Note: For anyone who's wondering, this is the synopsis of the stage version and not the movie. Also, don't bother complaining that this is a musical and not an opera, because For anyone who's wondering, this is the synopsis of the stage version and not the movie. Also, don't bother complaining that this is a musical and not an opera, because a precedent for this sort of thing has already been set.]



Les Misérables

Part III) A musical in two acts ( Part II



Music: Claude-Michel Schönberg

Lyrics: Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel

Book: Claude-Michel Schönberg and Alain Boublil



Based on Victor Hugo's 1862 novel of the same name.





[Act I: The show opens on a chain gang in Toulon in 1815, doing... whatever it is that chain gangs do.]





The Prisoners: BREAKING ROCKS IN THE – HOT SUN

WE FOUGHT THE LAW AND THE – LAW WON





Claude-Michel Schönberg: Wrong kind of chain gang, guys.





The Prisoners: IIIIIII AM A MAAAAAN OF CONSTANT SORROOOW

I SEEN TROOOOUBLE ALL MY DAAAAAYS





Alain Boublil: Still not right.





The Prisoners: LOOK DOWN, LOOK DOWN

OR YOU MIGHT STUB YOUR TOE

LOOK DOWN, LOOK DOWN

AND THAT WOULD SUCK, YOU KNOW





Schönberg: Better.





Random Prisoner: OH JESUS THIS IS THE WORST TORTURE EVER





Jesus: No sympathy. Talk to me again when you've been scourged and crucified.





Random Prisoner: Dammit.





Edmond Dantès: Man, I can't wait to get free and return to my beloved Merc é d è s!





Mercédès: Yeeeah, about that. I married your best friend and now we've got a kid. Sorry!





Edmond Dantès: FUCK





Victor Hugo: OH COME ON THAT'S NOT EVEN THE RIGHT NOVEL





Alexandre Dumas: You're just jealous 'cause my story's cooler than yours.





Victor Hugo: You shut your whore mouth, Dumas. I will cut you.





Me: Though it does raise the question of why no one has turned The Count of Monte Cristo into an opera yet.





Philip Glass: I'll do it!





Me: No one's talking to you.





Philip Glass: :(





Sch ö nberg: WOULD EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP SO WE CAN GET ON WITH THE SHOW





Everyone: Fiiiiiine.





[Enter Inspector Javert, an eternally grumpy policeman who sees the world in black-and-white terms and says stupid shit like “I am the law.” Come to think of it, he's pretty much the Judge Dredd of 19 th century France.]





Half of my Readers: Either that or Judge Dredd is the Javert of the future.





Me: You know what I mean. Shut up.





The Other Half of my Readers: Who's Judge Dredd?





Javert: SOMEONE BRING ME PRISONER TWENTY-FOUR-THOUSAND-SIX-HUNDRED-AND-ONE





Boublil: … you're supposed to say the numbers individually.





Javert: Oh. TWO-FOUR-SIX-OH-ONE





Javert's Fangirls: [swoon]





[Jean Valjean approaches Javert, looking all haggard and dirty and shit.]





Javert: IT IS TIME FOR YOUR PAROLE





Valjean: YAAAAY I'M FREE





Javert: YOU'RE NOT FREE YOU'RE STILL ON PAROLE AND STUFF SO YOU MUST ALWAYS WEAR THIS SIGN THAT SAYS “I AM AN EVIL EX-CONVICT”





Valjean: That's stupid and so are you. I only stole a loaf of bread to feed my sister's family.





Javert: THAT MAKES YOU A THIEF AND THIEVES ARE SERVANTS OF THE DEVIL





Valjean: What about Robin Hood? He stole shit all the time, and I'm pretty sure no one thinks he was a servant of the devil.





Javert: He was English. That's even worse.





Valjean: Whatever. Nineteen years of hard labor seems like an excessive punishment for a single loaf of bread.





Javert: Hey, now. It was just gonna be five years, but then you tried to run away like a total pussy a bunch of times. You brought the other fourteen years on yourself, 24601.





Valjean: [à la 007] The name's Jean. Val jean.





Javert: Yeah, I don't care. Just make sure you remember my name, because in the event that you do something stupid – like, say, breaking your parole and assuming a new identity – I will pretty much shirk all of my other responsibilities and hunt you even to the ends of the earth.





