A/N: This wee fic has several chapters but no concrete plot (as of yet), thus the generic title. It was originally written in the summer of 2008, when I was attending Michigan Technological University's Summer Youth Program. It was intended to introduce some of the storyline and characters of 'Oliver Twist' to my writing group; everything's based on the book in the end but a couple of scenes were taken from it and modified for the story's purposes. I didn't include Oliver though…don't ask. –head desk-
If you have further plot ideas or suggestions for where this should go, please PM me! I have some thoughts of my own, but I'm curious to hear what my readers think. =) I'd love to continue, but need good ideas and inspiration to do so!
Here's hoping you enjoy it!
-ScroogeMcDuck
Fine Fellows Lead Fine Lives
An Oliver Twist Fanfiction
Prologue
Deep in the bowels of London's underworld, where thieves and murderers roamed free, one domain in particular appeared unique.
It was a dimly lit and shabby dwelling, but this was made up for by the colourful array of pocket handkerchiefs strung about the walls.
Here and there young pickpockets slept; grimy faced and curled in moth-eaten blankets.
In their midst stood a worn old table, upon which sat a battered and dusty box. A haggard old gentleman, in a tattered coat and mud-encrusted shoes, with a shock of fiery, matted hair, examined the contents of the small box with glee.
"Fine fellows," he whispered hoarsely to himself. "Clever dogs…clever dogs…"
He replaced one trinket in the box and examined another, chuckling slyly as he did so.
"They never peached on old Fagin…not even when they knew they was to be hung…dear boys…clever dogs…"
A soft sigh.
Another chuckle.
The clink of jewels.
The creak of the box lid.
The shallow breathing of the old man.
Silence.