Hey ya'll! I'm so sorry I'm this late but I had to keep up my vigilance in
terms of my schoolwork, 'cuz it was the last of the quarter. It has paid
off, however, and I now have a 96.00 average : P so phooey to all you who
think I'm a nerd, for I AM! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Ahem, anyways, I watched Scary Movie 3 last night...
Boots: Oh, really?
NO! I'm just screwing with you! Ha ha ha ha ha!
Dude, I loved that movie! Review if you thought so ^_^ Anyway, I was terribly annoyed last night, as I was being visited by three P.G. Wodehouse characters after the movie. There is this strange thing that happens to me, it's when all these characters from different books or movies come to visit me. It's awfully trying and they always manage to eat all my brownies and drink my Pepsi. To all of you who do not know who P.G. Wodehouse is, he is a remarkable British writer with a whole collection of crazy characters, and I was visited that night by :
Bertie Wooster: a man who was born rich, excentric, lazy, and has never done a day's work in his life and most of his time is spent on strange pastimes such as playing the trombone badly and trying to play matchmaker for his friends...who've never worked either.
Jeeves: You never learn his last name, it's just Jeeves. He's Bertie's butler who always seems to know everything that's going on and manages to get his employer out of the strangest of circumstances, including in-laws to-be and friends who can't count.
Aloria Glossip: The most annoying, she slaps everyone on the back good naturedly...but usually makes them fall over in the process. She is loud and catches men who can't speak for themselves and tries to make them marry her...usually not succeeding, due to the brilliance of Jeeves.
Newsies: Jeeves Rocks!
Indeed he does...and, as a special treat for you all, he is going to deliver the disclaimer and answer the shoutouts!
Jeeves: Good heavens, miss.
Yes Jeeves, Indeed, but do go ahead, *Addresses readers* You won't kill him will you? Will you?
I think they said no.
Jeeves: Thank you, miss. Now, the first Shout out goes to... Wisecracker88: Yes, miss, being blond is a terrible burden to carry. However, if you have earl gray tea in the afternoon and take some tonic water just before you go to bed, you should have your cranial region in tip- top shape by the next morning.
JustDuck: Rereading is a pleasure, miss, but, if I may say so, your shoelaces are untied and that can result in a terrible fall down a flight of stairs, miss.
Sapphy: Miss, if I may suggest, going around renouncing home is not always the most intelligent thing to do for yourself in the long run, as your family might read it and find it necessary to...
Alright Jeeves, that'll be quite enough. Now, on to the disclaimer!
T_T Disclaimer T_T
*Shuffles through stack of papers* JEEVES! I lost my disclaimer!
Jeeves: Good heavens, miss.
It indirectly stated that I OWNED Newsies!
Jeeves: In which case, you would most likely have been sued, miss.
Well, that too...Jeeves, you wouldn't happen to have done something to it, would you?
Jeeves: Miss?
Oh, never mind. Just say whatever you want, Jeevsie, old pal.
Jeeves: Miss Rockeman does not own Newsies, and would like to inform the Disney Lawyers, that she bids Harry Sherman, vice president of the council, a happy birthday.
I do?
Jeeves: Yes, miss.
Right, I do! Anyway, tally-ho, eh Jeeves?
Jeeves: Indeed, miss.
~Engagements, Storms, and Pants~
It was snowing, four o'clock on Christmas morning, and Spot Conlon couldn't sleep a wink.
"Tiggah, what I's gots ta say is, well, dat, I love youse and I wanna be wid you foah da rest o' me life," Spot seemed to consider his last sentence, made to thin air, but then his nose wrinkled. "DAT STINKS!"
Spot almost threw the ring in his hand on the dirty floor and continued pacing. The ring was extremely small, and it was only a jade, but it was all he could get, seeing as how he had to pay Race back for the past five poker games he lost. Race had to get his girl a present too.
