"We came for the Finnegan whore," the words made my stomach clench
into knots. The newsie who had stated their purpose was none other than
Knuckles, and as I looked at his face, I realized he meant me harm. Spot
smirked and one of his eyebrows arched sardonically.
"Oh really? And what makes you think I'll give her to you." There was an angry murmur and Knuckles looked slightly at a loss before he gave Spot a feral grin.
"Because of Cards, because she's a Finnegan, and because YOU'RE the leader. The leader, Spot. You have a duty to us." Spot's frown encompassed his entire face before he grabbed Knuckles by the throat and pulled his head down close to his lips.
"Listen to me you fucking little weasel. I don't OWE you nothin'. Cards, yeah I owe him everything. You, no. You will not be harming innocent girls who didn't hurt nobody just because you hate her brother's. Now get the hell out of my face. All of you! This is MISERY. She didn't do nothin'".
Someone began shoving their way through the crowd, and I saw Pokey roughly throwing boys down the hall towards the bunkroom, berating them the whole time. It was slightly humorous given her size in comparison to theirs, but she was enraged and managed to really whip some of them.
Spot slammed the door and stalked around his room, running his hands through his ash-blonde hair furiously. Finally he dropped them and gave me a helpless look.
"That's it; ya can't stay here no more." I must have looked at him like he had grown two heads after his heartfelt speech about treating me like an innocent for he roughly grabbed my arm. I winced, but he didn't lessen his grip.
"Did I stutter? Get the hell up." I practically leapt out of bed, and cried out in pain. He was instantly by my side, embracing me. I shoved at his chest, but he tightened his arms around me.
"Can't you see that I have to do this? I care about you Misery but these boys; they'll run me off right quick if I don't show them that I always have their best interests in heart. And I do, Misery that's the thing. This is my life, I can't throw it away."
"But you'll throw me away without question, huh." I was surprised at how bitter my voice sounded muffled against his chest. I hadn't realized that I'd grown that attached to the Brooklyn leader. He looked down at me and I saw that look on his face that I had seen when he was rubbing my back.
So this was the choice he had made. His newsies and leadership over me. He had never really cared enough about me to begin with. I would find out later that I was wrong, and that he did care about me, but this was too much for me to figure out.
I felt tears staining my cheeks and sliding into the corners of my mouth. They were warm and salty and I angrily dashed them away. Spot tilted my chin up so that I was looking at him.
"Carson a tha thu 'gal?"* I blinked up at him and tried to free myself once more.
"I'm crying because I hate you, you miserable boy. Mo nair'ort!"* He quirked his mouth slightly and kissed me gently. Then he let me go and I straightened my clothing and wrenched open the door.
I knew it wasn't safe for me to be in Brooklyn after the newsies had voiced their obvious displeasure. I was waiting to see how the Manhattan boys would react. As I stepped out of the room, I heard him utter something in Gaelic so low I almost missed it.
"Tha mi duilich."* I was shocked that he would apologize, but slightly angry that he wouldn't say it in English. I held my head up and limped down the hallway to find the Manhattan kids.
I found them downstairs talking in earnest, all crowded round the large, rickety table that took up most of the room. I was in shock that that they were awake, but one glance out the window told me that dawn wasn't too far off. Conversation immediately stopped when I entered the room. I didn't even look at their faces, just kept going towards the door. Someone grabbed my arm and spun me around.
"Cha leig thu leas," I spat at Bourbon as she glared at me. She snorted with laughter at the Gaelic and looked at me expectantly.
"I said, don't bother. I can tell when I'm not wanted."
"Not wanted? Look at my face and tell me that you're not wanted." I looked at her red-rimmed eyes and felt instantly ashamed. These kids had been up all night waiting for me and getting into a brawl for me.
"Look, we know that you're a Finnegan, and we understand why you didn't tell us. I wish that you HAD told us, but we understand why you didn't. That doesn't change that you're Misery. What did Spot say?" I was taken aback by Jack's short speech and felt my cheeks redden.
"He chose Brooklyn, of course." I saw a faint glimmer in Racetrack's eyes as he stepped up to me and put his arm around my shoulder and led me towards the door. Jack threw a hand in the air and looked around.
"That about says it all, let's get going." Silently we filed out of the Brooklyn Lodging House into the hustle and bustle of early morning traffic on the waterfront. I was even more shamed by the fact that none of the kids would sell today thanks to me. They were all too exhausted. I vowed to go back and give all the money I had to Kloppman to try to help cover at least some of their lodging expenses.
