~*~ When Fans Go Bad!: The Les Mis Version ~*~
(Or: A Game for Bored Young Girls to Play)
~*~ By Andi and Mori (I just realized that if Mori was Mrs. Mori, her name would be Mori Mori!) ~*~
A/N: Now, leaving Bahorel out really WAS my fault. I KNEW I forgot someone.*sighs* Ah well, LOL. He'll be back later! ^^;; And I didn't feel like making up a first name for Enjolras, so he remains first-name-less. Wow, is that really ALL I have to explain? *blinkblink* Drat! More confusing stuff, hopefully, in the next chapter! ^.~
~ Andi, as usual ~
IV. Chapter Two, or: Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch ...
Grantaire was drunk. That was no surprise. He was ALWAYS drunk.
Joly was "sick". That was no surprise, either. He was ALWAYS "sick".
Jehan was writing poetry. That was no surprise. He was ALWAYS writing poetry.
Courfeyrac was talking. That was no surprise. He was ALWAYS talking.
Combeferre was debating with Feuilly. Over philosophy and politics. That was no surprise. They ALWAYS debated philosophy and/or politics.
Bossuet was unlucky. That was even less of a surprise. He'd ALWAYS been unlucky.
Enjolras was sighing in frustration with his group. That was the least surprise of all. He was ALWAYS frustrated with at least one person in his group.
In other words, it was an ordinary boring afternoon in the ABC Café.
Then, everything fell apart.
The door burst open, and a tall, almost fat man entered. "Ahem. Is there one Monsieur Enjolras here?"
Laigle burst out laughing. He recognized the man as a police officer, and smacked Enjolras on the back. "Even the police don't know your first name? Are you scared they'll stalk you, or just trying to avoid rabid fangirls?"
Enjolras gave the Eagle a lofty glare before turning to the man. "Yes, I am Enjolras. What do you want?"
The man sprang forward and jumped on a table, effectively smashing several bottles, knocking several glasses over (one of them onto Jehan's notebook, which instantly prompted the sensitive poet to burst into tears), and making Grantaire fall over backwards. Music began to play as the man paced back and forth on the tables, twirling a stick menacingly.
~
"Hey, Mori? Isn't that stick Andi's?" Combeferre inquired, frowning.
Mori supressed an annoyed sigh. You were THERE, Combeferre! Hey, that rhymes...you were there, Combeferre... ahem, anyway - don't YOU remember what happened? Were you sleeping or something?
Combeferre shrugged. "I guess I forgot..."
Mori groaned. How did she get stuck with this crazy lot? Just keep watching, then. I'll explain in a minute.
~
The Amis stared at the man in horror, with faces closely resembling "O_O". Enjolras groaned and leaned his head against his hand. "Oh, ye Gods..."
"Tell me quickly, what's the story? Who saw what and why and where?"
"How about YOU give ME the story?" Enjolras retorted. "You have no right to waltz in here unnanounced, breaking up a - "
The word "rights" sent the man off on another tangent. "You have no rights! Come with me, 24601!" He reached forward and grabbed Enjolras's arm, attempting to drag him out of the inn.
"Ahh! What are you DOING?" Enjolras ripped his arm out of the man's grasp, staring at him in shock, horror, and just plain disgust. "Are you DRUNK or just insane?"
~
"Seriously, what was he drinking?" Enjolras shook his head in disapproval, and Javert glared at him.
Shut UP, everyone! Mori grumbled, hitting Enjolras sharply on the head. The revolutionary frowned, but fell silent. Anyway...
~
"He could not run forever, no, not even Jean Valjean!" The man bellowed, waving his stick, seeming not to notice Enjolras.
Enjolras, however, was getting impatient. "Calm down. Why are you here?!" He crossed his arms and waited. Suddenly Gavroche burst through the door, singing.
"Good evening, dear Inspector, lovely evening my dear." The little boy turned to the Amis. "I know this man, my friends, his name's Inspector Javert! So don't believe-"
"SILENCE!!!" And there was silence. "...Now. 'Inspector Javert.' Explain yourself."
The police officer raised himself up, still standing on the table. "I'm Javert. Do not forget my name. Do not forget me."
Just as quickly as Javert had finished his introduction, the world blew up.
~*~*~
"...Enjolras?" It was Grantaire.
Another voice piped up. "I feel a strange sensation. It must be..." Joly went into a specific description of what disease he thought he was suffering, and so on.
And indeed, the Amis looked down, and saw nothing.
"Hmm." Combeferre looked confused. "If we're disembodied, how can we look down?" Now they all realised they were in a completely dark place, and had the sensation of flying through the air. It would have been too dark to tell whether they had bodies or not, but for the inability to move. Suddenly there was a jolt, and they found themselves surrounded in water, the afternoon sun shining through the cold waves.
