| I Hate That Kid! A History Of T.A.R.K & Quipster |
| "I HATE THAT KID!" Katie yelled, shaking her fist at the TV screen. "GO AWAY!!!" The rest of the group burst out laughing, I among them. Of course, you don’t know who I am, yet. Details, details. I am the great and powerful Quipster…or Molly. But, being that this is my Newsies story I’m thinking it is only appropriate for me to use my Newsie nickname. "Hey, relax there, Katie," Marissa told her, laughing. "He’s so annoying though!" Katie insisted, angry that her preferred movie included an individual that she abhorred. "It’s just a movie," I reminded her, truly believing that my reassurances were valid, never knowing what could be coming. That was the beginning of it all. Then, for about three months there was nothing. I joined the Newsie Mailing List, made friends, and thoroughly enjoyed my obsession over Newsies. Newsie life was stressful at times, though. Definitely not all peaches and cream. Trying ot write stories before your fellow NMLers could threaten you with things that only haunt your nightmares. Sometimes I didn’t think I’d make it with squeaky Crutchy running after me, cannibalistic Sarah trying to feast upon me, and half naked Davie doing the bunny hop around my room. It was hell, pure and simple. One day I decided to take my life into my own hands, though. Sick of the feared newsie characters torture, I set out to fight fire with fire. I sat up many a sleepless nights pondering how to carry out my revenge. Murderess Les?…not good enough. Alien nuns?…still not good enough! I carefully reviewed all the characters in my head, mentally making a list. Pulitzer the pedaphilic rapist?…Definitely nightmare worthy but STILL not revenge worthy. I needed something BIG. Finally, one day, it came to me in a flash (as all good ideas do). I hate that kid…went through my mind. I decided on none other than Mr. Get da Lead Outta Yer Pants, himself. He was the one that could help me. He and he alone. I wondered if anyone would actually believe me that he was in my house. I knew the NMLers were rumored to be gullible and although I had no certifiable proof that the loathed child was at my house I was confident that my threat would be accepted as truthful regardless of the lack of evidence. Only one problem remained, waiting until the perfect time. I wanted to make sure the revelation was in idea circumstances, knowing that if I played my cards right I could be the ‘most feared NMLer on the list, and probably everywhere else.’ I would bide my time until I was certain the timing was correct. Being the impatient individual that I am, I waited about half an hour before my first threat. The first victim was a list renowned authoress, Stress. She, unfortunately, had been the first to pop into my mind after suffering through many of her carried-out threats. I felt no remorse when I clicked the send button for a letter filled to the brim with threats to send the lead boy after her if she did not comply with my wishes to write more story. I was ecstatic when I received a return quickly sending her assurances that she would pick up the pace on her story writing. I had the power now. Liking the taste of success I craved more power over people. I set my sights on power over Tunes. The unlucky girl had been composing a piece of fictional fun that included the best character ever, myself. When Tunes read about my harmful intentions she immediately surrendered to me, promising more story would be released as soon as her fingers could type it. I, of course, sent my assurances to the fear-gripped fans that they had persuaded me with their promises and I would contain the ‘annoying kid’ for the time being. When they sent letters of gratitude to me I launched into full-blown power-craziness. I knew I could have the power over anyone and everyone that I wanted and soon would. I then did what anyone in my position would do, threatened everyone in sight. I threatened Jibajabba, Squibble, Quirky, Tinker, and anyone else I talked to. Hell, I even threatened my sisters, who just stared at me oddly knowing full well there wasn’t an obnoxious newsie living in my drawer. I was the Queen of the Mailing List, or so I thought. Everyone cowered in fear when Imed or I E-mailed them, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t decide to unleash the terror that inhabited my sock drawer. It was a couple weeks before my threats started to lose their power. I noticed people praised me less, half-naked Davie threats began to resurface and the fan fiction dwindled. Now what was I going to do? I couldn’t just let me new-found power go….at least not without a damn good fight. I became obsessed with the need to regain my power. I spent every waking moment fixating on it and every night dreaming of it. If something hadn’t of changed drastically Lord knows what would have happened. Luckily, for me at least, things never evolved to that level of desperation. A fateful day came, unnoticeable different in the beginning. I went to school without doing any of my homework, contemplated threatening my teachers with the revolting newsie, then returned home to spend some alone time in my room and review the days events in deep meditation. Or, to speak more plainly, I was going to take a nap since I have never accustomed myself to waking up at 6:30. I went to lie down in my bed but there was a red-headed obstacle in my way. "Uh…" I started, but for the first time in my life couldn’t come up with anything to say. "I’se assumin’ dat yer Quipstah?" the obstacle asked. I nodded, still unable to produce any type of coherent response. "Da names Bob, but most call me Froggy," he introduced himself, sticking out a hand. I shook the extended appendage and then, finding my tongue, asked, "Why are you in my room?" "Well, Quippy, I realized dat ya need me help," Froggy answered. "So…you just showed up to help me threaten people?" I asked, disbelievingly. "Pretty much. I figuaged dat I’d give ya da powah you’se been missin’ so much," he offered. "What’s in it for you?" I questioned cautiously. Froggy looked a little uncomfortable. "Da othah newsie gawds in da newsieverse ain’t too happy wid me so I need a place ta crash an’ was thikin’ a nice warm sock drawer didn’t sound so bad," Froggy admitted. I thought the suggested arrangement over momentarily. "So, I let you sleep in my socks and you will get any revenge I want?" I inquired, liking this plan. "Yep. I don’t want no rules or anythin’ doh. I get ta do whatevah I want," he informed me. "I don’t care what you do for revenge…except killing people…that’s bad," I told him, not wanting a murder to be traceable to me. "Fine, no moider," Froggy agreed. "No more rules, doh." "If you’re going to be living in my room then there have to me some rules," I protested "Like what?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Nothing that bid," I assured him quickly, scared he might just leave. "You have to leave Itey alone. He lives in the closet, though, so I doubt you’ll see him much anyway. Also, my friends and family can’t ever see you in here unless I say so. And after I go to bed you have to say in your drawer and keep down the noise." Froggy appeared to think it over for a few minutes before nodding. "Ya jest got yaself a uhh…revenge gettah…" "Yipee!" I exclaimed. "Can we get started now? Can we? Huh? Huh?" "Has anyone evah told you yer kinda annoyin?" Froggy asked me. I looked at him in shock. I had never entertained the nothing that I would be the one to annoy him. "I uhh…" I started, my face falling. "Let’s just get started," Froggy said, wary of a dramatic scene that all girls are rumored to have. I shrugged off his earlier comment, overjoyed that he was ready to help me. I spent the next hour pointing out girls I needed revenge on and relating their past offenses. Froggy sat and patiently took mental notes on all my stories. I, ecstatic that someone was finally interested in my tales, told him everything I knew about all the girls. Its odd that I didn’t catch it before, but now, looking back, I remember him asking a lot of questions about the girls fears and such. I, being the helpful hostess that I am, tried to help him understand what would scare the basic NMLer the most. I never knew that someone would be cruel enough to use my own information against me, though. Part 2 Coming Soon Back to Newsie Page Back to T.A.R.K.'s Drawer |