Saturday, August 30, 2014

Quigsnip: The Untold Tale of Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist



Here is the "Oliver Twist" pastiche story that I have just completed!





http://www.amazon.com/Quigsnip-Untold-Charles-Dickens-Oliver/dp/150063476X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1409418750&sr=1-1&keywords=quigsnip



Here is an excerpt, BTW:

“You stole the money, Oliver! That you did! The money's here, Oliver!” Quigsnip held forth the familiar silk sack containing the inheritance money. “It's all here, Oliver! I checked! Oh, what a kind, brave, selfless, lad you are! Such a pity not one farthing will be spent on account of the children!”
N-no!” cried Oliver, his thin, soprano voice nearly breaking with anguish, “You're lying!” But in his despairing heart, Oliver knew his monstrous captor spoke the truth.
Am I?” roared Quigsnip, his voice filling with fury. “Just wait, boy, until the London Times runs the article! 'Oliver Twist Guilty of Robbing Shaftesbury's Charity!'” He snatched a letter from his pocket and held it out for Oliver to see. “And here is irrefutable proof of your guilt, and your personal indictment Dr. Losberne, right on this letter in your own handwriting! Not even your contemptible family can spare you now! Now, not even your dear Rose and Mr. Brownlow will believe you!”
NOOOOOOOOO!” wailed Oliver, in anguished misery. The boy fell on his knees, head downcast.
The men jeered at him.
Limbkins, though he would not liked to have admitted it, was terribly unsettled at the moment, more so now by the boy's harrowing cry.
Noah swaggered over to where Oliver slumped. “'Ow do ya like it now, Nolly?” the older lad sneered. “'Ow's that fer breaking my nose back at Sowerberry's?”
To Claypole's astonishment, the smaller boy sprang to life. Oliver sprang from his position like a stroke of lightening and drove his small, hard fist into Claypole's nose with savage force.
Noah reeled back, screaming and clutching his face.“My nose! 'Ee broke my bloody nose! Oliver broke it again!”
Oliver stood before his towering captors, tears of rage leaking down his cheeks, his small hands closed into fists.
What are you dolts waiting for?” Quigsnip ordered. “Get him!”
Oliver stood his ground, but there was nothing such a small, slim boy could do against the burly adults. They seized the frail lad and dragged him to the edge of a pier.
Now--”ordered the monstrous Quigsnip. “Bind him.”
The men bound Oliver's arms behind his back with heavy ropes. Two of them carried concrete blocks over to where they had Oliver bound.
Do his feet,” Quigsnip ordered.
They lashed the heavy weights to Oliver's thin legs.
As the boy stood in a stupor of despair, arms and legs bound on the edge of the pier, Quigsnip ordered his gang to step back.
Oliver was past caring. If what Quigsnip said was the truth, he didn’t care if he died.
Quigsnip stepped forward, an oily grin on his face. “And so I bid you a final farewell, young Oliver Twist. At last you've paid the price for the money I've lost, and for what your family did to me, the richest crime-lord in London! You'll serve as a prime of example of why no one ever crosses Zebedias Quigsnip and lives to boast of it! Know that that doctor friend of yours will pay along with you! Despair, young Oliver—and die!
With that, Quigsnip slashed out savagely with one leg. His booted foot smashed into the boy's middle with tremendous force. The wind knocked out of him, Oliver was propelled backward by the force. The bound boy flew of the pier. The polluted water surged over his head.
In seconds, Oliver was swallowed by the Thames.
























No comments:

Post a Comment