Combeferre looked flustered. Courfeyrac looked mildly amused. Jehan looked like he was about to cry. Feuilly looked worried. Lesgles looked like he was used to it - just his luck. Joly looked seasick. Grantaire looked drunk.
~
BIG surprise, muttered Enjolras, shaking his head. Mori glared at him.
"Hey, Mori, I just realized something," piped up Courfeyrac.
WHAT? grumbled the frustrated author, almost giving up hope on writing down the events that had lead the group here.
"You never mentioned Bahorel."
"Hey, that's right..." added Combeferre, as Mori colored sharply. "Whatever happened to him?"
"Mori...are you killing off random Amis as you see fit?" Enjolras had a murderous glint in his eye.
NO!!!! Mori sweatdropped. It's all Andi's fault!
"Oh no, you can't get out of this by blaming it on Andi! You shove everything onto her," muttered Enjie.
"Poor girl." Combeferre shook his head.
Mori sweatdropped some more. Gahhh! Look, I'm an author! I can do what I see fit with characters I don't see fit to be included in the story! And besides, Bahorel had an... er ...unfortunate incident with a can opener.
"Can openers haven't even been invented yet!!!"
Shut UP, Enjie! I SAY they're been invented, OK???
"Fine," grumbled the revolutionary leader, stalking off to sulk somewhere. Combeferre and Courfeyrac glared at Mori for angering their Fearless Leader.
Mori sweatdropped even more. Fine, I'll just keep writing...
~
None of these expressions, however, compared to the surprising amount of emotion on Enjolras's face. He looked angry, confused, upset, furious, and frustrated, even though several of those emotions were the same thing. He was shaking in silent rage and fury, and finally let it all out. "NEEP!!!!!!!!!!"
Crickets chirped, seagulls squawked, and silence filled the waves. Courfeyrac finally gathered himself enough to speak. "...Neep?"
Enjolras surveyed the faces of the Amis. Combeferre, Feuilly and Jehan looked torn between confusion and worry. Courfeyrac and Joly looked torn between amusement and worry. Grantaire and Lesgles were trying to supress their laughter. The blonde student turned bright red.
"Anyway...how do we get out of here?"
"And where is 'here'?" added Lesgles.
"I think I'm catching a cold!" whined Joly.
"Is there any alcohol nearby?" inquired Grantaire.
"And why are we all floating like this? Shouldn't we be sinking?" pointed out Combeferre.
All the Amis looked at each other...and abruptly began to sink.
(Or: A Game for Bored Young Girls to Play)
~*~ By Andi and Mori (I just realized that if Mori was Mrs. Mori, her name would be Mori Mori!) ~*~
A/N: Now, leaving Bahorel out really WAS my fault. I KNEW I forgot someone.*sighs* Ah well, LOL. He'll be back later! ^^;; And I didn't feel like making up a first name for Enjolras, so he remains first-name-less. Wow, is that really ALL I have to explain? *blinkblink* Drat! More confusing stuff, hopefully, in the next chapter! ^.~
~ Andi, as usual ~
IV. Chapter Two, or: Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch ...
Grantaire was drunk. That was no surprise. He was ALWAYS drunk.
Joly was "sick". That was no surprise, either. He was ALWAYS "sick".
Jehan was writing poetry. That was no surprise. He was ALWAYS writing poetry.
Courfeyrac was talking. That was no surprise. He was ALWAYS talking.
Combeferre was debating with Feuilly. Over philosophy and politics. That was no surprise. They ALWAYS debated philosophy and/or politics.
Bossuet was unlucky. That was even less of a surprise. He'd ALWAYS been unlucky.
Enjolras was sighing in frustration with his group. That was the least surprise of all. He was ALWAYS frustrated with at least one person in his group.
In other words, it was an ordinary boring afternoon in the ABC Café.
Then, everything fell apart.
The door burst open, and a tall, almost fat man entered. "Ahem. Is there one Monsieur Enjolras here?"
Laigle burst out laughing. He recognized the man as a police officer, and smacked Enjolras on the back. "Even the police don't know your first name? Are you scared they'll stalk you, or just trying to avoid rabid fangirls?"
Enjolras gave the Eagle a lofty glare before turning to the man. "Yes, I am Enjolras. What do you want?"
The man sprang forward and jumped on a table, effectively smashing several bottles, knocking several glasses over (one of them onto Jehan's notebook, which instantly prompted the sensitive poet to burst into tears), and making Grantaire fall over backwards. Music began to play as the man paced back and forth on the tables, twirling a stick menacingly.
~
"Hey, Mori? Isn't that stick Andi's?" Combeferre inquired, frowning.
Mori supressed an annoyed sigh. You were THERE, Combeferre! Hey, that rhymes...you were there, Combeferre... ahem, anyway - don't YOU remember what happened? Were you sleeping or something?
