AN: Alright, the rest of this fic is from Jack's POV, for those of you who didn't bother to read my warning in chapter 1. I wanna get right to it, so lets have some fun! Even Kloppman's gonna be in on the fun! * snicker *
I heard the footsteps on the stairs, and I knew what was about to happen. Yelling, poking, complaining…the usual.
"Boys, get up. I'm not going to tell you twice."
The footsteps retreated back down the stairs, and I shot wide awake. Was I dreaming? Did I just hear Kloppman say he wasn't going to tell us twice? Was he sick or something?
I sat up as all the other newsies began to wake each other up. No one else seemed to think it was weird that Kloppman had just said that and left. They were all going about their morning business, as usual…but something just wasn't quite normal.
I shrugged it off and began to get dressed. The Skittery walked up to me, pulling up his suspenders as he said, "So, how'd ya sleep, Jack?"
Wait a second. Skittery? He gave me a hurt look when I didn't answer.
"Skittery…are you okay?"
He grinned and punched me playfully in the shoulder. "Of course! I ain't nevah been bettah!" Then he went on to the mirrors. I stopped Mush as he walked by, and he gave me the maddest look I think I'd ever seen on his face- ever.
"What's wrong with Skittery?" I asked, my hand still on Mush's shoulder.
"I don't know. Get your hand offa me, ya bum. I ain't your poisonal leanin' post."
I jerked my hand back as Mush walked away, a smile not once touching his face. I started shaving, hoping that this was just some kind of a fluke. It was like Mush and Skittery had just switched bodies or something…nah. Maybe Mush was in a rare bad mood and Skittery had gotten a girl or something. Yeah…that had to be it.
"Yeah, I can't wait ta get down to da tracks. I got a hot tip on numbah seventeen, she's a sure winnah." Race was saying. Wait…no…that wasn't Racetrack…
Why in the world was Dutchy talking about going to the tracks?!
"Hey, Race, are you goin' to da tracks today?" I asked him as he joined me at the mirror. He looked at me like I'd just said that it snowed last night- in the middle of July.
"Me? Go to da tracks? What planet are you livin' on, Jack? I jest got a new book yesterday…it's by Shakespeare. I can't wait ta sit down and read it."
Oh. My. God.
Something was really wrong here.
"Blink, what's goin' on, man?" I asked Kid as he walked by. I fully expected him to get mad at me- he's always in a bad mood in the morning.
"What do ya mean, Jack? Are you alright? Do ya need me ta go get Kloppman?"
God. If I weren't looking straight at the eye patch, I would have sworn that was Dutchy talking. But Dutchy was still gushing about how he was going to win the poker game tonight when he never even plays poker.
"Come on, Jack, cheer up! The sun is shinin', and we got papes ta sell!" Skittery said, beaming as he threw an arm around my shoulder and led me down the stairs.
"But, you guys-"
"What's your problem today, Jack? You act like youse got a…whatsit called…concussion or somethin'." Crutchy said, practically spitting daggers with his words. It was like he was speaking for Blink while Blink was speaking for Dutchy and Dutchy was speaking for Race and Race was speaking for Specs and…what the hell was going on?!
When did I lose my mind?!
AN: This is just the beginning, folks! Just wait until he goes to the distribution office, where our pal Davey shall be waiting…Oh, do I have plans for Jacky-boy…review, please!
