Everybody Loves Marius
A/N: Don't ask. A lot of OOC-ness ahead.
Everybody loves Marius. There's no way to doubt it. That beggar girl, the blondie from Rue Plumet, the random old men...everyone. As soon as they see him, they fall in love with him, sing a song either too or with him, and occasionally take a bullet for him. No big deal, really. Some would consider the young Baron a player, but it's not his fault that they fall for him. Or jump in front of a gun aimed at drag him through the Parisian sewers,despite the stains that would surely show up on their fifty-franc trousers.
But, again, big deal. Once upon a time, there was this skinny, boney, homely little scrap of a thing that fell for him. She probably didn't have much of a chance with him anyway, even if she hadn't plotted their Romeo-and-Juliet-esque deaths (In her defense, it did partially work. Juliet died too, didn't she?)
About the same time that Skinny-Boney-Little-Scrap was plotting Marius' doom, Cute-Blondie entered the picture. Actually, it was probably Cute-Blondie that made Skinny-Boney-Little-Scrap think Shakespearean thoughts. See, Cute-Blondie, unlike B-L-S, actually got Marius to like her too. Woo. Hoo. Marius and Cute-Blondie were going to get hitched, but his grandpa didn't like that idea too much. Probably 'cuz he wanted to keep him forever, locked up, in a cavern under the Opera Garnier, making him sing for him while chandeliers crashed upstairs...
You're probably wondering about Cute-Blondie's dad. After all, he was one of the poor unfortunates that fell for Marius also. Worry not, dear reader! We will get to him when we get there.
See, before Boney-Little-Scrap tried to kill Loverboy, she tried to get rid of Cute-Blondie. The original plan, spraying high-grade pesticide through the upper window, was out of the question for two reasons. The main one being that high-grade pesticide had yet to be invented (B-L-S was far ahead of her time, despite being a part-time prostitute and alcoholic). The second reason that, even if pesticide had been invented, B-L-S wouldn't have been able to afford it (she is a part-time prostitute, after all.) So a new plan had to be configured.
It was the best of plans, it was the worst of plans. It was the plan to end all plans and to put all other evil plots to shame.
So this plan, the plan to end all plans, was soon put in action by Boney-Little-Scrap knocking on the red door on Rue Plumet. Expecting to see Cute-Blondie, she was more than surprised to see an old man, with a beard to put Jesus' to shame, answer the door in a gold waistcoat. Seeing Boney-Little-Scrap's boney structure, torn clothing, and missing molars, Old Man greeted Boney-Little-Scrap the best way he could think of:"How may I help you, my son?" Pissed beyond measure, mainly because Boney-Little-Scrap was female (and wearing a dress!), B-L-S wasn't exactly sure what to do. BUT! Hope was near! Thinking on the spot, B-L-S told Old Man, in her whiniest, most pitiful voice: "Sir...[cough]...a spot, a [cough] place for the night...[cough, cough, wheeze, sneeze]...Just for the night, m'sieur..." Thinking of one final way to reassure that the man's kindness would follow through, she began to add, "And...and the [wheeze]..." But Boney-Little-Scrap's wheeze went on just long enough for Old Man to interject before B-L-S's words would have strongly hinted her gender. Old Man's beard began to be covered in tears as he took B-L-S in his arms in a bear hug that could kill. "You poor, poor boy! You poor child! You poor unfortunate soul! Of course you can stay!" Trying not to be suffocated, drowned, or too pissed that Old Man had once again gotten her gender incorrect, B-L-S noticed a stirring in the hallway behind Old Man.
"Papa!" Cute-Blondie came closer. "You don't know where that's been!" She tried to take Old Man's arms from around Boney-Little-Scrap, but when that failed, she went into the kitchen and returned with a large bar of Honey-Scented soap, made by Cute-Blondie herself. While she was busying herself with scrubbing down Old Man, he kept trying to defend himself without letting go of B-L-S.
"But Cosette!" he protested as she scrubbed his left arm. "He came here! He was just sitting on the porch, all lonely and cold!" To the right arm. "Please, dear! He won't hurt anyone! We'll house train him if he isn't already! I'll pay for the shots!" At this point, Cute-Blondie was done washing her father and was moving on to Boney-Little-Scrap.
Already angry about the improper pronouns, B-L-S could barely take it as the bar of soap began advancing towards her. Suppressing a growl, B-L-S barely managed to control her sanity. She did loose it, however, when Old Man asked of his daughter,
"Can we keep it?"
Boney-Little-Scrap could handle being called a "he," if it meant getting to slit the throat of Cute-Blondie. But "it?"
"You...you stupid old man!" Boney-Little-Scrap shouted at Old Man (Or tried to, rather. It's hard to yell when you've had too much to drink earlier). "You let a stranger into your house, offer them hospitality, but call them "IT?" Old Man looked at B-L-S in fear as she stomped her skinny bare feet out of the door. Looking on, Cute Blondie was taking turns internally laughing and feeling guilty as heck, soap in hand.
A/N: Ah, stupidity can be funny, no? No? Oh well. And I don't hate any of the characters, this is just my stupid-humor way of showing , since I didn't use a lot of names: Boney-Little-Scrap is Eponine, Cute Blondie is Cosette, and Old Man is Jean Valjean. Yes, Valjean is one word. I probably spelled Cosette wrong (too lazy to look in the book right now). So, thank you! Gratias!