But even though that was taken care of, THIS was going all wrong, he couldn't think up a good speech and he had to propose to Tigger before she went anywhere. Meaning, he looked at the clock on his wall and found that he had only one hour left before he had to drag Tigger someplace out of the way and propose.
But he had been trying to think of something since seven o'clock last night, and nothing sounded right. It was either too sappy, or stupid, or, like the last one, very un-Spot like.
Spot flopped down on his lumpy mattress and considered his situation. He was, at nearly eighteen, terribly in love with a fifteen-year-old girl, which was ridiculous, and he wanted to marry her, which was loony, and he was trying to think about which kind of proposal would be best.
What was happening to him? He used to be the most respected and feared Newsie in New York City, and now he was nearly being reduced to tears by a GIRL!
Yes, indeed, nearly reduced to tears. Mostly because of exhaustion, but frustration can be very motivating. He had to say, or do, something, or he swore he would go stark-raving mad, and he did. Spot Conlon fell asleep a half-hour before he was supposed to wake up.
"HEYA SPOT!" An extremely cheerful voice rang out inside his own bedroom and his left eye-lid pried itself open, just in time to see a tallish blond figure literally skip over to his bed. "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"
Spot tried to make his smiling muscles work...but nothing happened, and his right eye-lid pried itself open. "Heya ta you too, but ain't it kinda oily ta be up, Tiggah?" Spot was now officially on the edge and wasn't sure he could be civil any longer, not that Tigger could take offense. There fights usually went something like this...
Tigger: You are such a jerk! I hate your guts, How could you!
Spot: I's sorry Tiggah.
Tigger: Oh, OK.
And he was forgiven, zip, like that. She was very odd, but then again, she WAS friends with Red, who was as strange as they come, outside of Skittery, and Dutchy. He propped himself up on his elbows and motioned for Tigger to sit next to him. She was certainly cheerful enough this morning; she skipped, again, over to him and sat down. Spot pulled her down to him and into a short kiss.
"Dere, much bettah." Spot declared as he scooted his suspenders up to his shoulders and walked out of the room.
Tigger looked confused for a minute and then followed him out of the room. "What do you mean, 'much better'?" She called down the hall, trying to find Spot in the clutter of the Brooklyn lodging house.
"It helps me wake up in da moanin, and I didn' sleep well."
Tigger still looked confused.
~~~~~~~~
"JINGLE-BELLS, JINGLE-BELLS, JINGLE AAAAAALLLL THE WAAAAAAAYYYYY" Snipeshooter rode down the banisters with Red's hat, and Red coming after him.
"Do you want a fat lip, Snipe?"
"OH WHAT FUN IT IIIIIIIIISSSS TO RIDE IN A ONE HORSE SOAP AND SLEEEEEEEIIIIGH!" The newsboy had no mercy and was now pouring chestnuts that he had nicked the day earlier into her hat.
"It's 'One horse OPEN sleigh', and if you don't shut your pie-hole right now and give me my hat it's gonna be a 'One horse open SLAY'!"
Snipeshooter glanced up at the girl, faking offense. "Ya wouldn't kill me, would ya, Red?"
"You wanna see if I would or not?" The redhead shot threateningly.
Snipe tried to dive into the kitchen but no sooner had he taken a step towards it then his way was blocked by Red, hair everywhere and fuming. She grabbed Snipe by his collar and had him in a head-lock before you could say 'Here We Come a' Wassailing'...which Jack was doing at that very moment, at the top of his voice.
"Moanin, Red." The tall boy announced between his singing, ruffling her hair and starting to walk out the door, only to find his way blocked by a struggling Snipeshooter and a now laughing Red.
"Take him with you, for the love of Pete, or I'm gonna go crazy!"
Jack just smiled. "Merry Christmas ta you too. Do ya want me ta drag Spot and Tiggah back wid' me?"
"Merry Christmas, and yes, bring Dog-face and Robertson too."
