Oliver vs. The Artful Dodger

Oliver is hungry. Really hungry. The young ragamuffin is so hungry, in fact, that he ignores a cardinal rule of life in the orphanage: Enjoy what you got cause you ain't gettin' anymore! Oliver clutches his silver bowl and spoon in his wee hands and makes his way down the aisle of the dining hall. All orphan's eyes are upon Oliver and they can't decide if he's bold and brave or crazy and stupid. The young boy approaches the tyrannic Mr. Bumble and commits a huge foul when he asks:















"Please sir, may I have some more?"















"Whaaaaaaaaaat?"

Oliver spends the rest of the film running away from Mr. Bumble, acting the fool, dancing and singing and finally ending up with a rich old motherfucker who thinks he's the cutest little turd in Great Britain. You can argue that Oliver is a true hustler. He actively participates in cons and listens intently as Fagin teaches him how to "pick a pocket or two." Fucking Oliver. He has everyone fooled and he gets the last laugh when that wealthy old codger with cash to burn picks Oliver to be his living Madame Alexander doll. Precious!

Artful Dodger is way cooler than Oliver. He's a born hustler, shaking down limeys for their loot and thumbing his nose at authority. Oliver has but a fraction of AD's skills. Still, it is Oliver who ends up bagging the rich old fucker prize at the end of the film, begging the eternal question:

Who was the bigger hustler?

Answer: Mr. Bumble.

If I dressed up as General Cornwallis, imprisoned children and rebuked challenges to meager food portions with womanly, falsetto shrieking, I would be a youtube sensation for 15 minutes and prison bait for the next 40 to life.

Bumble, you the man.