It was all because of this damn Denton thing- Denton being Bryan Denton, the newspaper reporter who had covered the newsie strike not so long ago. During the strike, he and David had become good friends. Hell, David thought, it only made sense. All the rest of the newsies were nice enough guys, but even put all together they didn't have the brains of a cabbage. And fishing through their horrible "New Yawk" accents to figure out what they were saying was about as easy as bobbing for apples in tar...and about as much fun, too. At least with Denton he could carry on an intelligent conversation!

Of course, the newsies didn't see things that way. No, they had to be stupid and immature about it...David angrily kicked a stone across the street as he walked. They all made fun of him, winking and teasing and asking how things were going with "his man Denton." Couldn't they understand a simple friendship between two (manly) men? David grew increasingly infuriated as he got closer to Tibby's. They were probably talking about him right now...making stupid jokes about why he was late, where he'd been...He reached Tibby's and wrenched the door open, in a thoroughly rotten mood now. If anyone said anything to him about Denton today he'd...he'd...

"Hey Davey! Whatsa matta? Ya looks tired...gotta start gettin' more sleep at night, I t'ink!" Racetrack winked at David and nudged Kid Blink with his left elbow. Blink stifled laughter.

"Yeah, Davey, Race's right. Maybe you should skip lunch an' go home an' hit da gay...I mean, hay. Hit da hay." That was Skittery. There were scattered chuckles around the room. David glared at Skittery, currently being congratulated by Itey for his brilliant comment.

"Hey guys, cut it...it ain't funny," Jack piped up from the corner of the room. Finally! David thought. Someone with some sense! Jack had always been a good friend...the snickers subsided. Jack glanced up at David.

"Don't mind 'em, Davey. Sit down...yer lunch is gettin' cold. I ordered yer favorite." A slow smirk crept over Jack's face as he held up one of Tibby's jumbo hot dogs. "A WEINER BETWEEN BUNS!!!" Jack yelled, and the entire restaurant erupted into gales of laughter. Feet stamped and fists pounded tables. Boots fell out of his chair while holding his sides. Pie Eater squirted milk out of his nose and hit Snipeshooter square in the eyes, which only caused the newsies to laugh even harder.

David stood. He stared. He fumed. He seethed. And finally...he exploded.
"THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT! ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP!! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!"

Silence fell and David's scream echoed. "Geez, Davey, we was just kiddin'..." Dutchy tried to explain.

David laughed cynically. "Sure! Sure! Just kidding! I'll bet you were! But guess what...I'm not! Not anymore! It's not funny anymore! I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH BRYAN DENTON! And you know what else? I'm tired of all you jerks acting so damn superior all the time...gossiping about me behind my back like I've got some kind of an evil secret! I don't!"

"Okay, Davey, okay!" said Specs. "Calm down."

"I AM CALM!!!!" David hollered. "You guys think I'm the one with the secrets?? Hah! You don't even know what's going on under your own toes. Take Race, for example."

Race perked up and scowled at David. "Whaddaya mean?" he asked nervously. The other newsies exchanged glances and looked questioningly at David.

David snickered. "Sure, Race, you don't know what I mean. I just think all the other newsies would be interested to know what it is that actually attracts you to the track all the time." David turned to face the other newsies. "I know what you all think...that Racetrack is just a harmless gambling addict with no money to spend. Get real! Think about it! We all know about those horsie magazines you keep hidden under your bunk at the Lodging House! And I bet all the guys would be REAL interested in hearing about that little encounter between you and "Third Time Lucky," wouldn't they, Race??"

Racetrack said nothing, just turned red and sunk low in his seat. The newsies tried to stifle their laughter, but Specs in particular was unsuccessful. He let out a huge guffaw. David wheeled to face him.

"What's so funny, you four-eyed twit? You think I don't know about you? You're the one who makes all those midnight trips to Medda's place...which for those of you who hadn't figured it out, is really a whorehouse! That's right, it's a brothel! And Medda runs the whole thing...she's a tramp, a floozy, a jezebel! A hooker, a streetwalker, a lady of the night..."

Specs muttered, "Enough already, Davey. I t'ink dey gets da picture."

David smiled evilly. "But I do know something you don't know, Specs. Twenty years ago, Medda Larkson gave birth to an illegitimate love child...a son she gave away."

"No!" Specs whispered. "Say it ain't so, Davey..."

"Ha ha! It IS so! That boy was you, Specs! And neither of you knew it until now!" David doubled up with laughter.

"Medda's me mudda?" Specs asked, with tears sparkling in his eyes.

"Dat's...kinda gross, buddy," said Mush, glancing with disdain at the crumpled form of Specs, who was now crying with his head upon the table.

"Oh, sure, you're one to talk, Mush!" David was on a roll now. This was starting to feel really good! "You muscle-bound freak! Look at you! You're fourteen years old and you have the physique of Arnold Schwartzenegger!* That'd be really cool if it was natural...but it's not! You're a freakin' steroid addict!" David looked around the room at the newsies. "Yep, boys, you heard it here. Extry, extry, Mush is on the 'roids! Oh and Mush," David turned back to him, "while I'm at it, do something about your hair. It looks like something my cat coughed up."
David's eyes scanned the crowd for his next victim. They landed on...