Pistol and Bourbon shouldered Racetrack out of the way at one point and slung an arm each around my shoulders. I was shocked to see how well they were taking everything. I was still limping and with each step I gritted my teeth in pain. Pain and Young Joseph hadn't been very gentle.
As we entered Manhattan, we ran into some of the younger newsies who had stayed behind hollering the headlines of that morning's paper. I about wet myself in excitement as I distinctly heard the news.
"Read all about it! Finnegan Boys put in prison! Murder, bribery and theft amongst their charges! Judges and policemen jailed as well! Roosevelt ecstatic!" The newsies all clustered around the younger boys, who turned out to be Boots and Snipeshooter. We eagerly read the paper and cheered. As it turned out, not long after we left my brothers tied up at their hideout the coppers swarmed the place and took everyone who was there in.
They had also busted down the doors of some very 'respectable' judges and policemen, one a captain. The clean-up had been over by the time we started on our way back to Manhattan and had somehow made the morning presses. I grinned and silently said a prayer of thanks for meeting a man such as Brian Denton. He must have had the story ready to go before the bust.
"Lookit what it says here! 'Thanks to the aid of the Finnegan's own sister who recorded down key events we were able to put places and names to some murders that had remained unsolved until now. Our deepest and most heartfelt thanks go out to her.' That was said by one Sergeant O'Malley, of the Brooklyn police department." I felt numerous pairs of eyes on me and I shrugged.
"Someone had to help stop them." Bourbon squeezed my shoulder and I could see her eyes fill with tears.
"Cards is probably so happy right now," she said softly. I dropped my head, and felt many hands suddenly patting my back and shoulders. I was surrounded by the Manhattan newsies as they all told me in hushed voices that it wasn't my fault. I felt an ache begin in my chest.
Why couldn't Spot see that then? I lifted my eyes to meet those of Racetrack's and he was looking at me with such concern that I instantly berated myself. Here standing in front of me was a boy who was obviously enamored and was sticking by my side. He had proven himself more than once and he deserved a chance. It wasn't as if I didn't have feelings for him either. I silently rested my head on his shoulder and whispered that I wanted to lie down. Racetrack instantly started pushing people out of the way and with an arm around me, brought me back to Duane Street, and the lodging house.
Clearing off my bunk, he helped me get comfortable before perching on the edge. I smiled slightly as he lit a cigar and the familiar pungent odor permeated the small room. He apologetically smiled and held the cigar aside.
"Botherin' ya?" I shook my head, no. He stuck it back into his mouth. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. I heard him shift and then the soft strains of music began to play as he absently blew on his harmonica. He played it softly and the music was soothing. I felt myself drift off into a restless sleep.
When I awoke there was no one about and the light playing through the window told me that it was midday. I sat up and listlessly picked at the blanket covering me. I felt nothing but shame course through my veins. All I could feel was Pain and Young Joseph's hands touching me. I wasn't sure if anyone could ever touch me again and feel normal.
I shuddered and tried to forget what had happened, but it stuck with me. I was almost positive that nothing would ever feel normal to me again so long as I lived. I felt dirty and worth little. I knew that what had happened hadn't been my fault, but it did little to assail me of my fears. I was furious and full of a rage that I couldn't do anything to expel.
I sat up and propped myself against my pillow. Next to me on the little bedside table sat a deck of tattered playing cards that I knew were Race's, a wilted flower, a pile of cigarettes, and a lukewarm bottle of soda pop. My eyes filled with tears when I thought of the newsies gathering these things for me. I lit a cigarette and began to play solitaire, humming to myself. Maybe life wasn't going to be so bad after all.
After growing tired of playing cards, I got out of bed and smoothed my wrinkled clothes out the best I could. Jauntily tilting my bowler on top of my head I gathered a handful of coins from underneath my mattress and winced slightly at the pain as I began to walk downstairs. Kloppman was sitting in a chair at the desk in the lobby, his feet crossed and resting on the top of the desk, his arms crossed behind his head. His eyes were closed and he snored softly. I smiled at the old man and plunked my change down. He awoke with a start and looked at me before softening the rugged exterior of his face with a half-smile.