Combeferre shrugged. "I guess I forgot..."
Mori groaned. How did she get stuck with this crazy lot? Just keep watching, then. I'll explain in a minute.
~
The Amis stared at the man in horror, with faces closely resembling "O_O". Enjolras groaned and leaned his head against his hand. "Oh, ye Gods..."
"Tell me quickly, what's the story? Who saw what and why and where?"
"How about YOU give ME the story?" Enjolras retorted. "You have no right to waltz in here unnanounced, breaking up a - "
The word "rights" sent the man off on another tangent. "You have no rights! Come with me, 24601!" He reached forward and grabbed Enjolras's arm, attempting to drag him out of the inn.
"Ahh! What are you DOING?" Enjolras ripped his arm out of the man's grasp, staring at him in shock, horror, and just plain disgust. "Are you DRUNK or just insane?"
~
"Seriously, what was he drinking?" Enjolras shook his head in disapproval, and Javert glared at him.
Shut UP, everyone! Mori grumbled, hitting Enjolras sharply on the head. The revolutionary frowned, but fell silent. Anyway...
~
"He could not run forever, no, not even Jean Valjean!" The man bellowed, waving his stick, seeming not to notice Enjolras.
Enjolras, however, was getting impatient. "Calm down. Why are you here?!" He crossed his arms and waited. Suddenly Gavroche burst through the door, singing.
"Good evening, dear Inspector, lovely evening my dear." The little boy turned to the Amis. "I know this man, my friends, his name's Inspector Javert! So don't believe-"
"SILENCE!!!" And there was silence. "...Now. 'Inspector Javert.' Explain yourself."
The police officer raised himself up, still standing on the table. "I'm Javert. Do not forget my name. Do not forget me."
Just as quickly as Javert had finished his introduction, the world blew up.
~*~*~
"...Enjolras?" It was Grantaire.
Another voice piped up. "I feel a strange sensation. It must be..." Joly went into a specific description of what disease he thought he was suffering, and so on.
And indeed, the Amis looked down, and saw nothing.
"Hmm." Combeferre looked confused. "If we're disembodied, how can we look down?" Now they all realised they were in a completely dark place, and had the sensation of flying through the air. It would have been too dark to tell whether they had bodies or not, but for the inability to move. Suddenly there was a jolt, and they found themselves surrounded in water, the afternoon sun shining through the cold waves.
Combeferre looked flustered. Courfeyrac looked mildly amused. Jehan looked like he was about to cry. Feuilly looked worried. Lesgles looked like he was used to it - just his luck. Joly looked seasick. Grantaire looked drunk.
~
BIG surprise, muttered Enjolras, shaking his head. Mori glared at him.
"Hey, Mori, I just realized something," piped up Courfeyrac.
WHAT? grumbled the frustrated author, almost giving up hope on writing down the events that had lead the group here.
"You never mentioned Bahorel."
"Hey, that's right..." added Combeferre, as Mori colored sharply. "Whatever happened to him?"
"Mori...are you killing off random Amis as you see fit?" Enjolras had a murderous glint in his eye.
NO!!!! Mori sweatdropped. It's all Andi's fault!
"Oh no, you can't get out of this by blaming it on Andi! You shove everything onto her," muttered Enjie.
"Poor girl." Combeferre shook his head.
Mori sweatdropped some more. Gahhh! Look, I'm an author! I can do what I see fit with characters I don't see fit to be included in the story! And besides, Bahorel had an... er ...unfortunate incident with a can opener.
"Can openers haven't even been invented yet!!!"
Shut UP, Enjie! I SAY they're been invented, OK???
"Fine," grumbled the revolutionary leader, stalking off to sulk somewhere. Combeferre and Courfeyrac glared at Mori for angering their Fearless Leader.
Mori sweatdropped even more. Fine, I'll just keep writing...
~
None of these expressions, however, compared to the surprising amount of emotion on Enjolras's face. He looked angry, confused, upset, furious, and frustrated, even though several of those emotions were the same thing. He was shaking in silent rage and fury, and finally let it all out. "NEEP!!!!!!!!!!"
Crickets chirped, seagulls squawked, and silence filled the waves. Courfeyrac finally gathered himself enough to speak. "...Neep?"
Enjolras surveyed the faces of the Amis. Combeferre, Feuilly and Jehan looked torn between confusion and worry. Courfeyrac and Joly looked torn between amusement and worry. Grantaire and Lesgles were trying to supress their laughter. The blonde student turned bright red.
"Anyway...how do we get out of here?"
"And where is 'here'?" added Lesgles.
"I think I'm catching a cold!" whined Joly.
"Is there any alcohol nearby?" inquired Grantaire.
"And why are we all floating like this? Shouldn't we be sinking?" pointed out Combeferre.
All the Amis looked at each other...and abruptly began to sink.