1. If it hadn't been for Gavroche we would all have been bored out of our minds. Instead he'd decided to have a Truth or Dare game. In tutus. Pink ones. From his buddy Raoul, who was either dead by now or would exist 40 years later, when we'd all either be dead of consumption or diseases in the rats running about.
Gavroche tugged at his "I'm not British, I swear" shirt and paced around. That tutu was simply not his color, and it made his hips look all--I'll stop there.
"Dodger ripoff indeed," he snarled at a dead tree.
"Gavroche, we're waiting."
"Bite me. Please. I'd quite like tha--I mean go away."
And then he hopped over the barricade in a single bound and started dancing with a beehive. Marius arrived to behold this exotic dance, and the song that consisted mostly of "ow ow ow get 'em off ow ow ow". A small group of young women in rather ragged, ink-stained clothing was following him, breathily detailing what they'd like him to do to their less stringy-haired self inserts. Or Eponine. Or Eponine-that-isn't-based-off-of-me-I-swear. "BRITISH STREET URCHIN!" came the shriek, and Gavroche bolted down the corpse-ridden road with the fangirls in hottie pursuit. "I'M NOT BRITIIIIIIIIIIIIISH!"
"yes u r," came a rather deranged voice. He turned. Eponine stood there, but dressed in an enormous, frilly, pink gown with a matching bow on her hat. A silly grin was plastered on her face. She appeared to be holding the drooling fangirls back, although they soon left to chase Marius again.
"Why are you speaking in netspeak, sis?"
"thats not imprtnt. nxt 2 marius-chan, ur tha hotest guy in tha fandom! "
"...I'm afraid I don't do incest...but Marius? What?"
"o yea. hes so hawt. nd if thare were no marius-chan :( ud be tha hotest! "
Gavroche blinked a few times and cleared his throat. "Yes. Well. I'm...11? 9? 5? 7? And I eat rodents. That's what goes for sexy these days?"
"u evr read fanfix?"
"...no?"
"well r&r min babii ;)"
"I'll keep that in mind, sis."
And with this knowledge, he scampered off and vomited until it made his pores bleed. A mysterious bucket descended from the sky.
"u nede this?"
"...please, if there is a God..."
"thare is! omg u dint no that:(:(:("
Gavroche beat her to death with a frozen rat and climbed atop the bucket. Rather nasty after collecting fangirl drool.
"One day, we will rise above the fangirls! We will be free to uphold our canon! We'll get my sister a more flattering dress!"
"HAY"
"But some day, even if it takes a thousand tea times...we will all be unsexy!"
And there was much rejoicing.
2. Christmas 1832. Gavroche was sitting underneath someone's tree. Eating a carrot. Because I'm strange like that. It had been 5 months since he had made his fangirl speech, and Cosette still had a cool-looking nose, spammit. It was time for drastic action.
After lunch.
Fnekkalekkamekka, the girl sitting around with him in his whatever that we never see again, was perched on his head. He'd lost his hat to some fangirl who sold it on ebay to have enough money for web hosting. She was horribly traumatized due to a recent fanboy attack when hordes of young men squealing "LE SECKSI" had paired her up with Fantine's corpse and a tree stump because "it was hot".
"Gavroche?"
"Yes, Fnekkalekkamekka?"
"My earlobe itches."
"Itch it."
"You're so smart, Gavvy."
"...don't call me that."
"Your mom."
"Wears combat boots. I know."
Suddenly a wet piece of fabric smacked into the window. Gavroche peeled it off. It read:
"dear pod-bro (ho is RELLY hot ;;)
this is ur pod-sister speking. riting. w/e. anyway theres a sue out 2 get u. ackshly 2. 3. u get the idea.
so if u c a hott chick RUN AWAY.
sinser--cinsere--the end,
pod-eponine"
"My God," Gavroche said, turning the note around in his hands. "She spelled Eponine correctly!"
Of course she did, Gavroche.
"Huh?"
This is Omnipotent, All-Seeing Voice. I am a voice who is omnipotent and sees all.
"Cool."
Your underwear's showing.
"Right."
Your sister has been taken over by Sue-itis to woo Marius. In time, every male in your fandom will be paired off with a Sue. You are the only one who can save us.
Here are the Sporks of Get Her Off Me, the Toothpick of Grammar, and the Mighty Clue-By-Four of Canonical Logic.
"Erm. Thanks. Can Fnekkalekkamekka come too?"
Sure. She can attract all the fanboys.
A unison "yay" followed.
Now go, brave sproggen! Go and free us from the tyrranical rule of fangirl!
"Fnekkalekkamekka?"
"Yes, Gavvy?"
"...I gotta go pee."
"Bush over there."
"Now that that's over...on to the Sue fortress."
Will our heroes defeat the Sues? Will Pod-Eponine get whatever sanity she once had back? Do Gavroche's socks match? Who would name their kid Fnekkalekkamekka? Tune in next time on...Random Fanfic Prompter!