"Wow, dat big a ta-do, huh? Well, I'll make sure dey's oal commin'. You do know dat I's stallin ya, jus' foah da sake a a real good practical joke." Jack raised an eyebrow and smirked.
Red shot him a double take. "What do you mean, 'a real good practical joke'?" She looked around her, and wished she hadn't. There they were. How they had sneaked up on her like that she didn't know, but they were baring down on her like a pack of lions, all of them...
The Boys
Skittery grinned. "Whatcha say, huh, Cowboy? Now?"
"Yeah, now's good."
Red looked confused, and was. She took a step back, and ran into Swifty, who was giggling so hard he had to lean on Itey.
"Heya, Red, ya know how ya always said dat you'se nevah had a white Christmas befoah?"
Red nudged Swifty aside, only to run into Mush, who was looking taller than usual. "Yeeeeeaaaaahhhh?"
"Well, I'm guessin' dat means youse neva been stoamed?" Jack was enjoying this immensely, and Red was growing more and more nervous by the second.
"What's stormed?"
"Well, foist," Specs grabbed her arm to prevent her escape, and Boots grabbed her ankles.
"We take ya outside and we hold ya, right ovah a snow bank," Red's eyes got wide.
"And den, he shove ya in, drag you out," Jake grabbed her other arm.
"And repeat da procedure several times, and den, we take ya out," Red's mouth hung down to her waist.
"And put snow down yoah pants, shoit, shoes, a little up yoah nose in yoah mouth, and DEN," Red started to struggle for real, and Dutchy and Pie-Eater picked up her feet, sending her swinging between the four boys.
"We hold ya down right in front a da buildin' and pour dat moahnin's wash watah ovah youse."
Red looked somewhere between desperate, swearing a blue streak, and laughing. "You wouldn't...um, guys, Don't go out that door! PUT ME DOWN!"
She tried to kick, but it was no use. "JACK! I'M GOING TO KICK YOAH SORRY EXCUSE FOAH A BUTT FROM HEAH TA KINGDOM COME!"
Red stuck her limbs out as far as she could and then yanked them back in fast, pulling herself out of the boys' grip. She rolled over quickly and squirmed her way over the shorter boys and shot up the stairs with the whole crowd of boys in hot pursuit.
Boots was the first one to the landing and called down below. "She's going up ta da top floor!"
The boys were already climbing over Boots, yelling such taunts as they could while sprinting like mad.
"Ya can run, but ya can't hide!"
"Come and get nice and cooled off!"
"We's gonna getcha!"
"NOOOOOOO!!!"
Unfortunately, the 'NO' came from Red, who was crouched in a corner of the third floor and was nearly giggling like mad-woman.
Dutchy bent down to grab her arm and Snoddy reached down to grab her other arm...and so, bit by bit, our poor Red was paraded down the stairs by a mob of warm-hearted boys who were quite getting into the spirit of things...even Skittery.
"Jack...Please..." Red panted, trying to stop laughing long enough to plead for her life.
"Nuttin' doin' Red. I've waited foah months ta do dis."
"Boots! You...gotta...save me!"
"Nuh-uh! You put that spider in my bunk last week...I intend to do you great damage, as far as snow is concerned."
"RACEY!" Red was grabbing at straws...and she knew it.
"Don't worry Red, I's gonna give youse a good kiss befoah dey drop ya in so you'll be nice an' wahm."
There were a few whoops, which did not do anything to improve the spirit of the poor redhead.
The boy's carried her outside talking, non-concerned with the person slung between the lot of them and when they arrived at the Distribution Center all of them headed to a large snow-bank and, rather nonchalantly, threw her in.
Jack grabbed her arm and dragged her out again. "Now...would youse like it down yoah collah, or yoah pants foist?"
"I plead the fifth!"
"OK, down da collah it is. Come on guys!"
The process of storming was rather complicated, but, sooner or later the snow had worked its way sufficiently up Red's nose, into her ears, down her coller...and her pants, and was soaking her hair.
