|Reviews for Worst Days and Prankster Ways|
| Jaco Be Nimble 12/28/11 . chapter 3
My coherency is abandoned somewhere far behind and tangled within the letters up, somewhere, I think, back in chapter one. If not, definitely somewhere in Sidney's metaphysical ambiguity. I can't quite spazz at you in gratitude as I want to, so you should get on MSN or or or I don't know, I might take this to the ever respectable domain of Facebook and spazz in a message or something.
In short, I must part while less-violent-insanity guides my fingers and typing yet remains in the repertoire of skills I may claim. And so, this:
"Her stomach full, and her outermost extremities warmed and refreshed, Slinks handed over her sincere thanks to the large boy. It was a bit awkward, as she had no great experience in that area, but she put forth a commendable effort."
is nothing short of brilliant and dead on ajkhsdfhxvcnjkuigf I love so you dearly *kjsdfjkcxzuhrey*
| Eavis 8/29/10 . chapter 1
Oh, I /know/ you haven't updated in nearly forever, but please, please, /won't/ you? Please. Plwease? There! You've reduced me to shameless pleading! How low...
| Eruanna Undomiel 10/20/09 . chapter 2
Very good! I can't wait for more of this! Spot needs someone to keep his ego in check!
| Eavis 10/11/09 . chapter 2
This is absolutely hilarious! Please write more soon. I haven't read a Newsie fic as good as this one...possibly ever. Many thanks!
| Jaco Be Nimble 4/22/08 . chapter 2
*flops around like a limp, happy fish*
*a limp, /very/ happy fish*
I think the little email telling me this was out had been sitting in my box for, like, a week, because I hadn't checked my mail (oh, hey, wait, you updated yesterday! *falls off chair squealing*), but I saw it yesterday, and then grinned like the Great Messr. Cheshire, and then clicked on the link, and then proceeded to become so jittery with overwhelming happiness that my teeth rattled.
| MissRoman 4/21/08 . chapter 2
That was simply amazing!
I laughed so many times. Slinks is a hilarious character. Kudos to your friend for creating such a person.
I love the way you write too! It's so beautifully descriptive and fun to read. I especially loved the part about destroying the cap with llamas. :D
| vonilyn 10/7/07 . chapter 1
4) it should also be noted that i'm not of the newsies fandom. i ..
...i *HEART-symbol!* the movie and i'm the one who introduced ali to it in the first place, but the movie is definitely not the fandom. so as a general piece of fiction, i thought this was wonderful!
and i lied. my only relevant disgruntlement with your work is it's unfinished status. pls finish? kthxbye!
| vonilyn 10/7/07 . chapter 1
dearest darlingest froggie and slinksickle,
1) i never review. once in a blue moon do i review. ergo, you should feel honored! and no, i'm not reviewing because i was ordered to... (even tho i was... hence the mention of the slinks.)
2) you write beautifully. as someone who has been reading and critiquing great works of literature for the past fifteen years, i am totally qualified to comment on this. this was wonderful writing.
3) ordinarily, in the rare reviews i do make, i try to be helpful and point out some random thing to make myself and my opinion useful, some error or typo of a more specific nature. however, in this, i found nothing critical demanding technical review. alas. damn the eastern states' education system anyway.
4) it should also be noted that i'm not of the newsies fandom. i
| Jaco Be Nimble 10/7/07 . chapter 1
/Wet and sodden had never been a favorite fashion of the Slinker. She usually took to the slightest form of precipitation as would a cat or a dead duck: not well at all. To be sure, the ability to coexist with any form of water –other than a nice warm bath- resided somewhere in the innards of Slinks but she had neither the knowledge of its whereabouts nor the patience to find it./
Hmm. Well, she does like being in the rain, actually... Just not when she's got stuff to keep dry. Like her life blood, which is the marriage of ink and paper.
But she -hates- being sweaty. XD So you're brilliance defined.
/So it was that she opted for a hike through the heavy droplets back to her home, the Lodging House, and utilized her now useless papers as a make-shift umbrella. Wet print slid from the soggy paper in illegible clumps along her arms and down the open collar of her shirt, marking her skin in misshapen letters and scattered punctuation./
Dear sweet God, I love you. *TACKLE*
/Slinks was not dumb. She’d had enough of an education to know her letters and numbers. She could write a little, spell her name and count to fifty with her eyes closed (though it’s never quite been understood why such a feat was admirable). Slinks also knew important things./
You're like... Mark Twain! Only... Using different people! Ahh! *bone-squishing hug*
/She knew that New York stretched as far as you could see from the steeple in St. Patrick’s and what you might see beyond that was the Atlantic Ocean or Canada or England: the rest of the World. It was big and all the pictures she’d seen told her it was pretty but after much thought and much mulling Slinks had decided that Brooklyn was surely better than any of that./
"Damn straight," muttered Slinks from her sprawled position in the chair.
/Slinks unfortunately knew that the boys who worked the presses were large and greasy and liked to whisper rude things in girl’s ears and tug at their skirts. Fortunately they never messed with Slinks. At least a few knew personally her rather able right hook and the rest just took the black eyes as enough warning./
You've made me -coo!- And Slinks is grinning and snickering like a little devil, ooh, yes, she is.
