Newsies Road Trip AU (nope, no creative title)

Armadillo Puns And Emergency Room Visits

Race glanced around with amazement and, he had to admit, some nervousness. He had never been alone in a public place like this-well, not alone, he reminded himself. The other guys were still behind him, seemingly feeling the same kind of awe as him. The first one to break the silence, predictably, was Crutchie.

"Look at this guy!" He said from near a pen filled with strange rocks, his voice still hushed.

Race looked again. "It's rocks. What am I looking at?"

"Is not! It's armadillos, see?" he motioned to the sign on the pen. It was faded, and the only light source within several thousand feet was a dim, flickering lamp post, but Race, to his credit, actually looked at the sign long enough to see that it was, in fact, armadillos. One of them uncurled itself and started to lope toward him.

"That's cute," he muttered, relaxing a little. He absently picked it up and lifted it about halfway to his face. The next thing anyone knew, Race was doubled over in pain and the armadillo was nowhere to be found.

Jack reacted quickly. "What happened?"

Race was now staring at his hand. "That nasty little son of a-" he glanced at Davey, who had placed his hands over Les's ears and was giving him the death stare. "-gun bit me!" he finished, returning Davey's glare. "By the way, I think I have the right to at least one swear word here, Dave. It's not like he's never heard it before."

Spot grinned. "I don't think you shoulda picked it up like that. In fact, I'd call this-" he grinned wider. "Karmadillo."

"Ya know I love you, but shut up."

Spot stepped back. "Woah there. Ya don't have to harmadillo me."

"Seriously. Stop it with the armadillo puns."

Spot half-smirked. "No."

Romeo slowly worked his way toward the front of the group. "Not to freak anyone out or anythin', but I think I heard somewhere that armadillo bites are poison, so maybe we should worry about that first."

Race sighed. "Why does it always come back to poison?"

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The Hill Memorial Hospital Emergency Room Waiting Room

11:01 PM

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Race was having what some might call a bad day. First he had banged his knee pretty hard on a gate, then he got bitten by an armadillo, and now he was sitting around in what had to be the most boring waiting room in the history of waiting rooms. There was no way that this night could get any worse.

"Y'know, it might've been platypuses," Romeo said to nobody in particular.

"What might've been platypuses?" Race asked, then thought for a moment. "And wouldn't it be platypi?"

"Platypuses might be the ones with poison bites. And ya don't get to correct me, Mister I-Can't-Pronounce-Oyster."

"That was once, okay? I was excited. Besides, you gotta admit erster sounds better." He sucked a few drops of blood off his finger. "How long are we gonna be here? This place is really boring and it smells bad."

"It just smells like a waiting room," Crutchie muttered, half-asleep on Jack's shoulder. "They all smell the same."

Race decided not to argue this point, since Crutchie had probably been in more waiting rooms than him, but he continued to stew until-finally-his name was called.

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Spot nervously watched as a confused nurse ("I'm sorry, but it looks like this says your name is...Racetrack?" "That's 'cause it is." "Really? Your parents must have been odd birds.") brought Race into a room he couldn't see. He tried to occupy himself by thinking of more armadillo puns. He had just figured out that if the thing had spent any more time with Race it would have been a cigarmadillo when Race himself came back into the room, staring disdainfully at a thick bandage around his middle finger.

"They said don't pick at it," he muttered to no one in particular. "I wouldn't've thought about pickin' at it if they hadn't said don't, but now I kinda want to. Just ta see what happens, y'know?"

Spot looked up at him. "They said don't pick at it, don't pick at it. You'll just hafta trust me on this one. If they've gotta tell you specifically not to do somethin', ya prob'ly shouldn't do it."

Race continued to stare at his hand. "Yeah. I guess my finger might fall off or somethin', and then how would I hold stuff an' flip people off and things?" He gave the bandage one more wistful look, then stuffed his hand in his pocket. "Can we go now?"