For some reason or another, however, Red was complaining.
"FRICK! It's COLD!"
"Yeah, Snow usually is." That voice...Racetrack.
"Where's my kiss, you doity rotten scabbah?"
"Racetrack Higgins looked ovah da hole in da snow where his beloved lay, dead as a doahnail...befoah clutching his hand ovah his haht...Like so...and saying: 'Geneva, me love, I was yoah knight in shinin' armuh, and I failed dee, so I shall plant one on yoah kissa, ta rememba youse by."
Race picked Red out of the snow by her collar and...needless to say...
"Dat was pretty pathetic foah a knight in shinin' armuh!" Red complained as she smacked Racetrack on the face, just hard enough for it to sound.
"And wid dat, the Knight buried his beloved...like so..." Race plunged Red back into the snow-bank and threw a full shovel of snow over the top of her, "and kissed her grave...like so...and walked away, his soul silently weeping."
"YOUSE not gonna be weepin' SILENTLY when I get t'rough wid YOU, RACETRACK HIGGINS!!!"
"Such a savage heart, even in death...I shall miss dee."
"You SUCK!" Clearing the snow out of her mouth and nose, and wondering when the snow that had worked it's way down her collar would melt and run down her underwear, not that the other snow already hadn't.
She trouped up to the crowd of boys, plugging one side of her nose and trying to blow the snow out of the other, and ran up to the group, just to find them staring dumbly.
"You guuuuuuuyyyyyyysssss...what's going on?"
Nobody answered.
"Race, tell me I'm seein' things, just tell me I'm seein' things..." Boots was rubbing his temples.
Race took the cigar out of his mouth. "Naw, you ain't seeing things..."
"Dat's Sarah!"
"In pigtails!"
"In PANTS!"
"Standing in line at the distribution center!" The last was Red, who was walking up to Sarah as everyone stared.
Sarah seemed completely unconcerned. "Hey Red! How's it going?"
"Um, fine, I think, but, you don't mind if I ask..."
"What I'm doing here?"
"Yeah, something like that."
Sarah tugged thoughtfully on one of her pigtails before answering. "Well, I cussed out my boss."
"Oh, you cussed out your--WHAT?" Red tried to regain her bearings and took her hat out of Snipeshooter's hands and stuck it on her head, taking Race's cigar out of his mouth and taking a couple puffs. "OK, so, what happened?"
"Well, he was being a jerk today, like he always is, and then I was trying to finish this piece of sewing, and my fingers really hurt and I accidentally sewed two stitches onto my skirt. He blew his top, and called me a bunch of names before I decided I was even more pissed than he was and I called him a..." Sarah leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered something into Red's ear, but everyone's surprise greatened when she kept whispering, and whispering, and after about three minutes Red started giggling madly. Before long Red was clutching her sides and tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"Well, welcome to da newsies, where life always sucks and the food's awful...or so Skittsy thinks."
Sarah let out a long loud guffaw that pried Snipe's eyes as large as saucers. "Hey, where's Jack?"
"He's looking at yoah butt. Dose pants ah pretty tight on ya."
"Yeah, I had to find David's biggest pair. His butt's so friggin' small."
"Yeah, I noticed, but I still say dat cowboy's enjoyin' da view."
Sarah snorted. "Well, I've gotta get his attention SOMEHOW...he spends so much time sellin' and 'tomorrow's headline'."
"I know, but aren't you gonna get yoah papes?"
"Yeah. Commin' with me?"
"Wouldn't miss it foah da woild Sarah, not for da woild." The two girls approached the window grinning, completely oblivious to the crowd of bemused boys standing behind them.
Jack was quite interested in the spectacle. "Heya, Race, whatcha think'a oal dis?"
"I plead da fifth."