Valjean: That sounds like a waste of time and effort.





Javert: Yeah well I AM THE LAAAAAW





Valjean: Oookay. You have fun with that.





[He leaves.]





The Prisoners: LOOK UP, LOOK UP

THE SCENE'S ABOUT TO CHANGE

LOOK UP, LOOK UP

CHECK OUT OUR TURNING STAGE





The Audience: whooooaaaaa





[Valjean walks in place while the stage rotates beneath his feet. The moving set is arguably the most worthwhile part of the show.]





Half of my Readers: YOU TAKE THAT BACK





Me: Look, I thought this was a really awesome musical back in high school – but these days, I want to hear more than five constantly recycled melodies if I'm gonna be sitting in a theater for three hours.





Half of my Readers: grumble grumble





Valjean: It's so great to be free! I feel like I'm walking through a whole new world and seeing everything from a new fantastic point of view!





Walt Disney: Hey. I will fuck your shit up .





Valjean: In any case, I'm completely positive that life is going to be awesome from this point on!





[Montage of Valjean's Life Sucking: GO!]





Random Farmer: I'm not going to pay you as much as my other day-laborers because you're a convict and also because fuck you.





Innkeeper: Also also, we've got no room at the inn for pieces of shit like you. You'll have to sleep in the stable.





Schönberg: Christ metaphor!





The Audience: Is that intentional?





Boublil: I mean, he pretty much dies for everyone's sins at the end of the show.





Me: SPOILER ALERT





Boublil: We were even gonna change his name to Jesus Valjesus, but we thought that might be too obvious.





The Audience: Because subtlety is totally your strong point.





Schönberg: We're glad you noticed!





[But just when Valjean seems to be on the verge of total despair...]





Valjean: FUCK MY LIFE AND EVERYONE ELSE TOO





[… he meets the Bishop of Digne, who is probably the only truly virtuous member of the clergy in the entire history of French literature.]





The Bishop: Hello, Monsieur Complete-Stranger! You look tired and hungry!





Valjean: You think?





The Bishop: Come inside! We've got plenty of food and warm beds in the rectory.





Valjean: Thanks! I promise you won't regret this! By the way, do you mind showing me the exact location of all of your valuables?





The Bishop: Sure!





[Valjean goes inside, where the bishop gives him food and drink. Valjean waits until the bishop is asleep, and then promptly steals all of the bishop's shit.]





The Audience: You're a douche.





Valjean: Hey! I was sentenced to hard labor for nineteen years of my life , so ex cuuuse me if the experience has left me bitter and broken!





The Audience: Yeah, but... stealing from the one person who treats you like a human being? Not cool, man.





Valjean: Nineteen fucking years!





The Audience: You're still a douche.





Valjean: Whatever. I'm gonna go sell this stuff and buy a bunch of cocaine and hookers.





[He attempts to run away, but is promptly caught by some police officers.]





The Police Officers: What's in the bag, sir?





Valjean: DEFINITELY NOTHING STOLEN





The Police Officers: You do realize you just gave us probable cause to search you, right?





Valjean: Fuuuuuck.





[They find the stolen silverware and drag him back to the Bishop of Digne.]





The Police Officers: We found the guy who stole all your shit, Your Excellency. And he had the nerve to claim it was a gift from you!





The Bishop: It totally was. I gave it to him of my own free will!





The Audience: Isn't lying a sin?





The Bishop: Shut up. [to Valjean] But you were in such a hurry to leave that you forgot to take my candlesticks! They're hella valuable.





Valjean: Uh... thanks?





The Bishop: So as you can see, officers, there's been no crime committed here. But thanks for being so vigilant!





[The police leave.]





Valjean: … what just happened?





The Bishop: What just happened is I saved your life, so now you owe me. Big time.





Valjean: This isn't going to turn into some weird sex thing, is it?





The Bishop: Hell no. Here's the deal: since I pretty much just bankrupted my parish to help you out – even though you were a complete stranger who fucked me over and gave me every reason not to trust you or give you any sort of aid whatsoever – you're in some serious karmic debt that can only be repaid by using this money to become someone who's not a complete asshole . Got it?





Valjean: Wow. I don't know what to say.





The Bishop: “Thank you” would be nice.





Valjean: I feel... strange. Like an invisible weight has suddenly been placed on my shoulders.





