Chap. 5: Phase One
Disclaimer: Why must you people make me remind myself? Why! WHY! I don't own Newsies! pouts I also don't own Whistler, Paul, or Lark. Jesus owns me.
"Don't call me 'love'," said Whistler flatly.
"Sorry."
Paul rolled his eyes.
"So, what do we do?"
"Well, first, you..."
eeeeeeeee
They schemed late into the day.
"This is never going to work," said Paul, as he, Lark, Whistler, and I stood looking up at the main MS mind-control tower.
"I thought you were the cheerful pessimist, Paul," I said, slightly annoyed by his -ahem- encouraging attitude. And the fact that he and Whistler had benn testing my sanity all day.
"I am. This defies cheerful pessism, though. This is borderline insanity."
"Shut up, Paul. She's the author. It'll work if she wants it to."
"And if she doesn't?"
"Why wouldn't she?"
"To extend the story!"
"Well, so what if she does? It wouldn't kill ya!"
"Says you! To add drama, she might."
"Your death wouldn't add drama."
"Thank you. Soooo much, Whistler. Glad you care."
"I'm glad you're glad."
"Shut up, Whistler."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes!"
"No!"
"YES!"
"NO!"
"YES!"
"Pipe. Down. Both of you. We're trying to be sneaky, and you guys aren't 5! You're driving me crazy!"
"Er," said Whistler and Paul in unison.
I used my author-y powers to zap Whistler's and Paul's mouths shut. Ah, silence.
"Whm-mmmmm-wmm-mmm!" said Paul, protesting having his mouth zapped shut.
Then Whistler, no longer able to whistle, started to hum Greensleeves. All the while, Paul was still mumbling animatedly. My eye started twitching and my voice got deadly quiet. I snapped. I turned around, glaring bullets at those two.
"You. Will. Stop. Now. I do not care if you want to. You will stop making any noise at ALL for ten freaking minutes," I said through clenched teeth.
They stopped. I un-zapped thier mouths and they started going at each other again, but I sent them this Look. That shut 'em up real quick.
"OK, Whistler, Paul, you remember what you're supposed to do, right?"
They both nodded.
"So, go do it!"
"OK!" they answered together in a sort of "Don't eat me!" tone. Heh-heh.
Whistler and Paul were supposed to distract the MS guards by-ugh-flirting with them so Lark and I could sneak in and reprogram the mind control waves.
"Would two lovely ladies such as yourselves care to join us?" we heard Whistler ask the guards.
Once we were sure they were gone, Lark and I carefully darted through the doors of the tower.
"Ok, we're in. What do we do now?" asked Lark.
"We climb up the stairs to the computer so we can reprogram it."
"Got it."
We snuck up the stairs, looking for the door marked 'Control Room'. We found it at the very top of the tower. We slowly opened the door to find... A HUGE KILLER RUBBER DUCKY! No, just a computer with the screensaver: 'Gone to lunch. Back in 5!' Lunch was 3 hours ago. So we sat down in front of the computer and set to work. It was disappointingly easy. Not that I was complaining.
"Done," I said as I pressed 'Enter' to save the new MS writer's block settings for the mind-control waves.
End Phase One.