"You holding up okay?" he asked gruffly. When I nodded he nodded back and reaching behind the desk tossed me a biscuit which I began to gnaw on ravenously. Kloppman stirred the pile of coins on the desk and looked at me curiously.
"It's to pay for some lodging for the kids since they probably didn't get much selling done today on account of me." I saw his gaze soften and looked away. He silently added it all up and logged it into the accounts book. I finished my biscuit and went outside to smoke a cigarette. The kids should be coming home soon from selling. I knew they would be exhausted and probably not much fun to be around. I considered taking a walk but that idea was halted when I saw a mob of kids nearing the lodging house.
Jack, Race, Mush, and Kid Blink were carrying the still form of a boy. I squinted my eyes and exhaled sharply when I saw that it was Pie Eater. Pie wasn't a small boy nor was he weak. His face was covered in blood and he was moaning as they swept past me with him inside.
I grabbed Race's sleeve and he swung about to face me, his eyes clouded with anger. Grasping my shoulders he drew me down the stairs and a little ways down the street so we could talk.
"What's going on? What happened to Pie Eater?"
"Brooklyn soaked him. They've declared war on Manhattan for as long as we keep you around." I gaped at him in shock. It felt like someone had socked me in the stomach while wearing brassknuckles.
"Spot declared war? He did that?" Race spat furiously onto the ground and chomped on his cigar like a horse chewing on a bit. I felt lightheaded and sank to the ground, squatting with my hands resting on the sidewalk holding me up. This wasn't supposed to happen. Spot was supposed to be Manhattan's ally. Now thanks to me there was going to be lots of fighting and people I cared about were going to get hurt. The fact that a boy of Pie Eater's size had been set upon only showed how serious they were. I put my face into my hands and sat down on the ground hard.
Now what was I going to do?
* Gaelic Translations -
Carson a tha thu gal? - Why are you crying?
Mo nair` ort - Shame on you
Tha ma duilich - I'm sorry
Pokey7 - No, I haven't seen Mansfield Park or read it, I'll have to. I adore Jane Eyre I think that story is very romantic. I really like Dickens a lot too. Oh yes Misery's brothers get theirs. That's how it should always be.
Luin - Yay new reviewer! *Dances happily* Here's more for you m'dear!
NaughteeLady - Yay another new reviewer! *dances again* No, Spot and Misery are never going to..y'know.. *raises eyebrows* Thank you for reviewing!
Netangel182 - Don't worry about it, I'm just happy that people like my story and let me know. Yes Spot's kind of too pretty not to have a soft side. I say that in the nicest way possible because I love Spot to death. But he does strike me as someone who would be tough on the outside and at least a little big soft on the inside.
Nutters - Jack?! Screw Jack it's all about Spot and Racetrack! And yes I would believe it. I will email you and let you know that I have updated since you asked. Eep! I'm glad you like it. :D
Jocelyn Padoga - No, Spot doesn't let them have her persay... And Race feels pretty strongly for Misery. And if you mean what was the Gaelic that Spot was saying in Chapter 12? Pretty much he was telling her to feel better and have a good sleep. I lost the translation somewhere and I can't remember it exactly.
Irish Rover - MUAAAAAAAAHAHAHA.*rubs hands and cackles* Because I am cruel and evil! Don't forget.Oooh a puppy *runs after puppy*
Sarah Kate - Yay another new reviewer! I'd dance but I'm tired now. *pants* I'm glad you like my story! You're going to give me a swelled ego..
Brooke Lyn - Wow, thank you. I'm so glad to hear that you liked my story. I like the stories that suck you in so it's nice to hear that I can write 'em and make people feel emotions. That's what every writer tries to do.
Just Duck -- *grabs switchblade* Let's teach those mens a lesson. *nods* I know they're not as long as they could be. I try and try and then I get caught up in other things and I just want to update the damn thing. But I'm glad you're still reading! *hugs*
Chelsea - The Weeees---al...Right? Am I right? Getting into fights is nothing special, you get hurt. That's no fun. My friends beat on me all the time so I'm used to getting roughed up. My friend's boyfriend taught me how to punch years ago. It's all in how you hold your hands, and how quick you are. Hehe I know the whole 'violated' thing was kind of corny but aaaaah I dunno. Damnit. Spot in nothing but suspenders and pants. Yum. *drools* Yeah I liked the Racetrack curse thing. That made my day when I thought that up. God I'm a nerd.
