E.G&I.G: Woo! We are on a roll! It is 1:31am and we are still typing! Best get it out of systems while the caffeine lasts.
Enjolras briskly walked down the boulevard in a less then friendly neighborhood. Quarlow's magical circus was located in this particularly bad part of town.
"You, sir, look like a--" Quarlow began bowing.
"Not interested." Enjolras said flatly, keeping his pace and passing his tent.
"Oh, but sir!" Quarlow said, rushing in front of him and putting his hands up to stop him. "You seem very alone…"
"Alone? I have 7 best friends, 12 stalkers, and 18 restraining orders, I'm anything but alone." The revolutionary scowled as he attempted to push past the shorter and stouter man.
"Shit! My scheme, she falls apart!" Quarlow thought as he tugged at his collar, "uh, what I meant sir, is that you don't look like you have a furry companion,"
"Do I look like I want one?" He asked blandly.
"Yes, indeed you do, young sir!" Quarlow grabbed his arm and began pushing/leading him towards the tent.
"But that was sarcas—"
"Nonsense! Come in and take a look!" Quarlow then pulled him into his tent o' mystery ((und magical magic)).
"What is that?!" Enjolras demanded taking a few steps away from the two-ton elephant that was lazily eating the panther that was beside it.
"It's an elephant, and I think he's the perfect pet for you!"
"Are you off your block?!" The blonde shouted over the sound of the animals.
"A little bit, yes."
Enjolras shook his head and headed for the exit when the elephant dropped the panther and grabbed him about the waist and lifted him into the air. Enjolras' blue eyes widened in horror and he began thrash against the beast's trunk, "Put me down! Make him put me down!"
"I'm sorry, young sir, but he's your problem now!" Quarlow said as he unchained the elephant and swatted its hindquarters to get it running.
"HeEEeyy!!" Enjolras shouted as the elephant more or less threw poor Blondie onto his back and rumbled down the Parisian streets.
~*~*~*~*~*
MINUTES LATER"You sir, look like a well rounded young man!" Quarlow said smiling at a poorly dressed poet whom was unfortunately walking past his tent.
"Oh, thank you," Jehan said looking up from his writing to smile.
"But you look alone . . ."
"I don't follow…"
"A--lone."
"You lost me . . ."
"A pet! You need a pet!"
"… I still don't get it. ..."
"Oh! C'mon." Quarlow grabbed his arm and began pulling him towards the tent.
"I need an adult! I need an adult!" Poor Prouvaire cried, suddenly terrified and OOC.
"No, listen." The ringmaster said slowly, "I want to sell you something that will be a constant inspiration for your writing."
"If that's the case, why didn't you say so? Lead the way, my good man!" Jehan said cheerfully, putting his notebook in his inside pocket.
"Oy vey." A very stressed Sydney Quarlow turned and muttered, then turning back he smiled, "Please wait here young sir whilst I collect the pet that I think would suite you and your-eh, personality best." He wanted to say 'suit your girliness best' but that would have been a deal breaker. The ringmaster darted inside the tent and Prouvaire scribbled in his notebook, already inspired to do some writing when he was back in a flash toting----
A poodle; a white standard poodle trotting along on a skinny little leash, Jehan squealed like a little girl. "She's adorable! What's her name?"
"Actually, it's a 'he', and I haven't named him."
"Well, why not? He doesn't have a stage name?"
"He's not a stage dog, he's a security dog! You see, young sir, in this city there are plenty of rascals, cutthroats and burglars. (Not to mention pesky police inspectors) He looks like a statue in the dark, but he's got a bite." Quarlow explained briefly.
"Why did you choose a poodle?" Jehan asked curiously.
"Well why not a poodle? They aren't foo-foo dogs."***
"Oh. So he doesn't do any tricks."
"I never said that. Here watch!" Quarlow said slyly before he whistled sharply and held up his hands, "Pup! Look here." He said excitedly whilst conducting an imaginary orchestra. The pup wagged his tail and stood on its hind legs and jumped about in a sort of dance. When our strange Quarlow put his hands down and reached inside his tent for a hula-hoop, he held it out and the dog jumped through it.
"As you can see young sir, I have just the pet for you." The ringmaster said smiling mischievously
"Golly, you sure do!" Prouvaire said, scratching the dog's head.
"You two just make such a pair." Quarlow said, closing the deal, "If I may be free to say, sir; this dog is just perfect for you. He is a guard dog and a companion at the same time, he'll protect you and you're fruity ass and love you unconditionally." Quarlow baited, " And I'll tell ya, that's hard to come by. But… Since you are such a perfect match, I'll give him to you for free. No charge."
"Why what a kind and strange thing for you to do." Prouvaire said sweetly, taking the leash from him and tipping his hat to the ringmaster who bowed deeply in return. "Thank you for you patronage, young sir." Quarlow said darting inside the tent.
"Patronage? What patronage, you gave me a poodle."
No response. Jehan shrugged and patted his dog's head before taking the leash and walking on.
*** POODLES ARE NOT FOO-FOO DOGS!!! Poodles are German dogs, poodle comes from the German word 'pudel' meaning water, and the lousy haircuts are to keep the organs and joints warm. Foo-foo dogs –pffft-