Let me get a few things out of the way before this fic starts. I might have been on mass amounts of crack when I wrote this and didn't realize it. And I might have had my brain taken over by miniature aliens and, therefore, I'm not responsible for this fic. But I do know two things for sure. One, this was definitely caused by sheer boredom during a First Aid video in P.E. And two, this was definitely written for my darling Stacy's eighteenth birthday. Stacy, Lutelles, Thumbsucker Snitch, Yolanda, and all your other thousands of nickname, this is for you, however freaky and cracked-out it may be. You know I adore you. -beams-

Disclaimer: Newsies no es mio-sonrio-

Warnings: Sheer insanity, wild OOC-ness, slight language, some slash

Rapunzel and the Door-less Baseball Fortress

Once upon a time, in the far-off, mystical land of Detroit, lived a man with his beautiful wife.

"I hate everything," the dark-haired boy said through gritted teeth.

The boy next to him gave his friend a jab in the ribs and promptly adjusted the wild, tangled, bright yellow wig that adorned his head. "Shut up, David, this is gonna be fun."

"Mush, anything that involves cross-dressing is fun to you."

"Shut up!"

Are you two finished?

"Yes, Omniscient Narrator."

Thank you. So. The man and his wife desperately desired a child.

"Oh, how desperately I desire a child!" Mush screeched, waving his arms wildly.

David blinked. "Um... so do I. I guess."

The man had once been a great player of baseball, and he wanted a son to carry on in his footsteps.

"... I'm sorry, what fairy tale is this again?"

The one where you SHUT UP.

"... okay, then."

So, the woman gives birth to a healthy, baby boy.


"Thank you, Mush."

"Quite welcome."

No one ever remembered the little boy's real name. Everyone simply called him Snitch, because he was a greedy little brat and stole lollipops from all the other children in the area. Well, he didn't, really, because there were no other children. But if there were other kids, he would have stolen their lollipops.

"Would not!" interjected the tall boy.

You're supposed to be a baby, and babies can't talk. So shut up, Snitch.

He pouted. "Goo, goo."

Good boy. Much to the chagrin of his parents-

"Aha, chagrin. Fun word."

... much to the chagrin of his parents, Snitch didn't want to play baseball.

"Mommy, Daddy, I don't want to play baseball," Snitch stated.

"Uh, yeah, the invisible narrator lady just said that."

"Shut up, David."

Yeah, shut up, David.

"... right. Moving on. I don't want to play baseball. I want to become a pop star!"

Snitch's mother was so disappointed and shocked at this revelation that she fell down dead of an unexplainable heart attack.

Mush blinked. "So I die? Just like that, I'm dead?"


"And I'm not in the story any more?"


"Not fair!"

"Tough luck."

"So not fair!"

"Life's a bitch, and then you die."

In your case, life's a bitch, and now you die. As in, right now.

"I hate you all!"

"Mush, shut up and die so we can get on with the story."

Mush rolled his eyes and folded his arms, pouting. "Oh, ah, pain in my chest. Ouchies. I am slain." He trudged off, grumbling under his breath.

Thank you, sweetie.

"I hate you."

I know. Anyway. After her death, Snitch's father couldn't stand to look his son in the eye any more, as he reminded him of his dead wife. So, he dumped his kid off on the witch next door.

Snitch raised an eyebrow as David did a victory dance in the general direction of the door and praised his freedom. "We live next door to a witch?"

Yes. Well, she's not really a witch. She's just this crazy lady who's dyed her hair so many times that her brain cells have turned to cottage cheese. She just thinks she's a witch. She also thinks she's Swedish.

"Do they have witches in Sweden?"

Hell if I know. So! Snitch's father left his son at the home of the witch, Medda, in hopes that she would teach him how to be a successful baseball player.

"Why would she know how to play baseball?"

Okay, shut up and let me tell the story.


Medda locked Snitch in a tall tower that had no doors, no stairs, and only a single small window at the very top. This tower was built during one of her post-hair-dying bouts of insanity in which she thought she was Leonardo da Vinci rebuilding the Tower of Babel.

"This woman is on serious drugs."

Tell me about it. So, the Witch Medda locked Snitch at the very top of the tower in a large room filled with baseball equipment. For many years, she tried to teach him the ways of the baseball stars, though she failed miserably, mostly because she'd never played baseball in her life.

"I did, too! I was Serena Williams in a past life!"

First of all, Serena Williams is still alive. Second, she plays TENNIS.


Snitch whimpered and backed away from the crazy lady.

So, the Witch, despite her obvious insanity, tried to teach Snitch to play baseball.

"Okay, Mary-"

"My name is Snitch."

"Don't try to confuse me. Now, Mary, the first thing we have to do is get you a nickname."

"Um... 'Snitch' is a nickname."

Medda ignored him. "All the great baseball players have nicknames, like Crazy Legs or The Iron Warrior."

"The Iron Warrior?"

"Don't question me, Mary. So. Your nickname will be Rapunzel."

"... why?"


The Witch was gone for long periods of time. Maybe she was dying her hair or doing drugs or something. Snitch didn't know. But instead of practicing his batting stance, Snitch spent his free hours singing and staring out of the window, clinging to his dream of being a pop star.


... ow. My ears are bleeding.

"You're just jealous. Besides, you don't have ears. You don't even have a body."

