Oliver Twist –
HOW IT SHOULD HAVE ENDED.
Oliver followed the Dodger along the muddy, narrow street with great haste. The air was impregnated with horrible smells which Oliver hoped he would never encounter again in his life. Master Dawkins grabbed his hand and pulled him when he slid clumsily on the ground, which had not been cobbled and was of great inconvenience.
Oliver had no time to stop as the Dodger halted, sending Oliver into his back and almost knocking the poor fellow over.
"Careful you! We don' want any falling over in this mud!" the Dodger said, "Now be sensible; Miss Nancy is coming."
He made effort to stand up tall for the said lady, and looked up once balanced to see exactly whom it was he had to greet. A proud woman she was, about two years the senior of Oliver and his new friend the Dodger, and more mature. Miss Nancy wore a corset and dress; with a revealing neck and small waist. Oliver was most alarmed to see that she wore thick bright red lip-stick; the mark of a woman commonly known as a 'whore of the streets'.
"Good even'ing Nancy!" the Dodger said, taking his top-hat off and hastily putting it back on his head, to prevent the unfortunate incident of a stolen piece of bread toppling into the mud beneath his feet, deeming it un-edible.
Miss Nancy nodded in recognition, and then turned to the boy.
"Who's this?" she asked
"A new friend ma'am. Master Oliver Twist he tells me." He replied
"Where's he from?"
"Greenland." the Dodger said and Nancy smiled in recognition of the comment; as if it were some in-side phrase used often to describe a boy in Oliver's poorly situation.
"You're a-heading back to Fagin's, are you not?" she said, more as an observation than anything else.
The Dodger nodded, "Is he in?"
"Yes, and Charley has something to tell you. I know not what it is about, but by the way he's rolling 'bout in hysterical fits it'd prob'ly be something amus'ing or such."
"Alwight Nancy; we'd best be off. Oliver, say good-bye to Miss Nancy like a polite genteel-man. That's it! Now we shan't keep Fagin waiting. Good-bye Nancy!"
After this humble good-bye – and a weak bow from young Oliver – both parties turned to leave. The street was usually soundless and lone-ly, but as a sudden rumble filled the air with its frightening low creak the Dodger and Nancy turned to their same position as the greeting had taken place moments before.
"My eyes, what was that?" the Dodger said loudly to Miss Nancy, in a harsh voice which gave his fear away greatly.
"I never heard such a noise before!" Nancy said frightfully, "I wonder what it is, my dear Dodger!"
It was then that poor, weak Oliver screamed despite his weakness and pain; and the three of them looked up to see a large green monster coming towards their party with menacing force. It was the likes of which they had not seen before; so therefore had no knowledge that the large object was a motored Army tanker, flanked by around one-and-twenty 'Jeeps'.
"Oh dear, what a shocking sight!" Nancy said, her legs failing her and dropping her to the ground. She trembled in place, too afraid to look.
The Dodger, in his own cowardice, stood gaping at the monster in his sudden inability to move.
"We must run!" Oliver said timidly, starting to slip-and-slide his way down the street in the opposite direction from the tanker.
The Dodger shook his head as if coming out of a dream; then twitched his head to move his hat back into its position loosely resting cocked on his head.
"Come on Nance, we have to make haste!" the Dodger cried, trying to pull Nancy into a stand.
Nancy wailed and stayed in her feeble position, crying "We'll nev'r make it!"
"Ha! Ha! Nance, Master Oliver has walked for sivin days straight to London, and you do not trust him enough that he would know such a thing as getting 'way from a beast?"
"I do not know him that well; do not question me!" she wailed, finally forcing herself to stand, "I could as have been following you, so named the Artful Dodger for your cunning, in your plan to stand an' stare!"
"You need not follow me, ma'am, for I do not have experiences with such situations."
"Will you two stop bick'ring 'mongst yourselves and run away frim it?" Oliver demanded from his safe position high up on a wooden staircase, which he was currently standing on.
"We do not have time!" Miss Nancy declared, and the lady was right. The tanker had advanced on them so much that running through the mud in escape would have been pointless.
"You may not have time to run, but if you look in that doorway to the left you'll find respectable Mr. Bumble the beadle, hiding away from this un-parochial weather. If you can seduce him in the slightest Miss Nancy, I think Master Dawkins could take his gun and throw it up to me."
"Could we not stay with the beadle, and be safe in there?" Nancy asked as the Dodger knocked on the beadle's door, with no response.