**********************************
Ha HA! I have ya'll hooked now! There are THREE parts to this Christmas section...so now you'll HAVE to stick around *^_^* REVIEW...say it with me...RE- VIEW...RE-VIEW...
Ahem, anyways, I watched Scary Movie 3 last night...
Boots: Oh, really?
NO! I'm just screwing with you! Ha ha ha ha ha!
Dude, I loved that movie! Review if you thought so ^_^ Anyway, I was terribly annoyed last night, as I was being visited by three P.G. Wodehouse characters after the movie. There is this strange thing that happens to me, it's when all these characters from different books or movies come to visit me. It's awfully trying and they always manage to eat all my brownies and drink my Pepsi. To all of you who do not know who P.G. Wodehouse is, he is a remarkable British writer with a whole collection of crazy characters, and I was visited that night by :
Bertie Wooster: a man who was born rich, excentric, lazy, and has never done a day's work in his life and most of his time is spent on strange pastimes such as playing the trombone badly and trying to play matchmaker for his friends...who've never worked either.
Jeeves: You never learn his last name, it's just Jeeves. He's Bertie's butler who always seems to know everything that's going on and manages to get his employer out of the strangest of circumstances, including in-laws to-be and friends who can't count.
Aloria Glossip: The most annoying, she slaps everyone on the back good naturedly...but usually makes them fall over in the process. She is loud and catches men who can't speak for themselves and tries to make them marry her...usually not succeeding, due to the brilliance of Jeeves.
Newsies: Jeeves Rocks!
Indeed he does...and, as a special treat for you all, he is going to deliver the disclaimer and answer the shoutouts!
Jeeves: Good heavens, miss.
Yes Jeeves, Indeed, but do go ahead, *Addresses readers* You won't kill him will you? Will you?
I think they said no.
Jeeves: Thank you, miss. Now, the first Shout out goes to... Wisecracker88: Yes, miss, being blond is a terrible burden to carry. However, if you have earl gray tea in the afternoon and take some tonic water just before you go to bed, you should have your cranial region in tip- top shape by the next morning.
JustDuck: Rereading is a pleasure, miss, but, if I may say so, your shoelaces are untied and that can result in a terrible fall down a flight of stairs, miss.
Sapphy: Miss, if I may suggest, going around renouncing home is not always the most intelligent thing to do for yourself in the long run, as your family might read it and find it necessary to...
Alright Jeeves, that'll be quite enough. Now, on to the disclaimer!
T_T Disclaimer T_T
*Shuffles through stack of papers* JEEVES! I lost my disclaimer!
Jeeves: Good heavens, miss.
It indirectly stated that I OWNED Newsies!
Jeeves: In which case, you would most likely have been sued, miss.
Well, that too...Jeeves, you wouldn't happen to have done something to it, would you?
Jeeves: Miss?
Oh, never mind. Just say whatever you want, Jeevsie, old pal.
Jeeves: Miss Rockeman does not own Newsies, and would like to inform the Disney Lawyers, that she bids Harry Sherman, vice president of the council, a happy birthday.
I do?
Jeeves: Yes, miss.
Right, I do! Anyway, tally-ho, eh Jeeves?
Jeeves: Indeed, miss.
~Engagements, Storms, and Pants~
It was snowing, four o'clock on Christmas morning, and Spot Conlon couldn't sleep a wink.
"Tiggah, what I's gots ta say is, well, dat, I love youse and I wanna be wid you foah da rest o' me life," Spot seemed to consider his last sentence, made to thin air, but then his nose wrinkled. "DAT STINKS!"
Spot almost threw the ring in his hand on the dirty floor and continued pacing. The ring was extremely small, and it was only a jade, but it was all he could get, seeing as how he had to pay Race back for the past five poker games he lost. Race had to get his girl a present too.
But even though that was taken care of, THIS was going all wrong, he couldn't think up a good speech and he had to propose to Tigger before she went anywhere. Meaning, he looked at the clock on his wall and found that he had only one hour left before he had to drag Tigger someplace out of the way and propose.
