Chapter Six
Fantine: *sitting on the pavement, crying*
Some Passerby: *taps her shoulder* Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?
Fantine: *sniffles* What's not wrong? My boyfriend broke my heart, I've been reduced to prostitution, and I miss my daughter. Now, on top of all that, I've died and gone to Hell! *burst into a fresh bout of sobs*
Passerby: What are you talking about? This isn't Hell. It's just L.A. *gives Fantine a weird look and walks away as quickly as he can*
Fantine: *stops crying* You mean, I didn't die? But how?
The Lark: Because this is the humor category, and I'll raise any dead person I want!
Fantine: Oh great. It's that sadistic fanfic author again. What kind of horrible plans do you have for me today?
Suit Number Three: *taps her shoulder* Excuse me, ma'am? We represent the Oprah Winfrey Show…
The Lark: *evil laugh*
Fantine: The what?
Suit Number Four: Haven't heard of it?
Suit Number Three: *to his partner* Hey, maybe she's too poor to afford a TV. Perfect!
Suit Number Four: *to Fantine* We're always on the lookout for pathetic stories to showcase. We couldn't help overhearing you…
Suit Number Three: So, would you be interested in appearing on our show?
Fantine: *smiles apologetically* Maybe some other time. Now that I'm up off my deathbed, I have to go and find my poor daughter.
Suit Number Three: Just leave that to us.
Suit Number Four: *helps her into his car* Come on. Let's get her to the hair stylist. Maybe if we hurry, we can still salvage this *motions to Fantine's unevenly hacked hair*
Fantine: I don't want--
The two suits are chattering loudly into their cellular phones and can no longer hear her
Fantine: I have a bad feeling about this
Back at Valjean, Javert and Marius' cell in the nuthouse:
Javert: *crying loudly into Valjean's sleeve* And then, after my little brother was born, my parents threw me out of the house!
Valjean: *sniff, sniff* That's so sad. You never told me you had family
Javert: Oh, I don't anymore. My parents died a long time ago, and I hear my brother left home the second he was old enough in order to avoid the disgrace of being a convict's kid. I think he changed his last name to Enjolras or something. *wipes his eyes* He tells all his friends that he's an only child, and rich.
Valjean: I know how that goes. That's why I never told my daughter about my horrible past
Javert: *hugs Valjean* It's so much easier to understand each other now that we've learned to communicate freely, isn't it?
Marius: *sitting in a corner, watching the crying and hugging with a look of distaste* Guys? Are you through yet?
Valjean: *hugs Javert* I never stopped to think that your obsessive compulsive disorder could be a cry for help. I'm so sorry!
Javert: No, I'm sorry!
Valjean: No, I'm sorry!
Marius: *turns his face into the corner* If they don't shut up soon, I think I'm going to have to make use of these rubber walls
Javert: No, I'm sorry!
Valjean: No, I'm sorry!
Marius: *his eyes bloodshot, looking very fried* Guys? Now that we're all friends, don't you think we ought to start thinking about a way to get out of here?
Javert: *dries his eyes* The boy's right. Valjean, any suggestions?
Valjean: *shrugs* I don't know. I guess that, being an escaped convict, I should probably have some ideas, but… *sniffle*
Javert: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply--
Valjean: No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to the conclusion that you were trying to put me down
Javert: No, I'm sorry!
Valjean: No, I'm sorry!
Marius: *sigh* It looks like it's up to me *paces thoughtfully* I've got it! Monsieur Fauchelevent? Inspector Javert?
Valjean: It's Monsieur Valjean now. I've decided that it's bad for my self-esteem to keep denying who I am. *smiles proudly*
Marius: Um. Okay. Anyway, I think I have a plan. Can you two create a diversion the next time they open our door?
Valjean: No problem.
Javert: Sure
Marius: Excellent. I have a contact on the outside who'll help us. *goes to the window* Walter!
Walter: *sitting faithfully under the window* Ruff, ruff
Marius: Yeah, I know. Listen, I need you to go to the guard at the door and bring me the keys he keeps on his belt.
Walter: *scampers off* Ruff
Marius: I knew I could count on you.
Javert: *lifts an eyebrow quizzically* Uh, what's with the dog?
Marius: What? *defensive* Walter's the only decent friend I've ever had. He doesn't laugh at my politics, or make fun of me for having a girlfriend like my other friends do.
Valjean and Javert: *shrug*
Walter: *returns with a ring of keys in his mouth*
Marius: *reaches through the bars on the window and takes them* Thanks *pats his head*
The Doctor: *enters cell* Good evening, gentlemen. Guess what time it is?
Javert: *brightens* Is it time for that "America's Most Wanted" show again?
The Doctor: No. Time for your nightly sedatives. *opens a briefcase full of syringes and begins to sort through them*
Marius: *clears his throat loudly*
Javert: *looks embarrassed* Oh, right. Let's see, a diversion…
Valjean: I've got an idea. Javert, give me your nightstick
Javert: *clutches the nightstick protectively* What for?
Valjean: Javert, this is important *pries the nightstick out of his hands*
Javert: Hey!
Valjean: *hisses* Not now! *starts toward the doctor*
Javert: *tackles Valjean* You lousy thief! I should have known you hadn't changed
*Yet another scuffle ensues*
The Doctor: Ugh. Not again! *pushes a button on the wall, summoning two orderlies*
Javert: Let me at him! *kicks the orderlies trying to restrain him*
Valjean: Now look what you've done! You're going to be put into another straight-jacket, all because of your silly temper!
The Doctor: Gentlemen, just settle--*suddenly slumps to the floor*
Marius: *standing over the doctor, holding the nightstick* Heh heh heh…*to the orderlies* Anybody else want to be a hero?
The orderlies scurry away like scared bunnies
Valjean and Javert: *gape at him*
Marius: *shrugs* Hey, I don't just sing love songs, you know. *hands Javert the nightstick* Now, let's get out of here! *unlocks the door and runs for it*