𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 • 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐘

3

𝑱𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑳𝑶𝑵

The Newsies arrive at the distribution windows of the World. Wiesel, an ill-tempered, rumpled man, appears with the Delanceys to collect the money and distribute the papers to the Newsies.

"Papes for the Newsies! Line up!" Jack is first to the window as always. The rest of the Newsies fall into line behind him.

"Good morning, Weasel. Did you miss me?" Jack teases, a grin on his face.

"That's Wiesel," he snaps, correcting Jack.

"Ain't that what I said?" Jack slaps down his money. "I'll take the usual."

"A hundred papes for the wise guy," Oscar grumbles, handing over the papers. Race steps up to the window.

"How's it going, Weasel?" Race drags out the words.

"At least call me 'mister,'" Wiesel demands.

"I'll call you sweetheart if you'd spot me fifty papes," Race winks, making the other Newsies laugh.

"Drop the cash and move it along," Wiesel warns.

"Whatever happened to romance?" Race says, slapping down his coin.

"Fifty for the Race. Next!" Wiesel barks.

Jess walks up, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Morning, Buffer," she sings cheerfully.

Wiesel quirks an eyebrow. "Buffer?"

Jess snaps her fingers. "Oh, it's my new favorite word. It's a noun, and you use it when addressing someone who's slightly on the foolish side, like you."

Wiesel scowls but tries to maintain his composure. "You're a real piece of work, aren't you?"

"Thanks, I try," Jess says with a smirk as she drops her coins.

"Twenty papes for the Buffer. Next!"

Crutchie steps up with a cheerful "Good morning, Mr. Wiesel."

"Fifty papes for Crutchie," Wiesel grumbles, sliding the papers over.

Next in line is Davey, a seventeen-year-old boy looking decidedly out of place, accompanied by his younger brother, Les.

"Have a look at this: a new kid!" Jack and Jess turn their heads to see Davey and Les approach.

"I'm new too!" Les chimes in, his excitement palpable.

"Ya don't say," Knuckles mutters, eyeing the duo.

"Don't worry, kid. It rubs right off," Race adds with a grin.

"I'll take twenty newspapers, please," Davey says firmly, holding onto his bag tightly.

"Twenty for the new kid. Let's see the dime," Wiesel demands, extending his hand.

Davey looks him up and down, then responds, "I'll pay you when I sell them."

The other Newsies exchange glances, and Wiesel scoffs. "Funny, kid. C'mon, cash up front."

Davey raises an eyebrow. "But whatever I don't sell, you buy back, right?"

Wiesel and the Delanceys laugh. "Certainly. And every time you lose a tooth, I put a penny under your pillow. This kid's a riot. C'mon, cough up the cash or blow."

Reluctantly, Davey hands over a dime and takes his papers. He inspects them briefly before moving aside.

"Come on, move along," Wiesel says, shooing Davey out of the way. "Albert, lemme see your money."