The newsies were on strike and you were one of them. After the lecture from Pulitzer, The Delancey brothers led you down to the cellar at 'The World Newspaper'. There was an old printing press and a sheet.

Morris: And now we've been discretion to handle you as we see fit. Yeah, so behave.

Oscar: But just in case, I've been polishing my favourite brass knuckles!

Morris then throws the sheet at you

Morris: And you can sleep right here! On this old printin' press!