The Bishop: That's Catholic guilt. Welcome to the rest of your life!





[The Bishop leaves. Valjean proceeds to have a complete mental breakdown.]





Valjean: shit piss balls hell ass tits fuckmothering whore





The Audience: Wow.





Schönberg: He has a lot of feelings right now.





Valjean: THAT OLD PRIESTY ASSHOLE DOESN'T KNOW ME OR WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH SO FUCK HIM but maybe he's right, I mean I was kind of being a dick BUT THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS AFTER NINETEEN YEARS OF HARD LABOR but he was really nice to me and maybe I should be nice to other people from now on too EXCEPT DAMMIT NOW I FEEL ALL ASHAMED AND CATHOLIC AND STUFF but I guess now that I'm rich I could just create a new identity and forget that Jean Valjean ever existed!





Victor Hugo: It's almost cute how you think that's gonna happen.





[He tears up the paper identifying him as a criminal. Fast-forward to 1823! Valjean is now the owner of a factory in Montreuil-sur-Mer, as well as being the fucking mayor because he's just that badass. He's not doing a great job at mayoring, though, because his town is overrun with the worst kind of vermin imaginable: poor people.]





Poor People: AT THE END OF THE DAY YOU'RE ANOTHER DAY OLDER





The Audience: Yeah, and every hour makes you another hour older. That's pretty fucking self-evident.





Poor People: AT THE END OF THE NIGHT IT'S THE START OF THE MORNING





The Audience: Also self-evident. Any other pearls of wisdom to dispense?





Poor People: AT THE END OF A MEAL YOU DON'T HAVE ANY FOOD LEFT





The Audience: At the end of the show, we're not going to clap when you bow.





Poor People: Rude.





The Audience: So is there any point to this scene, other than you guys saying a bunch of obvious shit and trying to make it sound meaningful?





Poor People: Mostly we're just around to illustrate the dissatisfaction of the common man with the state of affairs at this point in French history.





The Audience: Hooray.





[The factory workers enter with their foreman. One of the workers is a young woman named Fantine – you can recognize her by the aura of pure, heavenly light which surrounds her at all times.]





The Foreman: AT THE END OF THE DAY I WANT SOMEONE TO BONE ME





The Factory Workers: Man, wouldn't it be nice if there were laws prohibiting sexual harassment in the workplace?





The Foreman: Quiet! There's no talking in the factory, unless you're being super bitchy about one of your co-workers.





Random Woman: Maybe the foreman would be in a better mood if Fantine would stop being such a fucking prude and start putting out.





The Foreman: Better.





The Factory Workers: EVEN THOUGH WE HAVE JOBS WE ARE ALSO DISSATISFIED WITH THE CURRENT ECONOMIC CLIMATE





Random Woman: HEY FANTINE ARE YOU READING A LETTER LET ME SEE





Fantine: NO





[Random Woman takes the letter anyway and starts reading it.]





Random Woman: OH SHIT FANTINE HAS A BASTARD CHILD





The Factory Workers: ohhhhh snap





Random Woman: I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE A SLUTTY SLUT SLUT





Fantine: I'M NOT A SLUT YOU'RE A SLUT SO SHUT UP AND GIVE ME MY LETTER BACK





Random Woman: NNNNOPE





[Fantine bitch-slaps Random Woman. The two of them start fighting. Valjean enters.]





Valjean: WHAT THE HELL IS ALL THIS COMMOTION AND DID I MENTION I'M THE OWNER OF THIS FACTORY AND ALSO THE MAYOR





The Factory Workers: We know who you are, Mayor Definitely-Not-A-Parole-Violator.





Valjean: It's pronounced “Violateur.” [to the foreman] Sort this mess out, would you? I know you'll handle the matter with fairness and discretion, because I'm an excellent judge of character when it comes to the people I employ.





The Foreman: Oh, totally.





[Valjean leaves.]





The Foreman: Sooo... what happened here?





Random Woman: [pointing to Fantine] She hit me in the face and also she has a secret love-child that she's sending money to!





The Foreman: You have a child out of wedlock, but you haven't yielded to my gross sexual advances?





Fantine: It's because I have this thing called “self-respect.”





The Foreman: That's awesome. You'll have to tell me all about that some other time because YOU'RE FIRED.





