Chapter One:
A police whistle sounded over the shouts of the 20 boys fighting in the street. Another war had broken out between the Jets and the Sharks, and Shrank was here to stop it. "Knock it off! Knock that off!" Shrank yelled as he forced himself between Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon. "You wanna kill each other? Kill each other! But not on my beat!"
"Well if it ain't Lieutenant Shrank." Jack said to his boys as they gathered on one side of the street opposite the Sharks.
"Top of d' day Lieutenant Shrank." the Jets said in unison with dancing class manners.
"And Officer Krupke." Spot said, gesturing to Shrank's sidekick.
"Top of d' day Officer Krupke." the Sharks mimicked the Jets. They laughed, elbowing each other and enjoying their joke.
"Boy, what you stinkin' bilge rats have done t' this neighborhood." Shrank muttered as he stalked over to Baby John, who was nursing his bleeding cheek. "Which one of 'em did it Baby John?"
Jack jumped to attention, eager to defend Baby John. "As a matter-a factuality, sir, we suspicion that the job was done by a cop." Jack said, putting on his best poker face.
"Two cops." Bumlets piped up.
"At the least!" Skittery added.
"Impossible!" Krupke bellowed at the boys.
"Did nobody ever tell youse dat there's a difference between bein' a stool- pigeon and cooperatin' wid the law?" Shrank demanded, looking from one gang to the other. It was quite an effort for the large man because each gang was on an opposite side of the street from the other.
"Youse tol' us the difference. Sir." Jack said in a cocky tone. He elbowed Race in the ribs. "And we all pitched in for a prize for the first guy who can figure it out." The Jets laughed at Jack's clever remarks, but the Sharks just watched the whole exchange with somewhat amused expressions.
"Maybe buddy boy here should get it." Race suggested nodding towards Shrank.
"Don't buddy boy me, Racetrack!" Shrank bellowed, "I got a hot surprise for you: You hoodlums don't own the streets! There's been too much fightin' goin' on between you and the river rats!" Shrank turned to Spot. "All right Conlon. Get your trash outta here." he paused and with exaggerated mock charm, he bowed. "Please."
"Okay Sharks," Spot said, looking Shrank straight in the eye, "Get outta here." As the Sharks walked away towards Brooklyn, Shrank turned back to the Jets, The Jets had rounded up and were joking around as though Shrank had disappeared all together.
"Fellas!" the Jets turned around slowly when Shrank yelled at them. Several of them crossed their arms, awaiting the lecture that they were about to get. "Listen, if I don't put down the roughhouse, I get busted down to a traffic corner." Shrank said, "And your friend don't like traffic corners. So guys are gonna play ball with me. I gotta put up with the river rats and so do you. You're gonna make nice wid 'em from now on. Otherwise, I'll beat the livin' crap outta you all and run ya in!" Shrank paused, looking at each boy to make sure his lecture had gotten through. "Say good bye to the nice boys, Krupke." he said. Shrank turned and walked away. But Krupke paused.
"Goodbye boys." he said. Then Krupke followed Shrank down the street and out of sight.
"Goodbye boys." Skittery mimicked the cop.
"They make a nice couple." Blink said, laughing at his own joke.
"You hoodlums don't own the streets." Race said bitterly.
"Go play in the park!" Blink added
"Keep off the grass!" Skittery piped up
"Keep off the world!" Race shouted, "A gang that don't own the street is nuthin'!"
"WE DO OWN IT!" Jack yelled over Race, "Round up."
The Jets gathered around Jack as he lit up a cigarette and stood there silently. Instinct and experience told them all that Jack was thinking- coming up with a plan to "get" the Brooklyn newsies. Crutchy, however, was the only one who didn't realize it.
"Hey Jack, whatcha gonna do now?" he asked, leaning forward eagerly for the response. He was answered by a glare from Jack and an elbow in the ribs from Race.
"Shut up, buddy boy an' you'll find out." Race growled at Crutchy. Race turned to Jack, "Them river rats have been causin' us too much trouble." he said, "We's gotta do worse t' them than they did t' us t'day. They're the reason nobody can get work nowhere."
"Who says?" Jack demanded
"My ol' man says." Race replied.
"My ol' man says your ol' man couldn't get a job no-ways." Crutchy piped up.
"Your old man says WHAT?" Race demanded, ready to turn on Crutchy.
"My ol' man says dat they's ruinin' our chances." Crutchy tried to cover his slip of tongue enough to ease Race's anger. Just then a small, scrawny girl of about 14 shoved her way through the gang. "You bet your fat A they are!" she cried.
"You still around Anybodys?" Race asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Listen Jack, I was smash in that fight! I'm a born killer!"
"Go home Anybodys." Jack said. He spoke as though he'd already had this conversation many times before.
"How 'bout lettin' me in the gang?"
"NO."
"Oh come on, Jack! Didn't ya-"
"The road little lady! The road!" Jack ordered. Anybodys glared at him, but left. Jack turned back to his Jets. "Them river rats are gonna take away this "piece-a street" if we don't fight for it." he said, stating the obvious, "So we's gotta clean 'em out in one all-out fight."
