Our Dear Spellchecker 'Ponine

A/N: What keeps us from writing badfic? Why do we get headaches when we're at the computer for too long? Read to find out.

2005, Somewhere In The States

Eponine lurked in the shadows, eagerly waiting. This one would be absolutely perfect.

The girl was young, perhaps thirteen or fourteen. She was sitting at one of those damned computer things, writing away. She clicked a few buttons, and suddenly some no-talent 'singer' could be heard throughout the house. She seemed to be talking through an oddly-shaped silver thing that kept emitting beeping noises.

"I saw this play Les Misérables, like, last week. Yeah, it was good. It was sooooo sad! This girl named Eponine was in love with this guy named Marius, but he liked this jerk named Cosette- no, it wasn't like Moulin Rouge- and they were doing this war thing and Eponine went to the battle place, I don't know why, but she got shot and died in Marius's arms. I'm thinking of writing a songfic for it- what about something by Evanescence? 'Bring Me To Life'? Yeah, perfect. Thanks, Adri. And there was this hot guy named Enjolras, and I swear he kinda liked Eppie- he sang this whole song after she died! Think I should write a songfic for that too?"

Eponine waited for the opportune moment. The girl was opening a writing program. Eponine knew this only too well. . .something called 'Microsoft Word', whatever that meant. Maybe, just maybe, the girl wouldn't start one of those blasted 'songfics'!

Too late, the girl was already writing down what looked suspiciously like lyrics. Eponine had to act fast. She slid through the girl's ear into her brain.

Eponine poked around for a bit, trying to find that place, that specific spot that would accelerate writing. Finally, she found it. She worked swiftly. There wasn't very much time.

There was this girl name Eponine (but people called her Eppie or Ponine) who liked this guy named Marius. She survived the war thanks to Marcelin Enjolras' surjery, but Marius didn't no that. He married this complete biotch name Cosette but he wasn't happy and didn't no why. (Why'd she have to go and make things so complicated???) Eponine met him again the next year, and he relized he hated Cosette and liked Eppie LOLZ!!!!!!!!!1111 So they got married and Cosette started goin' out with Enjay. And Gavroshe was adopted by them.

The End!!!!!!!112

Eponine shuddered. She really did have her work cut out for her on this one. Surely Victor could have sent someone else? She had no choice, however, and the story turned into this:

"Enjolras- no- you can't go out with Cosette! She's MINE, going out unchaperoned is frowned upon, it's completely out of character for you, you should be dead, and Gavroche is not meant for a family!" The gamin enforced Marius' comment by ripping up Enjolras' red waistcoat and muttering darkly about revenge and Swiss cheese.

"You're married to Eponine, despite the fact that there's no divorce available from Cosette," Enjolras pointed out.

"Who's Eponine?" said Marius innocently, attempting to hide her behind his back.

"Let me go!" cried Eponine. "I should technically be dead by now anyway, seeing as Enjolras has no surgical skills, but I'm sure the reviewers will let it pass."

"Let's hope they do," said Enjolras, prying the gamin's fingers from his golden hair.

"You're remarkably tolerant today, Non-Marcelin," Cosette remarked. "Usually you can't stand children. That's why I was perplexed when you said you wanted to adopt Gavroche."

"I should be adopting him, I'm his sister!" Eponine raged.

"And I should be with Cosette," Marius mourned.

"I should be with Marius," Cosette added.

"I should be dead," said Enjolras. He promptly keeled over, several bullet wounds developing on his face.

"As should I," said Eponine.

"And I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!" Gavroche cried.

Eponine sighed, shook her head, and resumed her work.

"I mean, I'm dead too," said Gavroche meekly.

"And, due to the laws of canon, my grandfather exists," said Marius.

"Look at my teeth!" M. Gillenormand cried, hobbling in on a cane.

Eponine smiled to herself. Victor would be very proud indeed.

Meanwhile. . .

"What the hell have I written?" the girl shrieked. She quickly picked up her cell phone. "Adri, you're never going to guess what happened!"

So the moral of the story is: Stick to canon, or Vic's characters will come possess you.

Excellent advice.

THE END