Javert sauntered along the Luxemburg, seeking a criminal to punish due to
his obsessive nature and his lack of anything else to do. A young man whom
he vaguely recognized was sitting on a bench, lecherously watching a young
girl. Javert pondered smacking the man upside the head for such indecency,
when it struck him- it was. Marius! Javert puffed out his chest in an
official yet oddly endearing manner and approached Marius. He stood right
in front of Marius, arms crossed like Napoleon, his head cocked to the
side. Marius didn't heed Javert, and coughed in a manner that seemed to be
the equivalent of saying "Hey monsieur, I'm scoping out a chick, not you,
so would you kindly move.
"You are under arrest," Javert affirmed authoritatively.
Marius looked both ways, as if he were considering jaywalking or
something, and then said, "who. me?"
"Yes, you."
"Couldn't be me!"
"Then who?"
Just as Marius was about to allege that Monsieur Leblanc over there
stole the cookie from the cookie jar, recognition dawned upon him.
"Inspector Javert! Long time no see! How's the wife? What happened to
the moustache?"
Javert blinked rapidly, as a way of expressing surprise without letting
anything on. "Uh, I'm not married, and. well, some people find moustaches
gross (like the author) so I shaved it off but plan to grow it back after
the barricade falls so that I can clutch it and prostrate before springing
into the River Seine, " he remarked.
"Oh," shrugged Marius.
"And anyways," continued Javert in his baritone voice, "You are under
arrest!" (Deep down, he was praying for Marius to exclaim in a startled
and worried voice, 'why?')
"Why?" Marius exclaimed in a startled and worried voice.
"Because you stole my pistol and I want it back! I was only letting
you borrow it, for god's sake! And so, for the aforesaid reasons, you are
under arrest!" proclaimed Javert, feeling like his good deed was done for
the day.
To Javert's surprise, Marius sighed in a relieved manner and actually
let out a little chortle. "Oh, you mean this old thing?" he laughed
coquettishly, referring to his pistol as if it were a frumpy dress. He
pulled the pistol from his jacket, and a woman somewhere screamed.
"GUN! AHH, HE'S GOING TO KILL US ALL!" Sister Simplice, who was
visiting Paris from Montfermeil sur Mer, cried out. Her habit streaming
after her like the tail of a kite, she cantered about in unruly circles,
disturbing the Gamins.
Resuming his terrific intimidating discourse, Javert declared, ".And,
reckless enfrightenment of a nun. Relinquish now."
Marius, for reasons unbeknownst to us, knew the perfect escape cry:
"Hey look! It's the gypsies and the circus!"
Javert spun around, his eyes wide, uttering an unsteady, "Mom?" while
Marius made a break for it. He quickly noticed that there was neither
circus nor Gypsies, and was about to pursue Marius when he noticed. (Jean
ValJean? Why, no!) an old woman walking in an area where a sign clearly
stated in French: keep off the grass. Smiling his scary smile that Victor
Hugo describes so proficiently, he caressed his policeman club and strode
to the woman.
"You're under arrest."
FIN!