"A rumble!" Race exclaimed eagerly.
"Cool it, Racey." Jack said, "The Sharks wanna part in this too. They might ask for knives...or guns."
"Guns! Gee." Crutchy exclaimed.
"I'm not sayin' for sure that they will, Crutch." Jack said, "I'm just sayin' they might. Now protocality call for a war council to decide on weapons. I'm gonna make the challenge."
"You gotta take a lieutenant wid ya." Skittery reminded his leader.
"That's me!" Race said,
"That's Mush." Jack corrected.
"Mush don't belong no more!" Race protested, "He ain't been here for weeks!"
"But he'll come through for us." Jack said, "I guarantee it."
(Sings)
When you're a Jet,
You're a Jet all the way
From your first cigarette
To your last dyin' day.
When you're a Jet,
If the spit hits the fan,
You got brothers around,
You're a family man!
You're never alone,
You're never disconnected!
You're home with your own:
When company's expected,
You're well protected!
Then you are set
With a capital J,
Which you'll never forget
Till they cart you away.
When you're a Jet,
You stay
A Jet!
"Now I know Mush like I know me-self." Jack said, "He'll be in on this."
"Where you gonna find Spot?" Blink asked
"He'll be at the dance tonight at Medda's." Jack replied.
"But that's neutral territory!" Crutchy reminded Jack.
'I'll make nice wid 'im." Jack said, "I'm only gonna challenge him! So listen, everybody dress up nice an' sharp. Meet Mush and me at 10. And walk tall!" Jack walked away down the street, leaving his boys under Race's lead.
(They sing)
When you're a Jet,
You're the top cat in town,
You're the gold-metal kid
With the heavyweight crown!
When you're a Jet,
You're the swingin'est thing.
Little boy, you're a man;
Little man, you're a king!
The Jets are in gear,
Our cylinders are clickin'!
The Sharks'll steer clear
'Cause ev'ry River rat
'S a lousy chicken!
Here come the Jets
Like a bat out of hell-
Someone gets in our way,
Someone don't feel so well.
Here come the Jets:
Little world, step aside!
Better go underground,
Better run, better hide.
We're drawin' the line,
So keep your noses hidden!
We're hangin' a sign,
Says "Visitors forbidden"-
And we ain't kiddin'!
Here come the Jets,
Yeah! An' we're gonna beat
Ev'ry last buggin' gang
On the whole buggin' street!
On the whole
Ever-!
Mother-!
Lovin'-!
Street!
A police whistle sounded over the shouts of the 20 boys fighting in the street. Another war had broken out between the Jets and the Sharks, and Shrank was here to stop it. "Knock it off! Knock that off!" Shrank yelled as he forced himself between Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon. "You wanna kill each other? Kill each other! But not on my beat!"
"Well if it ain't Lieutenant Shrank." Jack said to his boys as they gathered on one side of the street opposite the Sharks.
"Top of d' day Lieutenant Shrank." the Jets said in unison with dancing class manners.
"And Officer Krupke." Spot said, gesturing to Shrank's sidekick.
"Top of d' day Officer Krupke." the Sharks mimicked the Jets. They laughed, elbowing each other and enjoying their joke.
"Boy, what you stinkin' bilge rats have done t' this neighborhood." Shrank muttered as he stalked over to Baby John, who was nursing his bleeding cheek. "Which one of 'em did it Baby John?"
Jack jumped to attention, eager to defend Baby John. "As a matter-a factuality, sir, we suspicion that the job was done by a cop." Jack said, putting on his best poker face.
"Two cops." Bumlets piped up.
"At the least!" Skittery added.
"Impossible!" Krupke bellowed at the boys.
"Did nobody ever tell youse dat there's a difference between bein' a stool- pigeon and cooperatin' wid the law?" Shrank demanded, looking from one gang to the other. It was quite an effort for the large man because each gang was on an opposite side of the street from the other.
"Youse tol' us the difference. Sir." Jack said in a cocky tone. He elbowed Race in the ribs. "And we all pitched in for a prize for the first guy who can figure it out." The Jets laughed at Jack's clever remarks, but the Sharks just watched the whole exchange with somewhat amused expressions.
"Maybe buddy boy here should get it." Race suggested nodding towards Shrank.
"Don't buddy boy me, Racetrack!" Shrank bellowed, "I got a hot surprise for you: You hoodlums don't own the streets! There's been too much fightin' goin' on between you and the river rats!" Shrank turned to Spot. "All right Conlon. Get your trash outta here." he paused and with exaggerated mock charm, he bowed. "Please."
"Okay Sharks," Spot said, looking Shrank straight in the eye, "Get outta here." As the Sharks walked away towards Brooklyn, Shrank turned back to the Jets, The Jets had rounded up and were joking around as though Shrank had disappeared all together.
