As you turn around to leave the ship, you suddenly feel a strange sensation beneath your feet. The next thing you know, you're tumbling through the air, falling off the rails and you find yourself tumbling down a flight of stairs and landing in a dark, damp alleyway.

You look up to see a group of penniless children, their eyes gleaming with hunger and desperation. "Please, sir," one of them says in a cockney accent, "we've been waiting for you. We're so hungry."

The children close in around you, their tiny hands grasping at your clothes like they're made of gold. You try to push them away, but there are too many of them. They devour you whole, their teeth tearing through your flesh like it's nothing more than a piece of bread.

As you lay there, dying in the alleyway, you can hear the children's high-pitched laughter and the sound of their tiny feet pattering away into the night. "We've got us a nice bit o' meat 'ere," one of them cackles. "Mum will be so proud."

And with that, your journey on the Titanic comes to an abrupt end. You never made it onto the ship, and now you're nothing more than a meal for a group of penniless children in Southampton. The end.