3. When we last left our heroes they were rather awkwardly climbing out of a bush and preparing to rescue Podponine. Of course, once they did she'd revert to wangsty urchin mode, but hey.
"Where could they possibly be?" Fnekkalekkamekka gasped.
Gavroche pointed slightly northwest. "That neon pink sign that says 'Secret Mary-Sue Hideout Here' might be a good clue."
For indeed, even as he pointed one could see a tall, anorexic blonde with eyes that glowede like neone ducking in. And tripping over her giant skirt. Sexily, of course.
"I'll need your skirt."
"You're not thinking of doing that already, are you?"
"Well, okay, yes I am. But give me the skirt."
Within a few moments, Fnekkalekkamekka and Gavroche had disguised themselves. At best, they were a Fnookle-headed girl standing on the shoulders of a boy with debatable ethnicity, wearing a really huge skirt and trying to look like a Sue. At worst, they were a Fnookle-headed girl standing on the shoulders of a boy with debatable ethnicity, wearing a really huge skirt and trying to look like a Sue.
In they wandered.
Imagine, if you will, a bucket of pink paint. Not just any pink. A pink so eye-searingly girly it could make men who drank testosterone by the barrel put on a feather boa and throw glitter around.
Now pour that all over the smallest room imaginable.
Adorn the walls of said room with enough glitter to choke a horse.
That's about what this looked like.
A short woman with a wig the color of menstrual blood was running around demanding people pet her astral wings. Several flaxen-haired EppieSues were cavorting (there's that word again) about, squeeing until they needed to tape their necks on. And several "gaminettes" were parading about wishing "that stud-puppy Gavroche" were there.
"Good thing I brought that tutu."
"SHH. They'll ask why my legs are talking."
"It's...your mystical Sue power."
"Ooooooh. I'll have to hump you for that."
"K."
"Can anyone tell me where Sue Tower is?"
Everyone froze. For the first time, not a single fangirl spoke. The only sound was a falafel falling off someone's fork and the fake redhead flinging herself to the ground to catch it.
"And who," asked someone who looked suspiciously like Cosette with a mohawk, "are you?"
"Uhm...Meshugginah Fnooklenest Trixybell Spoink?"
"Ooooooooooooooh. It's over...there."
And so they left, rather awkwardly.
"Is it just me...or were her legs really, really cute?"
4. Sue Tower was yet another glittering pink monstrosity. Atop each window was the crest of Sparklypoo, and below was a gargoyle that looked something like a Barbie that spewed forth glitter every minute on the minute. Beneath these gargoyles were urchins seated on the ground, catching glitter in their hats in the hopes of selling it.
Gazing out one of these windows was Podponine. A wreath of Sueflowers was in her hair, and her period-inaccurate dress ruffled in the wind. And a glazed expression was strewn across her face like...a strewn thing.
Fnekkalekkamekka, aka Meshugginah Fnooklenest Trixybell Spoink, and Gavroche, aka Meshugginah Fnooklenest Trixybell Spoink's legs, approached this massive mound of all things Sue. A guard dressed in a glitter-covered tablecloth had been posted at the door and was busily twirling her pigtails and trying to look important.
"Name," she said in a voice she'd heliumed to perfection.
"Meshugginah Fnooklenest Trixybell Spoink."
"Like, oooooooooooooooooohmigawd!" she squealed, flinging her noodly-in-a-bad-way jelly bracelet covered arms about the two urchins. "I'm Maryeie-Shaueyu Spoink! YOU GET IN FREE. :D"
"Why do they speak emoticons?" Gavroche whispered. A bit too loudly.
However, in true contrived-fanfic fashion, this awoke Fnekkalekkamekka from the oncoming Sue-zombie brain splort, and her mind was spared. The two bolted in with Maryeie-Shaueyu close behind.
And it was then that the skirt caught on a hook on the wall, exposing the pair of street urchins who were by now very sick of pink. "It's Gavvy!" came the cry, and in the space of a few seconds hordes of squealing fangirls darted after them.
"HUZZAH," Fnekkalekkamekka shouted, leaping from behind a ficus tree and brandishing a Spork of Get Her Off Me.
A strange transformation took place.
"My astral wings," squealed the woman in the wig, then scampered off in search of a "Tristan you lazy arse". Eppiesues started wandering around stealing soap bars. And the peasants were tearing around town selling neon pink glitter and being bitten on the nose.
Podponine rose and beheld Gavroche, who was running towards her with tears in his eyes and Fnekkalekkamekka's skirt around his waist.
And then, because she was in character, she spontaneously started bleeding and fell over.
"Buy you some waffles?" Gavroche asked after kicking at her head a bit.
And the two ran off in search of the nearest waffle shop, as the world was spared from the onslaught of Sue.
...for a little while, anyway.
The End!