"Bu' that's no fun Nance!" the Dodger said, "Then young Oliver can't prove his worth by firing his weapon. Isn' that right Oliver?"
The boy nodded, and said, "Now hurry Miss Nancy! Before it is too late!"
Miss Nancy stamped her feet indignantly, crying "That is a stupid plan. I will not seduce Mr. Bumble when I do not have to, ye hear me?"
"Nancy, tha's not very lady-like." The Dodger said, "You do this work all the time! Do not forget that you are a street-whore."
"I shan't forget it, Bill won't let me forget it!" she cried, referring to her cold-hearted lover.
This argument was all unnecessary and the latter of it was un-heard by Oliver due to the rumbling of the tanker, which had crept steadily onwards towards his two new friends.
Suddenly, and with great distress to the witnesses there, Miss Nancy was pulled under the tanker with a sickening squish which brought Oliver and the Dodger to tears.
"What a dreadful sit'uation this is Oliver!" the Dodger cried, "I shall be next!"
But Oliver, sick with hunger, had found a single piece of cold meat on the wooden planks of his staircase, so bent down to pick it up gratefully.
With another sad, sickening noise more like a crunch! As oppose to Miss Nancy's squish, the Artful Dodger was no more. Only his emerald green hat and over-sized coat with the sleeves pulled up remained, though they were in a bad way after the dreadful event.
Oliver looked up after devouring the meat to find that the tanks and Jeeps had passed, and that his new friends were no more. He sobbed loudly as he made his way clumsily down the stairs towards the Dodger's hat and coat, and collapsed on the ground beside them. He mourned the loss of his friends for several minutes, before he was aware of some other company.
"Oi, you there!" a male voice said from behind him; he turned to see a boy the same age as he and the Dodger had been wearing a vest and small blue hat.
"What'chou doing with the Dodger's 'at?" he asked
"I – I – He - was-"
"Come on, out wif it!" the stranger said
"He – he was killed, sir." Oliver said
"What? The Artful Dodger killed? Ha! Ha! Ha!" the boy dropped to the floor and exploded in fits of hysterical laughter
"I'm sorry sir – but who might you be?" Oliver inquired after it was over
"I'm Master Charley Bates!" he declaired, recovering from his fit, "And you are?"
"My name is Oliver sir, Oliver Twist." He replied politely
"Well Oliver Twist, what really happened to my good friend the Dodger here?" he asked
"He was killed sir, by a large green monster sir!" Oliver said, his tears starting up again.
"Now listen 'ere you, stop telling me this nonsense!" Master Bates said, before he stopped after hearing a loud beeping noise which he did not recognise.
"Wha's that?" he asked, looking about himself in a frightened way.
Oliver shrugged his shoulders, and then cried out in fright as he saw the large green monster backing towards them with great speed, eventually backing over the top of Master Bates!
Oliver picked up the Dodger's hat and coat and put them on before running off. Luckily for the boy the tanker changed course so that it was moving forwards, away from Oliver.
Oliver let out a cry of relief – a shrill cry of "Thank goodness I am alive!" – And knocked on Mr. Bumble's door for some comfort. The door flew open in an instant, and in a flash Mr. Bumble had Oliver staring at the barrel of his gun.
"Aha! The Artful Dodger eh? Playing a game of knock-and-run are we m'boy? I heard you before you prig, I jus' didn't open! Ha! Ha! Ha! And now I 'ave my gun!"
The beadle, deaf to the pleas of Oliver, pulled the trigger and killed poor Oliver with one blow to the head.
It was only moments later, after a proper inspection, that he realised that he'd shot poor Oliver Twist.
He closed his door and put down his gun, dropping to his knees beside Oliver. He started to mourn, but was interrupted by a loud 'whoosh!'. The beadle got up and looked up, to see a large flying beast with terrible revolving blades – known simply as a 'helicopter' to those who have seen it - which was attached by a length of rope to a large black-and-white creature of enormous size. But this creature, however, was identifiable to the poor beadle.
"My goodness, it's an Orca!" he said, opening his mouth wide in shock.
The whale was quite hungry from his journey, and was rather vexed at having no sustenance for his travels. So, before Mr. Bumble could ejaculate a cry of despair, the whale crunched the beadle in half and continued on his way, leaving a trail of the most disgusting and ugly trail of blood.
So all that was left of this tragic event was poor orphaned Oliver, wearing the Dodger's over-sized coat full of wipes and pocket-watches; his green hat and a large amount of sickly red blood.