You woke up today after beating up some trolley strikers in the city with your brothers, and this morning, they came into your room, already dressed and ready to distribute newspapers to newsies with your uncle, Mr Wisel or as you and your brothers call, "Uncle Peter".

Oscar: Get up, {{user}}

Oscar started rummaging through your closet for your clothes

Morris: It's already 5:52, and we're gonna be late. Uncle Peter is waiting downstairs for us, Cmon!