But he had been trying to think of something since seven o'clock last night, and nothing sounded right. It was either too sappy, or stupid, or, like the last one, very un-Spot like.
Spot flopped down on his lumpy mattress and considered his situation. He was, at nearly eighteen, terribly in love with a fifteen-year-old girl, which was ridiculous, and he wanted to marry her, which was loony, and he was trying to think about which kind of proposal would be best.
What was happening to him? He used to be the most respected and feared Newsie in New York City, and now he was nearly being reduced to tears by a GIRL!
Yes, indeed, nearly reduced to tears. Mostly because of exhaustion, but frustration can be very motivating. He had to say, or do, something, or he swore he would go stark-raving mad, and he did. Spot Conlon fell asleep a half-hour before he was supposed to wake up.
"HEYA SPOT!" An extremely cheerful voice rang out inside his own bedroom and his left eye-lid pried itself open, just in time to see a tallish blond figure literally skip over to his bed. "MERRY CHRISTMAS!"
Spot tried to make his smiling muscles work...but nothing happened, and his right eye-lid pried itself open. "Heya ta you too, but ain't it kinda oily ta be up, Tiggah?" Spot was now officially on the edge and wasn't sure he could be civil any longer, not that Tigger could take offense. There fights usually went something like this...
Tigger: You are such a jerk! I hate your guts, How could you!
Spot: I's sorry Tiggah.
Tigger: Oh, OK.
And he was forgiven, zip, like that. She was very odd, but then again, she WAS friends with Red, who was as strange as they come, outside of Skittery, and Dutchy. He propped himself up on his elbows and motioned for Tigger to sit next to him. She was certainly cheerful enough this morning; she skipped, again, over to him and sat down. Spot pulled her down to him and into a short kiss.
"Dere, much bettah." Spot declared as he scooted his suspenders up to his shoulders and walked out of the room.
Tigger looked confused for a minute and then followed him out of the room. "What do you mean, 'much better'?" She called down the hall, trying to find Spot in the clutter of the Brooklyn lodging house.
"It helps me wake up in da moanin, and I didn' sleep well."
Tigger still looked confused.
~~~~~~~~
"JINGLE-BELLS, JINGLE-BELLS, JINGLE AAAAAALLLL THE WAAAAAAAYYYYY" Snipeshooter rode down the banisters with Red's hat, and Red coming after him.
"Do you want a fat lip, Snipe?"
"OH WHAT FUN IT IIIIIIIIISSSS TO RIDE IN A ONE HORSE SOAP AND SLEEEEEEEIIIIGH!" The newsboy had no mercy and was now pouring chestnuts that he had nicked the day earlier into her hat.
"It's 'One horse OPEN sleigh', and if you don't shut your pie-hole right now and give me my hat it's gonna be a 'One horse open SLAY'!"
Snipeshooter glanced up at the girl, faking offense. "Ya wouldn't kill me, would ya, Red?"
"You wanna see if I would or not?" The redhead shot threateningly.
Snipe tried to dive into the kitchen but no sooner had he taken a step towards it then his way was blocked by Red, hair everywhere and fuming. She grabbed Snipe by his collar and had him in a head-lock before you could say 'Here We Come a' Wassailing'...which Jack was doing at that very moment, at the top of his voice.
"Moanin, Red." The tall boy announced between his singing, ruffling her hair and starting to walk out the door, only to find his way blocked by a struggling Snipeshooter and a now laughing Red.
"Take him with you, for the love of Pete, or I'm gonna go crazy!"
Jack just smiled. "Merry Christmas ta you too. Do ya want me ta drag Spot and Tiggah back wid' me?"
"Merry Christmas, and yes, bring Dog-face and Robertson too."
"Wow, dat big a ta-do, huh? Well, I'll make sure dey's oal commin'. You do know dat I's stallin ya, jus' foah da sake a a real good practical joke." Jack raised an eyebrow and smirked.
