Shox
"Nevah feah, Brooklyn is heah!" I looked up and saw Spot, along with his Brooklyn army, armed with slingshots. The gangsters that were just about to kill Race and I looked up too, but it was too late. Brooklyn had already fired. Howls rose up from every direction, howls of pain. Race and I ran before those guys could get back on us. Spot swung down on a rope and spit-shook with Cowboy. All the newsies took care of the rest, punching, kicking, and overall hurting the gangsters. All of Brooklyn was down by then, and they crowded in with us. Denton, the guy who was covering the strike news for us, shouted for us to look and he snapped a picture of us that went in the newspapers. The next day, all of the newsies met at Tibby's. Denton arrived at about the same time as someone I knew…
"Krissie? Is that you?" I turned and saw Rachael, my best friend (who I had not expected to come to New York).
"I was, until I became Shox." I informed her. "What brings you here, Rachael?"
"Rachael?" she laughed. "Who is Rachael? I'm Lasso, and I don't know any Rachaels. I am a newsie too, you know. I have just been sick for a while, and I just heard about the strike and about someone getting a new boyfriend." she giggled and turned towards Race, who was obviously not listening.
"Whazzat about a boyfriend?" He said after a few minutes of total unawareness of existing.
"Oh, nothing." I said. You're hopeless. I thought. Lasso snickered behind me. She suddenly straightened up.
"And, speaking of a boyfriend, where's mine?" She asked. She began looking around at all the tables in the room. "Eenie… meenie… miney… there he is!" She sauntered over to the table in the corner, where Cowboy, Davey, Spot, and Les were sitting. Cowboy saw Lasso and gave that retarded tongue-to-tooth grin that everybody still laughs at, but apparently Rachael was (and still is) immune to it.
"Helloooowww, Lasso. You feelin' better?" He asked.
"Yeah, I am." she said. She grinned and sat down next to him. Since I saw that there was no one else to talk to, I took a seat next to Race. I would have even if there was anyone to talk to, but still. I sat next to Race. End of story. Let's move on. Okay, I sat next to Race, and then Denton came in.
"Hey, fellas!" he said. Shouts of "Hey Denton!" and "You got da paper?" came from everywhere in the room. Spot immediately ran over to Cowboy, who Denton had handed the paper to, and started going, "Where's me pitcha, where's me pitcha?" I walked over, not really caring whether I was in the paper or not, and looked at the headline. It read:
CHILDREN'S CRUSADE
NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD
Stop the world? There was nothing about that in the job description…
"So, big deal," said Skittery.
"Yeah, big deal," repeated Shorty.
"You get your pitcha in da papes, what's dat getcha?" growled Skittery.
Racetrack made a face.
"Shut up, boy," yelled Cowboy. "You've been in a bad mood all day!"
"I ain't in a bad mood," sneered Skittery.
"Youse glum and dumb!" Race barked, as he slapped Skittery in the face. "You get youah pitcha in da papes, youah famous. Youah famous, youse get anythin' you want. An' dat's what's so great about New York!"
A whole bunch of "yeah"s chorused from around the room. Our drinks came, and we all grabbed one, except for Mush and Kid Blink, who had to share one, courtesy of Racetrack.
"So, you have your picture in the papers," said Denton. "Now you've just gotta make sure you stay there."
"Hmmm… you're right," said Cowboy. "So let's have a rally! We'll make it the biggest, loudest blowout this town has ever seen, so the other newspapers will feel stupid if they don't write about it!" All of the newsies cheered, and raised their glasses.
"To our man Denton," said Davey.
"To our man Denton!" chorused everyone else. Little did I know, the rally was going to be the worst day of my 19-year life.