***Hey peoples! I just graduated 8th grade and that means... I'm goin to
high school! I'm goin to high school! WooHoo! Sorry. I've been soooo
happy about that all day. Well, anyway, I told you that I would update
fast. Thanks for all of the reviews! I was so excited to get some and I
was really happy to get all those compliments! Man I love you guys!
Anywho... the following disclaimer will last through out the entire story
so I don't have to write any more EVER AGAIN!!!!...
**Disclaimer** I do not own Newsies (even though I pray that I could every
night) so don't sue me!!!!***
Chapter 2
Spot worked his way through the crowd, using his gold tipped cane to push people out of his way, shouting, "Outta me way! Spot Conlon comin' t'rough!" He eventually reached the winner's circle and stood, admiring the horse. Suddenly, someone ran into him from behind.
"Hey!" the person shouted, "Watch where you're goin'!"
"You was da one who ran inta me rememba?" Spot shouted back, "Do you knows who I am?" It was strange. Most people either feared or at least respected him.
"Listen, I ain't gonna stand heah and listen to ya tell me who ya are, 'cause I don't care in da least. I got a job ta do."
Spot studied the person as they pushed past him. They were wearing a tan cabbie hat and trousers and a dark blue shirt. Their cabbie hat was pulled low so that he couldn't see their eyes. They were dressed like a Newsie and talked like a Newsie, but they didn't seem to know him, Spot Conlon, the most famous Newsie in New York.
"I'm Spot Conlon you good for notin' Newsie! Youse is a disgrace to all da Newsies in New York!" he shouted.
The stranger stopped. "Now dat's interestin'," they said, "'cause I ain't a Newsie."
Spot stood, watching the stranger, as they turned to leave. He didn't move for a minute, then he ran up to the stranger, stepping in front of them. "If ya ain't a Newsie, den why are ya dressed like one?" Spot asked.
I don't owe youse any explanation 'bout why I'm heah or what I'm doin'. If ya don't get outta me way, I'll soak ya."
Spot laughed and started to say something, but was interrupted by a loud voice shouting, "Elizabeth! Get over here you good for nothing stable rat!"
The stranger jogged over to Black Sand's jockey and pulled off their cabbie hat. Auburn hair fell to the girl's shoulders and she lowered her bright, hazel eyes to the ground. The jockey slapped the girl across her face and she looked up at him as he said, "Black Sand is a racehorse, not your pet, so don't waste my time petting him! If you ever do it again, I'll do worse than whip you!"
Spot suddenly noticed the long, red welt running from the girl's shoulder to her elbow. Spot stepped forward and shouted, "Ay! What gives you da right ta treat her like dat? I don't even tink you could saddle dat horse wit out her!"
"Hey kid," the jockey retorted, "nobody you to open your big mouth. If you don't learn to keep it shut, then I'll teach you a lesson you won't soon forget."
Spot felt the girl's foot come down hard on top of his. "Please escuse him Mista Ramsay. He's just one a dose Newsies and he don't know da foist ting about racin'."
The jockey rolled his eyes and handed the reins to the girl, then began talking to the newspaper reporters around him. As the girl walked away, Race walked up. "Let's go," he said.
"No," Spot answered, "I've gotta talk ta dis goil."
"What goil?"
Spot explained what had happened and the boys walked towards the race stable, where Spot had seen the girl go.
*** Well.....what did you think? I know it's a little unusual, but it should get better. Well, please review this chap too, kay? I really wanna know what you guys think!***
~*spots_lil_boidie*~
Chapter 2
Spot worked his way through the crowd, using his gold tipped cane to push people out of his way, shouting, "Outta me way! Spot Conlon comin' t'rough!" He eventually reached the winner's circle and stood, admiring the horse. Suddenly, someone ran into him from behind.
"Hey!" the person shouted, "Watch where you're goin'!"
"You was da one who ran inta me rememba?" Spot shouted back, "Do you knows who I am?" It was strange. Most people either feared or at least respected him.
"Listen, I ain't gonna stand heah and listen to ya tell me who ya are, 'cause I don't care in da least. I got a job ta do."
Spot studied the person as they pushed past him. They were wearing a tan cabbie hat and trousers and a dark blue shirt. Their cabbie hat was pulled low so that he couldn't see their eyes. They were dressed like a Newsie and talked like a Newsie, but they didn't seem to know him, Spot Conlon, the most famous Newsie in New York.
"I'm Spot Conlon you good for notin' Newsie! Youse is a disgrace to all da Newsies in New York!" he shouted.
The stranger stopped. "Now dat's interestin'," they said, "'cause I ain't a Newsie."
Spot stood, watching the stranger, as they turned to leave. He didn't move for a minute, then he ran up to the stranger, stepping in front of them. "If ya ain't a Newsie, den why are ya dressed like one?" Spot asked.
I don't owe youse any explanation 'bout why I'm heah or what I'm doin'. If ya don't get outta me way, I'll soak ya."
Spot laughed and started to say something, but was interrupted by a loud voice shouting, "Elizabeth! Get over here you good for nothing stable rat!"
The stranger jogged over to Black Sand's jockey and pulled off their cabbie hat. Auburn hair fell to the girl's shoulders and she lowered her bright, hazel eyes to the ground. The jockey slapped the girl across her face and she looked up at him as he said, "Black Sand is a racehorse, not your pet, so don't waste my time petting him! If you ever do it again, I'll do worse than whip you!"
Spot suddenly noticed the long, red welt running from the girl's shoulder to her elbow. Spot stepped forward and shouted, "Ay! What gives you da right ta treat her like dat? I don't even tink you could saddle dat horse wit out her!"
"Hey kid," the jockey retorted, "nobody you to open your big mouth. If you don't learn to keep it shut, then I'll teach you a lesson you won't soon forget."
Spot felt the girl's foot come down hard on top of his. "Please escuse him Mista Ramsay. He's just one a dose Newsies and he don't know da foist ting about racin'."
The jockey rolled his eyes and handed the reins to the girl, then began talking to the newspaper reporters around him. As the girl walked away, Race walked up. "Let's go," he said.
"No," Spot answered, "I've gotta talk ta dis goil."
"What goil?"
Spot explained what had happened and the boys walked towards the race stable, where Spot had seen the girl go.
*** Well.....what did you think? I know it's a little unusual, but it should get better. Well, please review this chap too, kay? I really wanna know what you guys think!***
~*spots_lil_boidie*~