Red shot him a double take. "What do you mean, 'a real good practical joke'?" She looked around her, and wished she hadn't. There they were. How they had sneaked up on her like that she didn't know, but they were baring down on her like a pack of lions, all of them...
The Boys
Skittery grinned. "Whatcha say, huh, Cowboy? Now?"
"Yeah, now's good."
Red looked confused, and was. She took a step back, and ran into Swifty, who was giggling so hard he had to lean on Itey.
"Heya, Red, ya know how ya always said dat you'se nevah had a white Christmas befoah?"
Red nudged Swifty aside, only to run into Mush, who was looking taller than usual. "Yeeeeeaaaaahhhh?"
"Well, I'm guessin' dat means youse neva been stoamed?" Jack was enjoying this immensely, and Red was growing more and more nervous by the second.
"What's stormed?"
"Well, foist," Specs grabbed her arm to prevent her escape, and Boots grabbed her ankles.
"We take ya outside and we hold ya, right ovah a snow bank," Red's eyes got wide.
"And den, he shove ya in, drag you out," Jake grabbed her other arm.
"And repeat da procedure several times, and den, we take ya out," Red's mouth hung down to her waist.
"And put snow down yoah pants, shoit, shoes, a little up yoah nose in yoah mouth, and DEN," Red started to struggle for real, and Dutchy and Pie-Eater picked up her feet, sending her swinging between the four boys.
"We hold ya down right in front a da buildin' and pour dat moahnin's wash watah ovah youse."
Red looked somewhere between desperate, swearing a blue streak, and laughing. "You wouldn't...um, guys, Don't go out that door! PUT ME DOWN!"
She tried to kick, but it was no use. "JACK! I'M GOING TO KICK YOAH SORRY EXCUSE FOAH A BUTT FROM HEAH TA KINGDOM COME!"
Red stuck her limbs out as far as she could and then yanked them back in fast, pulling herself out of the boys' grip. She rolled over quickly and squirmed her way over the shorter boys and shot up the stairs with the whole crowd of boys in hot pursuit.
Boots was the first one to the landing and called down below. "She's going up ta da top floor!"
The boys were already climbing over Boots, yelling such taunts as they could while sprinting like mad.
"Ya can run, but ya can't hide!"
"Come and get nice and cooled off!"
"We's gonna getcha!"
"NOOOOOOO!!!"
Unfortunately, the 'NO' came from Red, who was crouched in a corner of the third floor and was nearly giggling like mad-woman.
Dutchy bent down to grab her arm and Snoddy reached down to grab her other arm...and so, bit by bit, our poor Red was paraded down the stairs by a mob of warm-hearted boys who were quite getting into the spirit of things...even Skittery.
"Jack...Please..." Red panted, trying to stop laughing long enough to plead for her life.
"Nuttin' doin' Red. I've waited foah months ta do dis."
"Boots! You...gotta...save me!"
"Nuh-uh! You put that spider in my bunk last week...I intend to do you great damage, as far as snow is concerned."
"RACEY!" Red was grabbing at straws...and she knew it.
"Don't worry Red, I's gonna give youse a good kiss befoah dey drop ya in so you'll be nice an' wahm."
There were a few whoops, which did not do anything to improve the spirit of the poor redhead.
The boy's carried her outside talking, non-concerned with the person slung between the lot of them and when they arrived at the Distribution Center all of them headed to a large snow-bank and, rather nonchalantly, threw her in.
Jack grabbed her arm and dragged her out again. "Now...would youse like it down yoah collah, or yoah pants foist?"
"I plead the fifth!"
"OK, down da collah it is. Come on guys!"
The process of storming was rather complicated, but, sooner or later the snow had worked its way sufficiently up Red's nose, into her ears, down her coller...and her pants, and was soaking her hair.
For some reason or another, however, Red was complaining.
