musical that would be the end all be all of musicals! (releases Gabe and hops onto table) Take what I created in Dirty Dancing and add-
Random others: Yes? Yes?
Ortega: PELVIC THRUSTS!
::Ortega proceeds to demonstrate. Random others erupt into coos and applause. Gabe stands absolutely befuddled.::
Ortega (jumping off table and returning to Gabe): You! You will be part of that vision! Oh, a higher presence told me that my Spot Conlon was going to work through that door right now. And here you are! Spot Conlon!
::Ortega bows as others shower him in claps and whistles.::
Ortega (wiping imaginary tears away): Yes, yes I know. I am a genius. And this man right her shall be my muse. My SPOT CONLON!
::Ortega takes exaggerated bows and others are in passionate hysterics.::
Ortega (clapping hands together and hurdling table, returning to seat and folding hands): So, what is your name?
Gabe (slowly) Gabriel Da-
Ortega: NO!
Gabe: No?
Ortega (pounding fist on table): No you are not Gabriel Day! You are Spot Conlon!
Gabe: Spot Conlon?
Ortega: YES!
Gabe: Who the fuck is Spot Conlon?
Ortega: YOU!
Gabe: Me?
Ortega: YES! YOU are Spot Conlon! YOU are the fearless leader of Brooklyn.
Gabe (panning the crowd at the table): Okay, I get it. Where's the hidden camera? Is this some trick or something?
::People at table break out into murmurs and exchange glances.::
Ortega: Of course not. What would make you think that?
Gabe (regarding them with a wild grin as he backs away): Okay, well, I really gotta be going-Little Nemo calls my name.
::Gabe turns for door yet Ortega leaps over table, and slams his back against door, blocking Gabe.::
Ortega (pleading): Wait, Spot, don't go, please.
Gabe (fury beginning to taint his voice): I am not Spot-
Ortega: Please, don't go yet, Spot. Just a few more questions?
Gabe (bellowing): I AM NOT SPOT!
Ortega: All right, Spot. Will you stay if I call you Gabriel?
Gabe: HELLO! Gabriel IS my name.
Ortega (incredulously): All right. If its one of those weird fetishes like people have I'll call you by a different name, Spot.
Gabe: GABRIEL!
Ortega (returning to table): Fine, GABRIEL, if that's what you want to be called. (to others at table) Weird kid. Really weird. (to Gabe, bright and sunny) So, hi Gabriel! Please come away from the door and stand near the middle of the table to we can all get a good look at you!
::Gabe, furious, begrudgingly positions himself where Ortega commanded::
Ortega: So, Sp-Gabriel. Tell us a little about yourself.
Gabe: I WAS on my way to an audition for Little Nemo: Return to Slumberland.
Ortega: Little what?
Gabe: LITTLE NEMO: RETURN TO SLUMBERLAND. For Chrissake, do you want me to spell it out! Okay, so I made some bad career choices, but it's the only work I can get!
Ortega (innocently and with a flourish): Did I say anything? What else?
Gabe (glumly): Iron Maze.
Ortega (nodding head at others at table): Oh, Iron Maze. Must have missed that.
Gabe: Robocop 2.
Ortega: I didn't know they made a Robocop 1!
::Gabe falls to floor in a state of depression. He breaks down as he reaches under his pant leg and pulls out a flask of whisky that had been strapped to his ankle.::
Gabe (sobbing and partaking in erratic drinks): Baywatch!
Ortega: Oh, Baywatch. That's the show where they all run in slow motion. My, you must be talented to run in slow motion! I know I could never run in slow motion!
::Others murmur in agreement with Ortega as Gabe's sobs increase.::
Gabe: Hey, man! I-hic-can't help the bad career choices I made! I was-hic- only a kid! I thought I was-hic-cool for being on Punky-hic-Brewster.
::Ortega rises from chair and joins Gabe, falling to his haunches and places a hand on Gabe's heaving shoulder::
Ortega: Spot, you know drinking is bad for you. I used to drink when I was your age-
::Gabe lets out a cry and tosses flask across room::
Gabe: All right! All right! I swear to the Lord Above I won't drink anymore! Just so I don't turn out like you! Just so I don't turn out like you!
Ortega (smiling insanely): That's a boy!
