Author's Note: I really have no idea where this sprung from in brain, but it appeared, while I was playing Nazi Zombies and I don't know why but I thought: "Wouldn't it be cool if the newsies fought zombies?" So...here they are...fighting zombies. I whipped this up real fast and it is far from what I'd call my best work, ha ha, but I hope you at least get a little laugh out of it, or, if nothing else, you can use it as a tool for procrastination when you get desperate :)
Disclaimer: Newsies doesn't belong to me :( Nor does the idea of the Human Torch, Team Jacob, Batman, or Ethan Hawke and Michael Dorman...although I'd give almost anything for the last two :P
It was a chilly day in March when Les came running into the Newsboys Lodging House, a shell-shocked David in tow. "Guys!" Les shrieked in his prepubescent voice. "They're coming!"
And sure enough, as Specs glanced out the window, he saw a horde of slowly moving undead approach their Lodging House. Snitch automatically popped his thumb between his lips. This wasn't the first time zombies had attacked Manhattan, but now, with the majority of the population undead, it was bound to be quite the battle.
"Hey look!" Snoddy said, pointing out the window at a particular zombie. "It's Warden Snyder. How'd he get here? I thought he was locked away."
Hitching his blood stained crutch up defensively, Crutchy grumbled, "I eagerly await beheading him."
"I call Pulitzer!" Jack squealed, searching the crowd.
Kid Blink waved his hand, "Sorry Jack, but Pulitzer and Hurst locked themselves inside the World Building. They hired professional snipers to hit any passing undead, and if I'm not mistaken, they took a shot at me and Mush the last time we passed by there too…"
Mush crossed his arms and nodded his head vigorously. "Indeed."
"Damn," Jack swore, his hopes of decapitating Pulitzer crushed.
Dutchy clapped his leader on the back, turning him towards the window once again, "You can always get Weasel!" And, low and behold, there was a slightly more bloated Mr. Wiesel heading toward the Lodging House with the Delancey's stumbling behind him.
Sighing, Jack said, "I suppose that will have to do."
Racetrack shuffled some cards impatiently; the zombies were taking a mighty long time to make their way up the stairs of the Lodging House. When they had finally scrambled up the stairs, moaning all the while, they began to annoying bang upon the wooden planks, attempting, it seemed, to knock down the whole wall.
"Should I open the door?" Mush asked, always the polite one.
Blink shrugged, "Why not?"
And as Mush opened the Lodging House door, a wave of undead Manhattan citizens swarmed the group of newsboys. Mush theatrically screamed, just for the fun of it, and then began to do back flips, successfully decapitating many a zombie in his midst. Once he had reached the far wall of the Lodging House, he merely turned around and repeated his actions.
Blink flashed his gigantic grin. "Flame on!" he yelled, flying into the air in a flurry of fire.
"Interesting," David mused, watching as Blink zoomed around, setting miscellaneous zombies aflame. Then, because Davey didn't really have a talent or any super powers, he hid in a corner, waiting for Jack to rescue him gallantly.
Jack, who somehow came to the fortune of owning a super nifty utility belt, extracted some ninja stars and began flinging them about until Blink yelled, "Someone's going to lose an eye!"
Specs gave the one-eyed newsie a belittling glance. "Since when did you become me muddah?"
"I wasn't even yelling at you!" Blink defended himself before quickly igniting a zombie that had tried to take a bite out of his right arm.
Racetrack set up a poker game, weaseling the undead out of as much money as they had on them before kicking each in the groin and punching them across the face.
Les, who was quite good with a wooden sword, jumped about the room, slicing and dicing zombies into multiple rotting pieces, all the while singing "Lovey-Dovey Baby".
Boots hurtled shoes from the top of the stairs, effectively staving off many a zombie that tried to wobble up the staircase.
Snipeshooter went about shoving zombies onto the ground and laughing hysterically in his unnaturally low voice as he smoked a cigar he had stolen from Racetrack.
Swifty, the secret newsie ninja, leapt into the air and began swiftly kicking off the heads of any zombie surrounding him. Hence his name.
Bumlets, unsure as to what to do, grabbed hold of the nearest ceiling fan and began to spin in circles, praying to whatever watched over that he would make contact with nearby zombie heads.
Sarah, who, for reasons unknown, had been hanging around the Lodging House, was seized by a zombie and feasted upon as she was dragged out of a window.
"Aw, crap," Jack muttered to Mush, who had just somersaulted next to him, "She was the last undead female in Manhattan besides Medda."
"Ah!" Dutchy screamed, falling back, and swiping at his now puke covered face. Mr. Wiesel had just barfed over an entire section of the Lodging House. Coming to help, Skittery grabbed up one of the signs left over from the strike and continually bashed a couple zombies on the top of their heads before reaching Mr. Wiesel and getting vomited on as well.
When all hope seemed lost, and the newsboys of Manhattan thought they were going to be turned into the undead themselves, Spot popped out of nowhere. "Hey!" he growled, "Why was I not invited to this little shindig?" As he was asking this question, multiple Brooklyn boys began appearing out of nowhere, sling-shots at the ready. Spot Conlon had always considered the art of zombie slaying to be of the utmost importance and had prepared his boys well.
Spot took aim and let loose, hitting the nearest zombie square in the forehead. It made an annoying groaning sound and began to limp towards the fearless leader. "Screw this!" Spot shouted, pocketing his sling-shot and extracting a double-barrel shot gun from behind his back. "Lkdfjawie to you to!" And then he blew right through three zombies. "That's what I'm talking about!"
The other Brooklyn newsies followed suit, and before long the bulk of the Manhattan undead were now, in fact, dead.
Jack sauntered over to Spot, grinning, and spit in his hand as a way of thanks.
Spot smirked, accepting Jack's hand, "Couldn't let you have all the fun. Me and me boys haven't killed a zombie in a week, what with us taking out all Brooklyn undead within a matter of hours…"
Suddenly a screech was heard from above, and down from the rafters flew a ridiculously large bat.
"Aw, man!" Mush sighed in exhaustion, "Vampires, too?"
"TEAM JACOB!" Kid Blink yelled indignantly, stomping his foot for emphasis.
Jack shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "We're gonna need Ethan Hawke…"
"And his hot brother, Frankie," Snoddy piped up from the window, receiving many wide-eyed stares. He merely shrugged in reply.
Resting his gun upon his shoulder, Spot held his head high and smirked, "Bring it on."
Author's Note: Yes, I let my obsession for Daybreakers worm its way into this story, I'm sorry! I couldn't help it! Leave a review please :)