The Alternate Ending to the Monkeys Paw

The monkeys hired hand The old psychoneurotic lady snatched the paw away from his grasp, mumbling excitedly to herself she held the paw wet and said fiercely I worry my son alive again. She ofttimes repeated it over and over until it became a jumbled chant when curtly a slow but insistent knock rang through the free house. Mrs White leapt up at the first sluggish rap, My boy, my boy is lastly here she cried repeatedly fixing her dishevelled h impart combing her pass through the straggle and fixing an almost hysterical smile upon her sear face Oh do come meet our boy darling, I forgot that the burial ground is two miles from here and her chatter continued to herself, making imaginary plans, cart on her best baseball gloves and fur lined coat, she strode see the stairs with an air of excitement and bliss. Mr White stood at the space where his wife had been standing, and absent disposed(p) picked up the withered paw that had been discarded onto the floor, he gasped and reme mbered the face in the fire that he had seen on the night the major had been to visit him, the solar day that he had greedily wished for two hundred pounds and unfortunately got it.Coming back to his senses he rushed down the stairs after his wife to find her attempt with the large ebony drive away secrured firmly in place. Help me with the bolt its too heavy. She said. Instead of helping the old woman, he act tug her away from the vast bolt but she nudged me with such former that Mr White was hurled to the other side of the parler, causing him to knock his head on the mantle piece and observe his abberant wife throw open the ingress,turn disturbed with shock and recoil in disgust and trying to close the door on the hidious monster that was once their son but was thrown against the circumvent as the monster barged in.The old mans vision grew darkened and he slipped away to unconsciousness. When Mr White awoke he sat up bang and stood up slowly, walking towards the now sev ered door, and bent down and picked up a delicate glove it was almost unidentifiable he dropped the glove in disgust and walked over to what once was the parlour, Mr White sat down in his large mahogany chair and began to silently weep, clutching the wretched paw in his wrinkled hand and wished his third wish I wish I was dead. And with that he fell into a deep eternal pile that someday we must all face.