Fantine: Wait, what? What happened to fairness and discretion?





The Foreman: [shrug] Meh.





Fantine: Well, fine! You can take my job, but you'll never be able to take away my dignity!





[Two minutes later:]





Fantine the Prostitute: WHO WANTS TO HAVE SEX WITH ME FOR MONEY





[But some other stuff happens first.]





Fantine: I had this really weird dream last night, you guys.





The Audience: Really? Do tell.





Fantine: Yeah, it was mostly about my life being awesome and not even remotely terrible and meeting my true love and getting married and having babies and being together forever. But then a bunch of tigers showed up and they started eating me and destroying my life and I'm pretty sure they were just some sort of bizarre metaphor for my baby-daddy.





The Audience: … huh.





Fantine: Oh, and by the way, I've decided to give in to crushing despair.





The Audience: Sounds like a plan!





[She wanders down to the docks, which are littered with whores and horny sailors.]





The Whores: LOVELY LADIES, WAITING FOR A BITE





The Sailors: … your use of the word “bite” doesn't exactly inspire confidence in the quality of your blowjobs.





The Whores: It's a figure of speech. Most of us don't even have any teeth to speak of.





The Sailors: Confidence re-inspired!





Fantine: Anyone want to buy a locket?





Some Old Woman: Sure!





Fantine: Aaaand now I have nothing else to sell.





A Different Old Woman: I'll pay you for your pretty hair!





Fantine: That's creepy and so are you.





A Different Old Woman: Ten francs.





Fantine: LET'S GO GET SOME SCISSORS





[Fantine and the old woman exit.]





The Whores: HEY SISTER, GO SISTER

SOUL SISTER, FLOW SISTER





[Fantine re-enters, minus her hair.]





A Pimp: Hey, who's that?





A Whore: Oh, no one. Just some random woman who's desperate to earn enough money to keep her daughter alive.





A Pimp: … desperate, eh?





The Whores: HEY THIS IS A REALLY EASY WAY TO MAKE SOME MONEY





Fantine: Sign me up!





[And so Fantine becomes a prostitute.]





The Whores: HEY SISTER, SOUL SISTER

BETTER GET THAT DOUGH, SISTER





Fantine: You know, this isn't actually that bad. Well, except for the whole “being dead on the inside” part.





[A fancy gentleman by the name of Bamatabois shows up, looking for a little action.]





Bamatabois: Hey, I don't recognize you. How much?





Fantine: Not interested. You look like a douche.





Bamatabois: What the – THAT'S NOT HOW THIS IS SUPPOSED TO WORK YOU LITTLE SLUT





Fantine: FUCK OFF





[She bitch-slaps him, because that's apparently how she deals with all of her problems.]





The Audience: … did you not learn your lesson the first time?





Fantine: Pattern recognition is not my strong suit.





The Audience: We noticed.





Bamatabois: HOW DARE YOU STRIKE ME





Fantine: Yeah... sorry about that.





Bamatabois: I SHALL SEE YOU THROWN IN PRISON





[Enter Inspector Javert, because of course he's there. He's accompanied by a couple constables.]





Javert: I AM THE LAAAAAAWWWW





Bamatabois: Inspector! I was just minding my own business when this crazy whore attacked me for no reason!





Javert: Hmm... you appear to have money, so it's clear that you're a virtuous man and that I can trust you to tell the truth.





Bamatabois: Totally.





[A crowd begins to gather and watch the drama unfold. ]





Javert: Officers! Place this woman under arrest at once!





Fantine: PLEASE DON'T ARREST ME I HAVE A DAUGHTER AND SHE'LL DIE WITHOUT ME





Javert: Save your stories, foul temptress; I've heard them all before. “I have a daughter!” “I only stole that bread to feed my sister's family!” “I was framed!” “You just knowingly destroyed the one piece of evidence that could prove my innocence!”





The Audience: … wait, seriously?





Javert: Long story short – I can't trust anything you say because you're a criminal, and I can tell you're a criminal because you're dressed in rags and you have the haircut of a depraved lesbian.





Fantine: NO PLEASE LISTEN TO ME





Javert: TAKE HER AWAY





[All of a sudden, Valjean steps out of the crowd.]





Valjean: Deus ex mayor!





Javert: Aw, dammit.





Valjean: Leave her alone, Javert. I believe her story.