"Fellas!" the Jets turned around slowly when Shrank yelled at them. Several of them crossed their arms, awaiting the lecture that they were about to get. "Listen, if I don't put down the roughhouse, I get busted down to a traffic corner." Shrank said, "And your friend don't like traffic corners. So guys are gonna play ball with me. I gotta put up with the river rats and so do you. You're gonna make nice wid 'em from now on. Otherwise, I'll beat the livin' crap outta you all and run ya in!" Shrank paused, looking at each boy to make sure his lecture had gotten through. "Say good bye to the nice boys, Krupke." he said. Shrank turned and walked away. But Krupke paused.
"Goodbye boys." he said. Then Krupke followed Shrank down the street and out of sight.
"Goodbye boys." Skittery mimicked the cop.
"They make a nice couple." Blink said, laughing at his own joke.
"You hoodlums don't own the streets." Race said bitterly.
"Go play in the park!" Blink added
"Keep off the grass!" Skittery piped up
"Keep off the world!" Race shouted, "A gang that don't own the street is nuthin'!"
"WE DO OWN IT!" Jack yelled over Race, "Round up."
The Jets gathered around Jack as he lit up a cigarette and stood there silently. Instinct and experience told them all that Jack was thinking- coming up with a plan to "get" the Brooklyn newsies. Crutchy, however, was the only one who didn't realize it.
"Hey Jack, whatcha gonna do now?" he asked, leaning forward eagerly for the response. He was answered by a glare from Jack and an elbow in the ribs from Race.
"Shut up, buddy boy an' you'll find out." Race growled at Crutchy. Race turned to Jack, "Them river rats have been causin' us too much trouble." he said, "We's gotta do worse t' them than they did t' us t'day. They're the reason nobody can get work nowhere."
"Who says?" Jack demanded
"My ol' man says." Race replied.
"My ol' man says your ol' man couldn't get a job no-ways." Crutchy piped up.
"Your old man says WHAT?" Race demanded, ready to turn on Crutchy.
"My ol' man says dat they's ruinin' our chances." Crutchy tried to cover his slip of tongue enough to ease Race's anger. Just then a small, scrawny girl of about 14 shoved her way through the gang. "You bet your fat A they are!" she cried.
"You still around Anybodys?" Race asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Listen Jack, I was smash in that fight! I'm a born killer!"
"Go home Anybodys." Jack said. He spoke as though he'd already had this conversation many times before.
"How 'bout lettin' me in the gang?"
"NO."
"Oh come on, Jack! Didn't ya-"
"The road little lady! The road!" Jack ordered. Anybodys glared at him, but left. Jack turned back to his Jets. "Them river rats are gonna take away this "piece-a street" if we don't fight for it." he said, stating the obvious, "So we's gotta clean 'em out in one all-out fight."
"A rumble!" Race exclaimed eagerly.
"Cool it, Racey." Jack said, "The Sharks wanna part in this too. They might ask for knives...or guns."
"Guns! Gee." Crutchy exclaimed.
"I'm not sayin' for sure that they will, Crutch." Jack said, "I'm just sayin' they might. Now protocality call for a war council to decide on weapons. I'm gonna make the challenge."
"You gotta take a lieutenant wid ya." Skittery reminded his leader.
"That's me!" Race said,
"That's Mush." Jack corrected.
"Mush don't belong no more!" Race protested, "He ain't been here for weeks!"
"But he'll come through for us." Jack said, "I guarantee it."
(Sings)
When you're a Jet,
You're a Jet all the way
From your first cigarette
To your last dyin' day.
When you're a Jet,
If the spit hits the fan,
You got brothers around,
You're a family man!
You're never alone,
You're never disconnected!
You're home with your own:
When company's expected,
You're well protected!
Then you are set
With a capital J,
Which you'll never forget
Till they cart you away.
When you're a Jet,
You stay
A Jet!
"Now I know Mush like I know me-self." Jack said, "He'll be in on this."
"Where you gonna find Spot?" Blink asked
"He'll be at the dance tonight at Medda's." Jack replied.
"But that's neutral territory!" Crutchy reminded Jack.
'I'll make nice wid 'im." Jack said, "I'm only gonna challenge him! So listen, everybody dress up nice an' sharp. Meet Mush and me at 10. And walk tall!" Jack walked away down the street, leaving his boys under Race's lead.
(They sing)
When you're a Jet,
You're the top cat in town,
You're the gold-metal kid
With the heavyweight crown!
When you're a Jet,
You're the swingin'est thing.
Little boy, you're a man;
Little man, you're a king!
The Jets are in gear,
Our cylinders are clickin'!
The Sharks'll steer clear
'Cause ev'ry River rat
'S a lousy chicken!
Here come the Jets
Like a bat out of hell-
Someone gets in our way,
Someone don't feel so well.
Here come the Jets:
Little world, step aside!
Better go underground,
Better run, better hide.
We're drawin' the line,
So keep your noses hidden!
We're hangin' a sign,
Says "Visitors forbidden"-
And we ain't kiddin'!
Here come the Jets,
Yeah! An' we're gonna beat
Ev'ry last buggin' gang
On the whole buggin' street!
On the whole
Ever-!
Mother-!
Lovin'-!
Street!