A/N- Sorry that took so long. My computer was, as you may or may not know, broken for a full eleven days. Eleven days of excruciating torture for me... I had no forums, no fanfiction, and no Microsoft Word. I ended up going to see the POTO film five times and renting LSOH and watching it several times a day. I even made a papier-mâché Audrey III! Yes, I was friggin dying.
(The characters are huddled in the corner, whispering amongst themselves. The Authoress is sitting in another corner, drawing on a piece of notebook paper and talking to Chauvelin in broken French.)
Madame Giry: (flipping a long braid that has grown since the last update) Why doesn't M'sieur le Vicomte ask? Ze Auzoress seems to like heem quite a lot.
Raoul: But why me?
Firmin: Because she likes you. She tried to kill Miss Daaé, and it's obvious she doesn't care much for the Opera Ghost.
André: I want my hair back, dangit!
(Meanwhile...)
Authoress: Et Robespierre était... um... crazy?
Chauvelin: Citoyen Robespierre? Jamais! Il est un génie!
Authoress: He's a... genie? ... Dude, no wonder I make all my characters speak English!
(Raoul approaches them.)
Authoress: What's wrong, love?
Raoul: Well... er... the others and I were noticing that some things are different since last update...
Authoress: Such as...?
Raoul: Well, my hair. I used to have curly hair, see, and now it's long and blondish... and Madame Giry developed a thick accent and grew a braid overnight... and Buquet seems to have gotten about fifty years younger... I don't know what you did to Firmin and André, but they look rather odd... Not to mention poor Christine's pretty blonde hair turned brown...
Erik: And how come I don't look any different, huh?
Authoress: I like you with glowing yellow eyes and a skull head. If I'd changed you, you'd be a stupid hot Elvis guy! I know you don't wanna be a stupid hot Elvis guy who can't sing worth poo. So I let you stay hideous and deformed.
Erik: I hate you.
Authoress: Mutual. But Raoul, don't you like your pretty Patrick Wilson hair?
Raoul: Actually... yeah... but Christine...
Authoress: Fine, okay, I'll re-Leroux-ify Christine.
Raoul: The managers? Madame Giry? Monsieur Buquet?
Authoress: Hon, do you think Madame Giry is a nice lady right now?
Raoul: Yeah...
Authoress: Then trust me, you don't want me to Leroux-ify her. As for Buquet, he was pretty much dead to begin with. Like Marley.
Raoul: Like who?
Authoress: And the managers are completely Weber... I mean, I could call them Richard and Moncharmin, but aren't André and Firmin easier to say?
Raoul: Actually... yes.
Chauvelin: C'est vrai, ce qu'elle a dit.
Authoress: Okay, Chauv, speak English.
Chauvelin: Je veux savoir, pouq-why are you holding me here against my will?
Authoress: (to Raoul) That was cool, wasn't it?
Raoul: Um... it was a little frightening.
Authoress: Don't mock me. Okay, Christine's blonde again.
Raoul: The others?
Authoress: No, I like them this way.
Raoul: Er... okay.
(Madame Giry joins them.)
Madame Giry: Mademoiselle Auzoress, you 'af not 'elped to find my leettle Meg.
Authoress: (to Raoul) Ick, you're right. (to Madame Giry) Don't do that anymore.
Madame Giry: Eef she 'as gone meeseeng, I really must know where she is. After all, she is my daughter...
Authoress: That's power.
(Raoul runs off to make sure Christine is blonde again, which she is.)
Madame Giry: Mam'zelle Authoress, are you even listening to me?
Authoress: Huh? No.
Madame Giry: My little Meg! She is still missing!
Authoress: Well, she'll show up eventually. After all, there's no way to escape this theater without my permission.
Chauvelin: But there is a way in without your permission.
Authoress: Apparently.
Chauvelin: What are you and these strange people doing in here, citizenness?
Authoress: We're doing Les Mis, and it's quite fun! Wanna join in? You could be a pimp or something.
Chauvelin: A pimp?
Authoress: Oh, no, wait! You can be Javert! ... No... Never mind. That's too in character for you... It won't even be interesting... I guess I could be Javert... or maybe not... Oh, no, I have it! Yes, I have a role for you! (Getting to her feet) Okay, yay! Let's start looking down, shall we?
(The music cranks up, and the ensemble takes their places on the very cool set that has migrated onstage from the wings. The poor is made up of reviewers, of course...)
All:
Look down and seeThe beggars at your feet
Look down and show
Some mercy if you can!
Look down and see
The sweepings of the street
Look down, look down
Upon your fellow man!
(Erik comes center stage, looking irritated, as usual, with his new role.)
Erik
How do you do, my name's Gavroche.
Authoress: COCKNEY OR PERISH!
Erik
These're me people an' 'ere's my patch Not much t' look at, nothing posh Nothing that you'd call up t' scratchThis is m' school, my 'igh society
'Ere in th' slums of Saint-Michel
We live on crumbs of 'umble piety
Tough on the teeth, but what the hell?
Think you're poor?
Think you're free
Unlike me
Follow me... If I were in character you would all be dead... except perhaps Christine...
Authoress: Wah.
Ensemble
Look down and show some mercy if you canLook down, look down, upon your fellow man!
Authoress: Aw, junk! Meg's not here! Erm... Chauv, you do it.
(The citizen of the French Republic has no idea what's going on, but he agrees anyway. Poor chap.)