"FRICK! It's COLD!"
"Yeah, Snow usually is." That voice...Racetrack.
"Where's my kiss, you doity rotten scabbah?"
"Racetrack Higgins looked ovah da hole in da snow where his beloved lay, dead as a doahnail...befoah clutching his hand ovah his haht...Like so...and saying: 'Geneva, me love, I was yoah knight in shinin' armuh, and I failed dee, so I shall plant one on yoah kissa, ta rememba youse by."
Race picked Red out of the snow by her collar and...needless to say...
"Dat was pretty pathetic foah a knight in shinin' armuh!" Red complained as she smacked Racetrack on the face, just hard enough for it to sound.
"And wid dat, the Knight buried his beloved...like so..." Race plunged Red back into the snow-bank and threw a full shovel of snow over the top of her, "and kissed her grave...like so...and walked away, his soul silently weeping."
"YOUSE not gonna be weepin' SILENTLY when I get t'rough wid YOU, RACETRACK HIGGINS!!!"
"Such a savage heart, even in death...I shall miss dee."
"You SUCK!" Clearing the snow out of her mouth and nose, and wondering when the snow that had worked it's way down her collar would melt and run down her underwear, not that the other snow already hadn't.
She trouped up to the crowd of boys, plugging one side of her nose and trying to blow the snow out of the other, and ran up to the group, just to find them staring dumbly.
"You guuuuuuuyyyyyyysssss...what's going on?"
Nobody answered.
"Race, tell me I'm seein' things, just tell me I'm seein' things..." Boots was rubbing his temples.
Race took the cigar out of his mouth. "Naw, you ain't seeing things..."
"Dat's Sarah!"
"In pigtails!"
"In PANTS!"
"Standing in line at the distribution center!" The last was Red, who was walking up to Sarah as everyone stared.
Sarah seemed completely unconcerned. "Hey Red! How's it going?"
"Um, fine, I think, but, you don't mind if I ask..."
"What I'm doing here?"
"Yeah, something like that."
Sarah tugged thoughtfully on one of her pigtails before answering. "Well, I cussed out my boss."
"Oh, you cussed out your--WHAT?" Red tried to regain her bearings and took her hat out of Snipeshooter's hands and stuck it on her head, taking Race's cigar out of his mouth and taking a couple puffs. "OK, so, what happened?"
"Well, he was being a jerk today, like he always is, and then I was trying to finish this piece of sewing, and my fingers really hurt and I accidentally sewed two stitches onto my skirt. He blew his top, and called me a bunch of names before I decided I was even more pissed than he was and I called him a..." Sarah leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered something into Red's ear, but everyone's surprise greatened when she kept whispering, and whispering, and after about three minutes Red started giggling madly. Before long Red was clutching her sides and tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"Well, welcome to da newsies, where life always sucks and the food's awful...or so Skittsy thinks."
Sarah let out a long loud guffaw that pried Snipe's eyes as large as saucers. "Hey, where's Jack?"
"He's looking at yoah butt. Dose pants ah pretty tight on ya."
"Yeah, I had to find David's biggest pair. His butt's so friggin' small."
"Yeah, I noticed, but I still say dat cowboy's enjoyin' da view."
Sarah snorted. "Well, I've gotta get his attention SOMEHOW...he spends so much time sellin' and 'tomorrow's headline'."
"I know, but aren't you gonna get yoah papes?"
"Yeah. Commin' with me?"
"Wouldn't miss it foah da woild Sarah, not for da woild." The two girls approached the window grinning, completely oblivious to the crowd of bemused boys standing behind them.
Jack was quite interested in the spectacle. "Heya, Race, whatcha think'a oal dis?"
"I plead da fifth."
**********************************
Ha HA! I have ya'll hooked now! There are THREE parts to this Christmas section...so now you'll HAVE to stick around *^_^* REVIEW...say it with me...RE- VIEW...RE-VIEW...