::Ortega pulls Gabe to his feet::
Ortega: Now, Spot, here's a script. Let's see what you can do!
::Ortega returns to his seat. Gabe stands, collecting himself, turning the script right side up to he can read it. He clears his throat.::
Gabe: So, Jacky boy, I've been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem-
Ortega (loudly and dramatically, returning to Gabe's side) STOP! STOP!
Gabe: What?
Ortega: Your doing it all WRONG!
Gabe: Doing what all wrong?
Ortega: The ACCENT! You're missing the most crucial piece of the lines! The accent!
Gabe: The accent? What accent?
Ortega (sighing loudly and ripping script from Gabe): The NEW YORK accent! Spot, an actor is much like a painter. The ears of others are the canvas, his lips the brushes, and his words the paint. You must FEEL the New York accent. Make my knees tremble when you say it! SO, AH, JACKY BOY, AH, I'VE BEEN HEARIN' LITTLE THINGS FROM BOIDS! THINGS FROM HAHLEM, QUEENS!
::The random others at the table break out in to wild applauds and Ortega takes a bow.::
Ortega (handing the script to Gabe and returning to his seat): Now, DO IT!
Gabe: So, er, Jacky boy, er, I've been hearing little things from birds-
Ortega: BOIDS!
Gabe: Birds!
Ortega: BOIDS!
Gabe (throwing down script): What the hell is a boid?
Ortega: A bird!
Gabe: Than why the hell can't I just say bird?
Ortega: Because if you just said bird then you would be deconstructing my whole vision! A vision sent straight from God himself! You don't want to mess with something of that magnitude, now do you?
Gabe (grumbling under breath and picking up script): All right, All right. (clears throat.) So, er, Jacky-
Ortega: AH!
Gabe: What?
Ortega: You are saying er! It's ah!
Gabe: For Christ's sake! So, AH, Jacky boy, AH, I've been hearing-
Ortega: HEARIN'! Drop that g! It is not part of the vision!
Gabe: HearIN' little things from bards-
Ortega: From what?
Gabe: Bards! From bards!
Ortega: Well, what is a bard?
Gabe: A bird!
Ortega: Well, you don't want to sound Canadian you want to sound New Yorkian!
Gabe: New Yorkian?
Ortega: YES! Boids!
::Gabe has become fed up.::
Gabe: Screw this shit! Get another muse for your vision! I am late for my audition for Little Nemo and my mom's really gonna be pissed off. I'm out of here!
::Gabe thundered to the door yet Ortega once again jumps the table and blocks him.::
Ortega: Wait! Spot! Please! We can work on dialogue later! What about dancing? Can you dance?
::Gabe regards him with an insolent glare.::
Ortega: Well, then! Everyone's got to learn for a first time! Just follow my steps and repeat the combination after me! One, two, three, step, ball, chain, step, ball chain, five, six, seven, pirouette, releve', step ball chain, plie', seven, eight, nine, pelvic thrust and we are done!
::Others at table break into wild applause as Gabe snorts and opens the door.::
Ortega: WAIT! What about singing? I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK!
::Gabe places foot through door.::
Ortega: Wait! So, let me get this right. You can't sing?
Gabe: No.
Ortega: You can't dance?
Gabe: No.
Ortega: And you can't act?
Gabe: No.
Ortega: WELL THEN BY GEORGE, WE HAVE OUR SPOT!
::Room erupts into ardent cheers. Gabe releases a groan, pushes past Ortega and out the threshold.::
Ortega (calling after Gabe out the door): Oh, you'll be just marvelous! Oh, my vision, my wonderful, wonderful vision is falling into place so well! Just think how marvelous you'll look in a newsboys cap! (ignores the gesture that Gabe throws at him) Oh, you'll get a letter in the mail from us, Spot! And don't go to that audition you were going to go to! And be sure to work on your pelvic thrusts! You are our Spot Conlon now.
::Ortega pulls head in door and slowly shuts it. He returns to his seat at the table amid all the cheers.::
Ortega: Who's the next kid?
Woman: Max Casella.
Ortega (under breath): Max Casella-
::Ortega picks up Max Casella's headshot. A devious smile crosses his face.::
Ortega: Hi, there, please state your name!