Cabby1 - Yes! Those disgusting guys will get what they deserve. You know what happens to men in prison. *turns green* Ew. I'm gross.
"Oh really? And what makes you think I'll give her to you." There was an angry murmur and Knuckles looked slightly at a loss before he gave Spot a feral grin.
"Because of Cards, because she's a Finnegan, and because YOU'RE the leader. The leader, Spot. You have a duty to us." Spot's frown encompassed his entire face before he grabbed Knuckles by the throat and pulled his head down close to his lips.
"Listen to me you fucking little weasel. I don't OWE you nothin'. Cards, yeah I owe him everything. You, no. You will not be harming innocent girls who didn't hurt nobody just because you hate her brother's. Now get the hell out of my face. All of you! This is MISERY. She didn't do nothin'".
Someone began shoving their way through the crowd, and I saw Pokey roughly throwing boys down the hall towards the bunkroom, berating them the whole time. It was slightly humorous given her size in comparison to theirs, but she was enraged and managed to really whip some of them.
Spot slammed the door and stalked around his room, running his hands through his ash-blonde hair furiously. Finally he dropped them and gave me a helpless look.
"That's it; ya can't stay here no more." I must have looked at him like he had grown two heads after his heartfelt speech about treating me like an innocent for he roughly grabbed my arm. I winced, but he didn't lessen his grip.
"Did I stutter? Get the hell up." I practically leapt out of bed, and cried out in pain. He was instantly by my side, embracing me. I shoved at his chest, but he tightened his arms around me.
"Can't you see that I have to do this? I care about you Misery but these boys; they'll run me off right quick if I don't show them that I always have their best interests in heart. And I do, Misery that's the thing. This is my life, I can't throw it away."
"But you'll throw me away without question, huh." I was surprised at how bitter my voice sounded muffled against his chest. I hadn't realized that I'd grown that attached to the Brooklyn leader. He looked down at me and I saw that look on his face that I had seen when he was rubbing my back.
So this was the choice he had made. His newsies and leadership over me. He had never really cared enough about me to begin with. I would find out later that I was wrong, and that he did care about me, but this was too much for me to figure out.
I felt tears staining my cheeks and sliding into the corners of my mouth. They were warm and salty and I angrily dashed them away. Spot tilted my chin up so that I was looking at him.
"Carson a tha thu 'gal?"* I blinked up at him and tried to free myself once more.
"I'm crying because I hate you, you miserable boy. Mo nair'ort!"* He quirked his mouth slightly and kissed me gently. Then he let me go and I straightened my clothing and wrenched open the door.
I knew it wasn't safe for me to be in Brooklyn after the newsies had voiced their obvious displeasure. I was waiting to see how the Manhattan boys would react. As I stepped out of the room, I heard him utter something in Gaelic so low I almost missed it.
"Tha mi duilich."* I was shocked that he would apologize, but slightly angry that he wouldn't say it in English. I held my head up and limped down the hallway to find the Manhattan kids.
I found them downstairs talking in earnest, all crowded round the large, rickety table that took up most of the room. I was in shock that that they were awake, but one glance out the window told me that dawn wasn't too far off. Conversation immediately stopped when I entered the room. I didn't even look at their faces, just kept going towards the door. Someone grabbed my arm and spun me around.
"Cha leig thu leas," I spat at Bourbon as she glared at me. She snorted with laughter at the Gaelic and looked at me expectantly.
"I said, don't bother. I can tell when I'm not wanted."
"Not wanted? Look at my face and tell me that you're not wanted." I looked at her red-rimmed eyes and felt instantly ashamed. These kids had been up all night waiting for me and getting into a brawl for me.
"Look, we know that you're a Finnegan, and we understand why you didn't tell us. I wish that you HAD told us, but we understand why you didn't. That doesn't change that you're Misery. What did Spot say?" I was taken aback by Jack's short speech and felt my cheeks redden.
"He chose Brooklyn, of course." I saw a faint glimmer in Racetrack's eyes as he stepped up to me and put his arm around my shoulder and led me towards the door. Jack threw a hand in the air and looked around.
"That about says it all, let's get going." Silently we filed out of the Brooklyn Lodging House into the hustle and bustle of early morning traffic on the waterfront. I was even more shamed by the fact that none of the kids would sell today thanks to me. They were all too exhausted. I vowed to go back and give all the money I had to Kloppman to try to help cover at least some of their lodging expenses.