/But most importantly, Slinks knew that you never, ever, unless specifically instructed (and sometimes not even then), touched and/or stole anything that belonged to Spot Conlon./
"Pff!" scoffed she. Sadly, the descriptions that fell from her lips thereafter were... less than ideal printing material.
/(Incidentally, Slinks had kindly alerted Spot once that his head seemed a fraction larger than the day before and he should beware, lest it float away when he wasn’t expecting –though one never really does expect those kinds of things. Spot was not amused nor was he particularly appreciative at this warning because at that time his cane was nowhere to be found and he was quite preoccupied with its loss.)/
And the lady was so very struck with laughter that any intelligent hand could only put it down as 'a bloody ear-splitting roar, now shut the hell up.'
/Every other day or week or month, just when he’d least expect it, he’d turn to find his cap gone… or his cane… or suspenders. On one occasion he’d discovered all his clothes gone and spent an entire hour searching -in his worn long johns no less- before finding them shamelessly displayed in the front window at the bookstore up the street./
"Oi, you," Slinks quipped, turning to the blond holding the pen and fetching her a swift punch in the arm. "Why dun' you ever think o' things li' that?"
/On this rainy afternoon that was very soon to be the worst day of Slinks life, her newest captive was none other than Spot’s cap. This possession, possibly most prized of the boy, had come into his life at the bottom of a box of donations given to the Refuge during his first of many stints for general misbehaving and lawlessness. It had since served with him through two borough wars; survived the dock fire of 1897; joined him on the carriage ride across the Brooklyn Bridge with Governor Roosevelt; and had been snatched, to date, a total of fourteen times by the famous Slinker./
And from far away - for that is the only safe distance at this time, friends - we can hear the cry of "E!" as if we were yet in the same room.
/However, two factors should be duly noted. First is that a cap is primarily a head covering. Second is that on this, the worst day of Slinks' life, it was raining quite furiously./
However, it would take the strained hearing of someone, perhaps, three feet and two inches away to hear the quiet and almost fearful "Oh, shit," breathed simultaneously by the two.
/“SLINKS!” His voice boomed. It echoed. It shook the very foundations and froze every heart.
Slinks sat bolt upright and slammed her nose to the wooden slats of the bunk above her. She saw the stars and felt a vessel of blood break at the bridge of her nose. Through eyes that stung she peered out at her soaked leader while her hand quickly shoved his cap into the back pocket of her damp britches.
She attempted an innocent grin but it was lost as she pawed at her nose and the blood that ran freely./
It is to be noted, that while one of the girls was laughing hysterically and gulping for air, the other was turning a delicate whitish-green, punching at the other rather feebly.
It still hurt.
/Spot took three soggy steps forward, stopped, and raised a finger at the girl./
One of the girls, clutching at the hair that fell about her ears, squeaked very quietly a word which is ill approved in most written forms...
/“I want it. Now.” Each word hung in the air, drug out into a deep, single-tone sentence of terror./
/So, because it seemed the right thing to do at the moment, or perhaps the only, or just the best, Slinks did what anyone would surely do in such a situation: she ran./
As one of the girls continued her raucous laughter, the other sighed with what can only be called relief.
/For her reputation,/
The girl pulled her hat down over her face and put said face into her hands. The words she spoke, when she did, were muffled by the thin (though damned servicable, and tha's -final.-) fabric: "Please, dear Mary, please..."
/her precious pride and hide,/
"I'd like, hones'ly, to keep both..."
/and in the name of every delicious prank she had ever pulled, Slinks just ran./
"So don't let my lungs give out..."
/She burst across the floor... past damp newsboys (shocked).../
A squeak broke up the monologue.
/past Spot Conlon (frowning).../
A giggle fetched forth.
/down the stairs (two at a time).../
Both girls were now partaking in the wonder that is laughter.(Once again.)
/through the door and out into the rain. A fist as tight as iron gripped the tattered cap. She ran and didn’t stop. She ran until her face was numb from the rain and the cold and her chest ached and burned. She ran till she felt as if she could run no more and then she ran still./
Both girls looked at each other, eyebrows raised. Both could - and would - only admit to free-standing pride.
OH MY STARS AND GAURDERS! FROGGIE! E! *TACKLE* *SQUISHES*
...*squishes some more*...
I absolutely love you. To itty teensy bits. And I CANNOT WAIT for the next installment.
Indeed, neither of us can. *giggles and bounces with excitement*
And as you've got it all under neat and tidy control, I shall let you take this where you will. I'm anxious. *giggle*
I love you, my Frogger! *squishes yet again*
So hurry up and get back from feeding so you can read this, wot.
| Girlwithabrokenheart 10/6/07 . chapter 1
WOW! That's all i really have to say. I really liked your story. I hope you update soon.
| letsimagine42 10/6/07 . chapter 1
Great story! Please continue - eagerly awaiting wether or not Spot will follow & forgive! Continue, please!
| Antoinette 10/4/07 . chapter 1
This has some great imagery, some funny moments, and such a beautiful flow! Loved it!