Enjolras Must Die

One day, Marius Pontmercy was sitting in the parlour of his lavish home, throwing la pain grillé at the window, because that's what Marius Pontmercy does.

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door.

"Marius, get the door," said Marius.

"Marius, get the door," said Cosette, who was writing her sequel to Les Mis.

"Marius, get the door," said Gillenormand, who was directing the 1998 movie.

"Marius, get the door," said his elderly aunt, who was writing the musical.

"Yip!" yapped their Chihuahua, Burrito Dog. Marius interpreted it as "Marius, get the door."

Despite the fact that Chihuahuas didn't normally hang around 1830s France, Laura Kalpakian had written Cosette, Auguste Bille had directed the 1998 movie, and Boublil and Schonberg had written the musical, Marius got the door.

A bullet-ridden corpse was on the doorstep. Marius was just about to walk away whistling when it sat up and said, very clearly, "Pontmercy, why in the name of Patria were you throwing toast?"

"Enjolras!" Marius shrieked and jumped behind the rose bushes. "Why are you still alive?"

"Because I'm too sexy to die," said Enjolras, smirking.

Marius looked him over carefully. "No, you're not. You're too full of bullet holes."

Enjolras looked himself over carefully. "You're crazy! Look at me! I'm absolutely gorgeous! There's an avalanche of beauty in one person and it's me!"

"Cut the theatrics," said Marius. "You're not sexy with eight holes in your head!"

"I know how to settle this," said Enjolras. "Bring me a mirror!"

"Cosette," said Marius, "get a mirror."

"Grandfather," said Cosette, "get a mirror."

"Daughter," said Gillenormand, "get a mirror."

"Burrito Dog," said Marius's aunt, "get a mirror."

"Yip!" yapped the Chihuahua. He picked a mirror up off the wall and loyally dropped it at Marius's feet. Marius gave him a Dorito, and Burrito Dog valiantly trotted off.

"Okay, let's settle this once and for all, like real men do," said Enjolras.

Marius hung the mirror on the door. "Sexy?" He waved to his wife, grandfather, aunt and pet, who were staring out the window and snickering.

Enjolras caught a glimpse of himself. "I'm not sexy anymore! NOOOOOOO!" As he writhed on the ground, gasping for air, he managed to smash the mirror over Marius's head. "Seven years bad luck!" And with that, he died.

"Sissy!" shouted Gillenormand.

THE END