More Miserables!

NOTE: It's not often that I crack myself up (or others, for that matter) but for some reason, the idea of a comic sequel to Les Miserables just struck me as funny. I started this about 5 years ago, spent 20 inspired minutes writing it, then never continued. If you haven't read the book, or at least seen the play, don't bother reading any further, as I didn't even attempt to make it stand alone.

"At last, Cosette, you're Marius has returned. 

Sorry I'm late,I hope dinner hasn't burned"

            "Enough with the singing already!" complains Cosette.  "Why can't we ever just talk, like normal people? 

            "And what do these normal people talk about?" Marius inquires.

            "Oh, I don't know," says Cosette, placing her finger on her chin in an overtly dramatic pose of concerned thought.  "People talk about taxes, the news, weather...or where you've been all night!" she exclaims. "It's well past seven!"

            "Oh, you know," explains Marius, "I met some friends down at Thernardier's and we had a few brandies..."

            "Don't give me that!" says Cosette, harshly throwing a basket of bread down on the table.  "We both know all your friends were killed in the Revolution...remember?  All that 'empty chairs at empty tables' business you whined about for months?  Ring a bell?"

            "I should ring a bell for each of their souls, the way you disparage them!  How can you accuse me of forgetting?  I think about them every day. Poor Enjolras. Little Gavroche. Sometimes I wish I were among them."

            "So do I!" says Cosette, before realizing the gravity of her statement.

            "What was that, Dear?" asks Marius. "Do you wish me dead?  Do you long to see me carted off on the funeral wagon?  Do you like to imagine what a gloriously beautiful widow you would make?  Would you like me..."

            "I would just like you home once and a while!" she blurts out, breaking into tears. "I don't really want you dead.  It's just that...just that...sometimes, it's like...the Marius I knew and loved is dead..." she breaks off, wiping away tears with the back of her hand.

            "And as for me?" asks Marius.  "The man who stands before you now, your husband?  Are you saying you do not love me?"

            "It's like I don't even know you.  You never tell me where you’re going, or where you've been..."

            "Well excusez moi if I can't live up to the saintly virtues of Jean Valjean!"

            "Who said anything about..." interrupts Cosette.

            "You don't have to say it. He is always here!  Watching me like the gargoyles of Notre Dame.  Pulling on me like the tides of Mont St. Michel.  Choking me like a stale eclair..."

            "Enough!" yells Cosette.  "I will not hear anymore of this.  He saved my life.  He saved your life!  And this is the thanks he gets?  He told me that our wedding day was the happiest day of his life..."

            "Big deal!" interrupts Marius.  "The guy spent twenty years in jail for stealing a loaf of bread!  He spent another twenty running from the law!  He lived his life in fear.  He was alone.  He had no friends.  Nothing.  His life was one trial after another.  And our wedding day was the happiest day of his life!  Of course it was!  It was probably the only day he wasn't beaten or robbed or cheated or chased or swindled or ridi..."

            "I said enough!"  Cosette roars, her face twisted with rage.  "One more word about..."

            A knock at the door interrupts her.  "Come.  Who is it?" calls Marius, looking rather relieved at the interruption.

            "Police!" responds a voice in a terribly obvious, yet failing, attempt to sound commanding.  A poodles bark had more bite.

            "Well come now, what is it?" asks Marius as he opens the door.  "My wife and I were having a simple discussion, that hardly constitutes as a row, don't you have anything better to do with your time than to..."

            "Excuse me sir, " says the policeman, "I am Officer Javert. I need to speak to your wife about her possible involvment in the murder of my father."
             "Murder?" Cosette challenged. "Your father committed suicide. Everyone knows that!"
             "Well we have new evidence that seems to suggest other wise," the officer retorted, drawing himself up to his full height.  "And a witness who is willing to testify that YOU were at the scene!"

Dun, dun, dun...