I'd rather be a disembodied voice than the prisoner of a delusional, possibly sociopathic Botox addict.

"... I hate you."

I get that a lot.

"I bet you do."

Moving on. Since the Witch was insane-

"I think we've established her insanity."

Look, I'm telling this story. I control what happens. So, either you shut your trap and let me tell it, or I rewrite this whole thing and give you syphilis.

Are we clear?


Good. So. Since the Witch, in her insanity, had neglected to build stairs or doors in the tower, there was only one way to get in. She would stand at the foot of the tower and call...

"Hey, Rapunzel! Gimme the freakin' bat!"

The boy would hang out of the window and lower a bat to the Witch Medda. Then, she would grab ahold of the bat, and Snitch would hoist her fat ass up into the tower.

"Holy shit, lose some weight!"

Snitch eventually developed a hernia, which I wrote out because it had nothing to do with the story.

"I had a hernia? If I had a hernia, I'd have to go to the hospital... I'd have to leave this story! Gimme back my hernia!"

Shut up and sing.

"I want my hernia!"

Do you want to get laid any time soon?

"... are you propositioning me?"

... okay, fine, no sex for you.

"Okay, okay, I want the sex!"

Then SING.


One day, a crazy-mad famous talent scout named Skittery happened to be lost in the woods.

"Damnation. I'm lost."

Suddenly, he heard the sweetest most mellifluous voice that he'd ever encountered.


Skittery blinked and raised his stupidly expensive mirrored sunglasses.

"That is the most beautiful voice I have ever... okay, I can't do this. He sounds like a diseased cat caught in a blender."

"Screw you, Skitts!"

"Later, babe."


We're not at this part of the story yet, you little... HEY. Tongue out of his mouth. NOW.

"You are no fun."

Let's just get on with this story so we can get to the parts that you two enjoy. Like the sex.

"Well, when you put it that way... ahem. Oh, what a beautiful voice. I must hire him!"

Just then, the Witch Medda returned from Save-a-Center.

"I bought rice cakes! Hey, Rapunzel! Gimme the freakin' bat!"

"God, I hate this..."

Skittery watched as the boy in the window dragged the crazy woman with the bad hair inside the tower.

"Aha! So, that's how I can get in! Mwahahaha!"

Save the evil cackle for the Little Red Riding Hood Chapter.

"Oh, God, I'm scared."

You should be. Anyway. Skittery watched intently until the Witch left for her weekly canasta game. Then, he crept up to the tower.

"Hey, Rapunzel! Gimme the freakin' bat!"

"Damn, Medda, I told you to lay off the steroids. You sound like a man."

"I'm not her, you moron! My name's Skittery. You must be Rapunzel."

"Actually, my name's Snitch. She calls me Rapunzel because she wants me to be a baseball player, and, apparently, all baseball players have nicknames."

"... but why Rapunzel?"

"I don't know. Whenever I ask, she yells 'LUNCHTIME' and then throws a knife at the wall."

"Wow. She's nuts."

"You're telling me."

"So, um... I heard you singing."


"I'm actually a talent scout. I want to sign you."

"... seriously! It just so happens that I've always wanted to be a singer!"

"And it just so happens that I got lost near your tower!"

"And I just happened to be singing right at that very second!"

"And I just happened to hear you!"

They glanced upwards.

... what? This is a FAIRY TALE. Fairy tales are SUPPOSED to be unexplainably coincidental.

"... works for me. Just get me out of this damn tower."


"I really don't know. I mean, Medda took the bat."


"Her canasta games can be brutal. She likes to have it, just in case she has to bash someone's skull in."

"Ah. Lovely."

"So. Any ideas?"

"... actually, yeah. I'll be back in a bit."

Skittery rode off upon his great, white stallion-

"Excuse me?"

... upon his big, black motorcycle.

"Thank you."

Whatever he rode off on, he rode off into the sunset. A few hours later, he returned with the Detroit police, who promptly tracked down Medda and arrested her for cruelty to a minor.

"Despite the fact that I'm eighteen."

"Don't tell her that. This is funny."

"Ow! She totally just socked that cop in the jaw."

"She's got a mean right hook."

"Hell, yeah."

The Detroit police bashed the walls of the tower in and rescued Snitch. And he and Skittery instantly fell in love.

"Can we make out now?"



Snitch, with Skittery's help, became a famous pop star. He toured across the country, singing and dodging scores of fanatical prepubescent teenyboppers. Medda caught his performance on TRL from her jail cell.

"I know him! I used to lock him in a tower and teach him baseball!"

The Witch Medda was promptly shoved in a straight jacket and sent to an insane asylum.

"This sucks!"

Snitch stayed on top of the music industry until he experienced a slight dip in popularity caused when he punched out an overly-amorous Paris Hilton. But, then, society realized that the bitch was better left unconscious, anyway, and continued blaring Snitch's music. He won several Grammy awards, many of his songs hit the number one spot on the charts, and all of his albums were deemed to be insanely popular.

But the most popular of all remained his debut album: Rapunzel.

The End

"And then we make out some more!"

"All right!"

Shut UP! Damn horny teenagers...

The End... for real this time, I promise

... I think I'm actually scared of this. The sheer stupidity of this fic frightens me. And at the same time, I love it. And I guess I better get used to it, because this is a SERIES! YAY! Did I mention the series-ness? I don't think I did. Anyway. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LUTELLES!