Pistol and Bourbon shouldered Racetrack out of the way at one point and slung an arm each around my shoulders. I was shocked to see how well they were taking everything. I was still limping and with each step I gritted my teeth in pain. Pain and Young Joseph hadn't been very gentle.
As we entered Manhattan, we ran into some of the younger newsies who had stayed behind hollering the headlines of that morning's paper. I about wet myself in excitement as I distinctly heard the news.
"Read all about it! Finnegan Boys put in prison! Murder, bribery and theft amongst their charges! Judges and policemen jailed as well! Roosevelt ecstatic!" The newsies all clustered around the younger boys, who turned out to be Boots and Snipeshooter. We eagerly read the paper and cheered. As it turned out, not long after we left my brothers tied up at their hideout the coppers swarmed the place and took everyone who was there in.
They had also busted down the doors of some very 'respectable' judges and policemen, one a captain. The clean-up had been over by the time we started on our way back to Manhattan and had somehow made the morning presses. I grinned and silently said a prayer of thanks for meeting a man such as Brian Denton. He must have had the story ready to go before the bust.
"Lookit what it says here! 'Thanks to the aid of the Finnegan's own sister who recorded down key events we were able to put places and names to some murders that had remained unsolved until now. Our deepest and most heartfelt thanks go out to her.' That was said by one Sergeant O'Malley, of the Brooklyn police department." I felt numerous pairs of eyes on me and I shrugged.
"Someone had to help stop them." Bourbon squeezed my shoulder and I could see her eyes fill with tears.
"Cards is probably so happy right now," she said softly. I dropped my head, and felt many hands suddenly patting my back and shoulders. I was surrounded by the Manhattan newsies as they all told me in hushed voices that it wasn't my fault. I felt an ache begin in my chest.
Why couldn't Spot see that then? I lifted my eyes to meet those of Racetrack's and he was looking at me with such concern that I instantly berated myself. Here standing in front of me was a boy who was obviously enamored and was sticking by my side. He had proven himself more than once and he deserved a chance. It wasn't as if I didn't have feelings for him either. I silently rested my head on his shoulder and whispered that I wanted to lie down. Racetrack instantly started pushing people out of the way and with an arm around me, brought me back to Duane Street, and the lodging house.
Clearing off my bunk, he helped me get comfortable before perching on the edge. I smiled slightly as he lit a cigar and the familiar pungent odor permeated the small room. He apologetically smiled and held the cigar aside.
"Botherin' ya?" I shook my head, no. He stuck it back into his mouth. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. I heard him shift and then the soft strains of music began to play as he absently blew on his harmonica. He played it softly and the music was soothing. I felt myself drift off into a restless sleep.
When I awoke there was no one about and the light playing through the window told me that it was midday. I sat up and listlessly picked at the blanket covering me. I felt nothing but shame course through my veins. All I could feel was Pain and Young Joseph's hands touching me. I wasn't sure if anyone could ever touch me again and feel normal.
I shuddered and tried to forget what had happened, but it stuck with me. I was almost positive that nothing would ever feel normal to me again so long as I lived. I felt dirty and worth little. I knew that what had happened hadn't been my fault, but it did little to assail me of my fears. I was furious and full of a rage that I couldn't do anything to expel.
I sat up and propped myself against my pillow. Next to me on the little bedside table sat a deck of tattered playing cards that I knew were Race's, a wilted flower, a pile of cigarettes, and a lukewarm bottle of soda pop. My eyes filled with tears when I thought of the newsies gathering these things for me. I lit a cigarette and began to play solitaire, humming to myself. Maybe life wasn't going to be so bad after all.
After growing tired of playing cards, I got out of bed and smoothed my wrinkled clothes out the best I could. Jauntily tilting my bowler on top of my head I gathered a handful of coins from underneath my mattress and winced slightly at the pain as I began to walk downstairs. Kloppman was sitting in a chair at the desk in the lobby, his feet crossed and resting on the top of the desk, his arms crossed behind his head. His eyes were closed and he snored softly. I smiled at the old man and plunked my change down. He awoke with a start and looked at me before softening the rugged exterior of his face with a half-smile.
"You holding up okay?" he asked gruffly. When I nodded he nodded back and reaching behind the desk tossed me a biscuit which I began to gnaw on ravenously. Kloppman stirred the pile of coins on the desk and looked at me curiously.