"Spot!" Spot gazed levelly at David, as if taunting him to try it. David just cackled. "Hah! You think I'm afraid of you? You think anyone's afraid of you?"

"Of course ev'ryone's afraida me. I'm Spot Conlon. I rules Brooklyn...I'm da most feahed newsie in New Yawk," Spot drawled.

"Good one, Spot! Sure, yeah, EVERYONE'S afraid of the great Spot Conlon. WHATEVER! Look at you! You're a ninety-eight pound weakling...my little brother could beat the crap outta you with one fist tied behind his back! Eat a meal, for God's sake. Eat three...or better yet, hit Mush up for some of his magic muscle pills! No one is afraid of you...we just pretend so you won't feel like such a loser!"

Spot scoffed. "Sure, Davey, you'se all just pretendin', ain'tcha guys?" He looked around the room for support, but no one would meet his gaze. All of a sudden everyone's shoes seemed REALLY interesting. "Guys?" Spot asked in a small voice.

"Um...uh...yeah...Davey's right, Spot," Itey mumbled. "We just did'n wanna hoit yer feelins..."

David glanced towards the corner, where Skittery was having a grand old laugh at the whole spectacle. "What are you laughing at?" Jeered David. "You're not innocent! Why don't you tell everyone your business motto, Skittery? You know, 'For a buck I might?' That's right, boys, it's not just a cutesy song line for Skittery! It's a way of life! As matter of fact, I can't think of anything that you WOULDN'T do for a buck. Just ask any of your customers at Medda's place, where you moonlight as Erotic Elaine!"

Specs (who I bet everyone had forgotten about by now) raised his tearful face from his arms and looked at Skittery with wide eyes.

"Elaine?"

Skittery just shrugged. Specs put his head back down on his arms and burst out into even louder sobs.

David was having so much fun he wasn't even sure who he should pick next. He danced around the room humming to himself. "Eenie, meenie, minie, moe..." His eyes jumped from newsie to newsie. He had dirt on all of them! He rubbed his hands together with the sheer glee of it all. So many newsies, so little time!
"Lemme see..." David murmured to himself. He couldn't think of the last time he had had so much fun! He started blurting out names at random. "Snipeshooter...you pick your nose and eat it! And is anyone wondering who always makes that stink in the bathroom and never claims responsibility? It's Swifty and his bowel problem! Dutchy is a Nazi...and Snoddy is a Communist! Pie Eater, Itey, and Ten Pin? They invented country music! Bumlets has lice...Crutchy IS fakin' it...Boots is just plain irritating...and Kid Blink is an alien! Have a look!"

With this, David pulled aside Blink's eyepatch. Instead of a gaping eye socket (which would have been gross enough to have to look at) a slimy green tendril shot from the hole. Blink froze. He looked nervously around him. Then...his head exploded! Newsies were showered with fragments of Blink-brain and an oozing green creature slithered from what was left of Blink's neck.

"Zog to mothership...Zog to mothership...Mission aborted. Repeat...mission aborted! Beam me up! Drat...foiled again!" The creature hissed at all the thoroughly stunned newsies. "We will return to take over your planet. You will be our slaves. Live in fear until that day..." The creature then disappeared in a poof of smoke.

David didn't even notice. He was just having waaaaay too much fun. He started looking around the room for anyone he had missed. It was then that he spied Jack, still in the corner, trying to appear as unobtrusive as possible while hiding behind Snoddy. David smiled evilly.

"Why, Jack, you didn't think I would forget you, did you? I saved the best for last! How about telling the boys why you were in such a tizzy to get to Santa Fe? Huh?"

Jack remained silent, and just glared at David from under knit eyebrows.
"Very well then," David sing-songed. "I'll just tell them myself. You see guys, Santa Fe is the location of a very special medical clinic...one that conducts one particular kind of surgery. Seems that old Jacky-boy here wasn't quite born with all his gear, and that he was all set to go to Santa Fe to get a...
"WEINER!" David waved the remains of his now cold, shrivelled hot dog in the air for all to see. He laughed so hard he ran out of breath, and then gasping for breath turned once again to Jack. "Whaddaya have to say for yourself now, Jack? Or should I say...Jacqueline??"

Even the rest of the newsies who had been taunted earlier thought that this was funny. They all broke up into racuous laughter. Some started rolling on the floor. Some stamped their feet and some slapped the table. Jack simply seethed in the corner.

David couldn't think of a better ending if he tried. He walked to the door of Tibby's and pulled it open. He strutted down the street away from Tibby's. As he rounded the corner, he could still hear gales of laughter coming from the restaurant. He could even hear Jack (oops...Jacqueline) still screaming, "It ain't funny, guys, really it ain't!!! Just imagine if you had no thingie!!"

David smiled contentedly to himself as he settled his hat once again upon his head. It was a beautiful day.

---

So, there is Davey Gets Even by Andrea. Read it again. It's good for the soul.

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