Madame Giry
Whatcha think yer at 'Anging round me pitchIf you're new around here, girl
You've got a lot to learn!
Chauvelin: (slowly, a little confused)
Listen... you old bat
Crazy bloody witch
Least I give my customers
Some pleasure in return... oh my...
Madame Giry
I know what you give!Give 'em all the pox!
Spread around your poison till
They end up in a box!
Gibbuquet: (to Chauvelin)
Leave the poor old cow Move it, Madeleine!She used to be no better
Till the clap got to her brain! Er... What did I just say?
Authoress: I have no idea.
Chauvelin: Did you just make me a woman of the town?
Authoress: Yeah... but it's okay, I'll give you a better role in a minute.
Chauvelin: I can only hope.
Erik: Now you know what I have to put up with.
Chauvelin: You can't escape?
Erik: Trapped.
Chauvelin: Maybe I can free you by way of the door through which I entered.
Authoress: ERP! Wrong.
Chauvelin: Does she hear everything I say?
Erik: It's pretty bad, isn't it?
Ensemble
When's it gonna end?When we gonna live?
Something's gotta happen now
And something's gotta give
It'll come, it'll come, it'll come, it'll come, it'll come...
(Erik and Raoul come in from the back.)
Erik
Where are the leaders of the land?Where are the swells who run this show? D'you mean like Firmin and André, the swells who run my theater?
Authoress: Yeah, just like that. And now you get a chance to shoot them all!
Erik: And you... you gave me this role?
Authoress: I did indeed.
Erik: Gee, this cancels out one of the stupid roles you gave me... which means... I still hate you.
Authoress: THERE ARE NO STUPID ROLES IN LES MIS. Do you wish to DIE NOW?
Erik: Actually... yes.
Authoress: Then I shall not harm you.
Erik: Crap.
Raoul: AHEM.
Only one man, and that's LamarqueSpeaks for these people here below!
Ensemble
See our children fedHelp us in our shame!
Something for a crust of bread
In Holy Jesus' name!
REVIEWER
In the Lord's Holy name!Ensemble
In His name, in His name, in His name, in His name, in His name...
Raoul
Lamarque is ill and fading fast!Won't last the week out, so they say!
Erik
With all the anger in the land How long before the judgement day?Before we cut the fat divas down to size?
Before the chorus girls arise?
Authoress: Dude... no. Les Mis is so not about Christine.
Erik: I think it is.
Authoress: It isn't.
Erik: Is.
Authoress: Not. Shut up now, or I'll make you uglier.
Erik: Yeah right. That, my dear captor, is not possible. (His left arm falls off.) AUGH! Okay, sorry! This show's not about Christine, whatever! (The arm regrows.)
Raoul: OH MY GOD, MY GOD!
Authoress: Hehe...
(She picks up the other arm and starts waving it around, then drops it into a nearby desk drawer. Raoul's state of horror is increased when the desk begins to shake as the disembodied arm tries to escape.)
Authoress: PIRATES!
(Raoul turns around and runs. He finds Christine and drags her after him.)
Raoul: To the roof! We'll be safe there...
Authoress: Don't GO! ... Very well, now let it be war upon... the Phantom and Christine!
Erik: What? It's supposed to be 'now let it be war upon you both'!
Authoress: What, war on my icklekins? Are you crazy?
Erik: Um... yah.
Authoress: Good point. I NEED A MONTPARNASSE, A MARIUS AND AN EPONINE!
Bahorel: (coming out from the wings) Actually, you could put the robbery scene next chapter and just conclude this one with Gavroche and the poor.
Authoress: Good plan. Just for that, I shall give you this thing I found at Hot Topic! I wouldn't have gone in, cos it's really scary looking, but my friends told me they had Lord of the Rings stuff... so I did. And I saw this and thought of you! (She hands him a box.)
(Bahorel rips off the wrapping paper and pulls out a Legolas throw. He squeals and returns to the abandoned dressing room with the big-screen television.)
Erik: He's just plain odd.
Authoress: Go be Gavroche!
Erik: I won't.
(The Authoress goes to the desk and pulls out the disembodied yet very alive arm. It starts reaching toward Erik, who turns pale... er... and dashes to the front of the stage.)
Erik
Watch out for old ThénardierAll of 'is fam'ly's on the make!
Once ran an 'ash-'ouse down the way!
Bit of a swine, and no mistake!
'E's got a gang
The bleeding layabout
Even 'is daugh'er does her share-Authoress: THAT WOULD BE CHRISTINE, WHO HAS CHOSEN TO GO OFF TO THE ROOF WITH RAOUL, BY THE WAY.
Erik
Tha's Eponine,
She knows 'er way about
Only a kid, but 'ard to scare!
Do we care?
Not a cuss!
Long live us!
Long live us!
Ensemble
Look down and show some mercyIf you can
Look down, look down
Upon your fellow man...
Authoress: And next update I'll do the robbery. Raoul and Christine are probably All-I-Ask-of-You-ing on the roof... Wait... NOOO! RAOUL, MY LOVE! (She starts to run to the roof, then stops and turns to Erik.) Can I borrow a big swooshy cape, a rose, and a mask?
Erik: Um... no.
Authoress: Curse you. You will pay. (Runs off to the roof.)
Erik: And... here we are again.
Chauvelin: WHERE AM I?