"It's to pay for some lodging for the kids since they probably didn't get much selling done today on account of me." I saw his gaze soften and looked away. He silently added it all up and logged it into the accounts book. I finished my biscuit and went outside to smoke a cigarette. The kids should be coming home soon from selling. I knew they would be exhausted and probably not much fun to be around. I considered taking a walk but that idea was halted when I saw a mob of kids nearing the lodging house.
Jack, Race, Mush, and Kid Blink were carrying the still form of a boy. I squinted my eyes and exhaled sharply when I saw that it was Pie Eater. Pie wasn't a small boy nor was he weak. His face was covered in blood and he was moaning as they swept past me with him inside.
I grabbed Race's sleeve and he swung about to face me, his eyes clouded with anger. Grasping my shoulders he drew me down the stairs and a little ways down the street so we could talk.
"What's going on? What happened to Pie Eater?"
"Brooklyn soaked him. They've declared war on Manhattan for as long as we keep you around." I gaped at him in shock. It felt like someone had socked me in the stomach while wearing brassknuckles.
"Spot declared war? He did that?" Race spat furiously onto the ground and chomped on his cigar like a horse chewing on a bit. I felt lightheaded and sank to the ground, squatting with my hands resting on the sidewalk holding me up. This wasn't supposed to happen. Spot was supposed to be Manhattan's ally. Now thanks to me there was going to be lots of fighting and people I cared about were going to get hurt. The fact that a boy of Pie Eater's size had been set upon only showed how serious they were. I put my face into my hands and sat down on the ground hard.
Now what was I going to do?
* Gaelic Translations -
Carson a tha thu gal? - Why are you crying?
Mo nair` ort - Shame on you
Tha ma duilich - I'm sorry
Pokey7 - No, I haven't seen Mansfield Park or read it, I'll have to. I adore Jane Eyre I think that story is very romantic. I really like Dickens a lot too. Oh yes Misery's brothers get theirs. That's how it should always be.
Luin - Yay new reviewer! *Dances happily* Here's more for you m'dear!
NaughteeLady - Yay another new reviewer! *dances again* No, Spot and Misery are never going to..y'know.. *raises eyebrows* Thank you for reviewing!
Netangel182 - Don't worry about it, I'm just happy that people like my story and let me know. Yes Spot's kind of too pretty not to have a soft side. I say that in the nicest way possible because I love Spot to death. But he does strike me as someone who would be tough on the outside and at least a little big soft on the inside.
Nutters - Jack?! Screw Jack it's all about Spot and Racetrack! And yes I would believe it. I will email you and let you know that I have updated since you asked. Eep! I'm glad you like it. :D
Jocelyn Padoga - No, Spot doesn't let them have her persay... And Race feels pretty strongly for Misery. And if you mean what was the Gaelic that Spot was saying in Chapter 12? Pretty much he was telling her to feel better and have a good sleep. I lost the translation somewhere and I can't remember it exactly.
Irish Rover - MUAAAAAAAAHAHAHA.*rubs hands and cackles* Because I am cruel and evil! Don't forget.Oooh a puppy *runs after puppy*
Sarah Kate - Yay another new reviewer! I'd dance but I'm tired now. *pants* I'm glad you like my story! You're going to give me a swelled ego..
Brooke Lyn - Wow, thank you. I'm so glad to hear that you liked my story. I like the stories that suck you in so it's nice to hear that I can write 'em and make people feel emotions. That's what every writer tries to do.
Just Duck -- *grabs switchblade* Let's teach those mens a lesson. *nods* I know they're not as long as they could be. I try and try and then I get caught up in other things and I just want to update the damn thing. But I'm glad you're still reading! *hugs*
Chelsea - The Weeees---al...Right? Am I right? Getting into fights is nothing special, you get hurt. That's no fun. My friends beat on me all the time so I'm used to getting roughed up. My friend's boyfriend taught me how to punch years ago. It's all in how you hold your hands, and how quick you are. Hehe I know the whole 'violated' thing was kind of corny but aaaaah I dunno. Damnit. Spot in nothing but suspenders and pants. Yum. *drools* Yeah I liked the Racetrack curse thing. That made my day when I thought that up. God I'm a nerd.
Cabby1 - Yes! Those disgusting guys will get what they deserve. You know what happens to men in prison. *turns green* Ew. I'm gross.