(The Mizzies and Oliver!s have split up. If there's one thing worse than fictional characters on the streets, it's two groups of fictional characters on the streets.)
Eppie: Have you seen my sister? Azelma?
Azelma: (pops into existence) Hi!
Eppie: Sis! (hugs Azelma tightly)
Azelma: Can't –gasp- breathe!
Eppie: (releases her) Oh, sorry! Here, have you met the rest of the Mizzies?
Azelma: Mizzies? What are Mizzies?
Eppie: Oh, lucky! You haven't met our… charming authoress. She calls us Mizzies.
Azelma: Why? Where'd she get it from?
Eppie: No clue. Just go with it, or you'll end up like Valjie.
Azelma: Two things. Valjie? And isn't he like that because Javert is with us?
Eppie: (considers) OK, that may be it. But still. Oh, yeah, the authoress likes shortening Mizzie names.
Azelma: And mine?
Eppie: Well you weren't shortened upon entrance, so you won't ever be! Sorry!
Azelma: (shrugs like she doesn't care in that way in which it is perfectly obvious that she does care) Doesn't matter. I hate my name being shortened anyway.
Eppie: OK, then.
(Enjy walks over the road, and the rest of the Mizzies run after him, forcing a lot of cars on the road to make screeching noises.)
Enjy: VIVE LA REPUBLIQUE!
(A little girl goes up to the Mizzies, around five or six. Let's call her Mimi. 'Cos it's a really really random name. Anyway.)
Mimi: You dress funny!
Enjy: Excuse me!
Mimi: Well, you do! And you! What are you wearing!
Eppie: OI!
Mimi: And he's… OK… but he really needs to lose the France ribbon.
Gavvy: You didn't! Oh, it's on!
Mimi: Mummy!
(But her mother is on the other side of the road and has more sense than the Mizzies- and can only watch as Gavvy attacks her. A revolutionary nine year old against an annoying five year old… poor Mimi.
Anyway, while this was going on, the Oliver!s were getting up to as much mischief…)
Dodger: You see that beak with those 'Mizzies', Charley?
Charley: Yeah! 'E looked like the sort of person to be wiv that prime plant, Mr. Brownlow!
Mr. Brownlow: (looking over) Oh, thank you!
Dodger (rolling his eyes): Yeah, 'xactly. Hmmm… OI, BILL!
(Bill hurries over, looking around him darkly.)
Nancy: Bill, dearest…
Bill: WHAT 'AVE I TOLD YOU!
Nancy: Sorry, sorry. Billikins, we're in the middle of the park. The way you dress and the menacing air is enough to scare off everyone else. You don't need to give them death glares as well!
Bill: Sorry. So, Dodger. What is it?
Dodger: See that Mizzie policeman before?
Bill: What? POLICEMAN? Right.
Nancy: Bill!
Bill: Nancy…
Nancy: Sorry, sorry! Billikins!
Bill: Now, Nancy, shut up. Charley!
Charley: Yes, Sir!
Bill: Get me my gun!
(Charley pops. A moment later he has come back with a gun.)
Bill: Get me my knife!
(Charley pops. A moment later he has come back with a knife.)
Bill: Get me my fish!
(Charley pops. A moment later he has come back with a rather large, rather wet dead fish.)
Bill: Thank you. (Bill goes off to find Javert, having left the gun and knife behind, twirling the fish dangerously and ignoring the strange looks)
Fagin: Now, one, two, three!
Fagin's random gang: Oh, Snoofles
Our Snoofles
Where art thee?
Under hill, painting, rock or tree?
Where be you lurking
Where be your den?
Come out, come out, Snoofles
Before we count to ten!
A/N: There ya go. Chappie 4. Now you see that button at the centre of the bottom of the page? It practically is calling out to you! Go into a silent room. Turn everything off and close all windows and doors. Hear that? 'Press me!' it's saying. 'Press me!'