. . .okay, I wrote this months ago one day when I had this bloody song stuck in my head. It was right after I had heard about some poetry thing and jotted down a bunch of stupid, short Les Mis things. (They were, by the way, titled Dawn of Anguish, Jehan, 9 words short of Thenardier Drabble, and Thoughts of a Leaking Wine cask.) It was after this last one that One Tin Soldier got stuck in my head, and since I was already in a Grantaire-ish mood… well. So, yeah. After posting Of Horrific Health Classes, I was in a posting mood, so I decided to put up this other thing that I unearthed from my notebook. . . .Those aforementioned 4 pieces will not be put up. Now that that's out of the way. . .

Disclaimer: I do not own Les Misérables or One Tin Soldier the song.

- - - I C E C R E M I S C O L D - - -

Fools. They're all bloody fools. Tossing their lives away like empty bottles to the shadows of my table. "Kill the government! Kill the National Guard! Kill stupid young boys our age, Kill us." Bah. Idiots. I'm not about to get in the middle of that. They feeling suicidal? Fine. Doesn't affect me. Just stay away whilst throwing your little riot. Blood ruins wine.

So go ahead and hate your neighbor.

Go ahead and slay a friend.

"Vive la république. We are doing this for the people. They are being oppressed. We have to save them. Life, Liberty, and Equality."

Do it in the name of heaven;

You can justify it in the end.

Keh. Yeah, right. How will that help their honored suffering? Taint the wine? Or. . . what is that odd, disgusting liquid that seems so popular? . . .Ah, yes, water. They think this is right, that it's what the founders intended for France. Ché. Let them think what they want to think. I'll toast you all in hell.

There won't be any trumpets blowing,

Come the judgment day.

I awaken. Why would I be waking up? It is silent. Ah. Only Apollo is left then, eh? What an end. I was right, and now they know it, too.

On the bloody morning after. . .

Vie la république! Two birds with one stone! Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Flying. Oh! See Apollo there? Of course he would retain his godly shine even punctured by eight bullets. Come now, why so stiff, you fine statue? And he continues to stand. Even in death. Huh. Ah, look at that! Heaven! Who would'a thunk it? Suppose it's be cause I would follow him here, to a place that doesn't even exist. . . My Orestes.

One tin soldier rides away.

Au revoir, green fairies.

- - I C E C R E A M I S S W E E T - - -

. . .Okay, that's it. You can get on with your lives now. Sorry for wasting your time!

There are 13 bangs because 8 bullets hit Enjolras, and I figure at least 2 or 3 would have hit Grantaire (gomen, noble drunkard, but you're just not important enough to warrant as many bullets as everyone's favorite sun god), plus at least 2 would have missed them both and hit the wall. So, yeah. That's my logic.

. . .And this is really random, but my borders aren't, well, random. The majority of you won't understand them because they're from a not very followed series called Magic Kaito. (Yes, yes, I look down on random crosses in something that isn't a crossover as well; it confuses everyone, blah blah blah…) In fact, at this point I'm quite sure the only one who would get it at least a little is Chagrins. So. . .yeah. Thanks for taking the time to read this incredibly pathetic piece. Bye now!