Javert: But Monsieur Mayor –





Valjean: I don't want to hear it. She needs our help.





Fantine: YEAH YOU REALLY HELPED ME OUT WHEN YOU LET YOUR FOREMAN FIRE ME





Valjean: … that was you?





Fantine: YUUUUUP





Valjean: Well, shit.





The Audience: Dooooouche.





Valjean: Shut up. [to Fantine] Don't worry! We'll get you to a hospital right away!





The Audience: Why exactly does she need to be in a hospital? She's been a whore for like... two days. Or maybe more. It's really hard to judge the passing of time in this show, by the way.





Boublil: She contracted super-fast-acting syphilis or something.





Fantine: cough cough oh I'm so sick all of a sudden





Boublil: See? There you go.





Fantine: Also, could you find my daughter and bring her to me?





Valjean: Sure thing!





Javert: But –





Valjean: No buts, Javert.





Javert: I haven't arrested anyone in almost a week! I need my fix!





Valjean: Calm your tits. I'm sure you'll find a jaywalker to harass or something.





[There is a loud crash.]





The Crowd: OH SHIT SOME POOR BASTARD JUST GOT TRAPPED UNDER A CART





Valjean: Stand aside, citizens!





[Valjean hulks out and lifts the cart, freeing the man trapped underneath.]





Fauchelevant: THANK YOU FOR SAVING ME YOU'RE LIKE SOME SORT OF CHRIST FIGURE OR SOMETHING





Valjean: I do my best.





The Crowd: YAAAAY WE HAVE THE COOLEST MAYOR EVER





Javert: You know, Monsieur Definitely-Not-A-Parole-Violateur, your display of freakish strength reminds me of a man that I once swore to hunt to the ends of the earth.





Valjean: Even though this man of whom you speak sounds pretty badass and also very handsome, I'm not sure I like what you're implying.





Javert: My apologies, monsieur. The only other person I've seen do something like that is a man named Jean Valjean, but you can't be him because we just found and arrested him!





Valjean: Wait, you did whatnow?





Javert: We caught Jean Valjean! He's going to spend the rest of his miserable life back in the chain gang.





Valjean: I'm just gonna go out on a limb and guess that he's denying everything...?





Javert: Yeah, but criminals do that. Anywho, have fun with that whore you rescued! I'm just going to go condemn this guy to a life of slavery and back-breaking labor. Hey, wouldn't it be awkward if we had the wrong guy for some reason? I bet the real Valjean would feel super guilty about letting an innocent man take his place.





Valjean: Yeah, that sounds like it would be totally terrible for that “Valjean” guy I've never met and know nothing about.





Javert: I'm sure his conscience would torture him for the rest of his life. It might even be worse than the chain gang.





Valjean: YES THANK YOU JAVERT YOU CAN LEAVE NOW





[Javert leaves and the crowd disperses, leaving Valjean alone onstage.]





Valjean: … god damm it.





The Audience: Yuuuup.





Valjean: On the one hand, I could let a complete stranger be convicted and punished for my crimes and I'd never have to be afraid of being caught ever again – but I'd have to live with the knowledge that I sent an innocent man to his death. One the other hand, I could abandon my workers and my constituents, all of whom rely on me in one way or another, and confess that I'm Jean Valjean – but at least I wouldn't be screwing anyone over. Well, except for all those people that I'd leave unemployed, but fuck those guys. They're not even named characters!





The Audience: Your moral logic is impeccable.





Valjean: All that matters is that I take care of Fantine, because she's a beautiful, unique snowflake and this show's representation of everything pure and good in the world! Which I guess is kinda weird, considering that she's a prostitute with a bastard child who frequently resorts to violence to solve her problems.





The Audience: YOU SHUT UP FANTINE IS PERFECT





Valjean: Long story short – even if it royally fucks my life up, I can't just let some other guy take my punishment.





[And suddenly he's in court, because that makes sense.]





Valjean: Who am I? I'M TWO-FOUR-SIX-OH-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE





[He tears open his shirt, partly to show off his sweet prison tats, but mostly because he has PECS OF STEEL.]





Everybody: OH SHIT





[And then Valjean runs away before anyone can arrest him. The scene changes to a hospital, where Fantine is dying because reasons.]





Fantine: cough cough I'm so sick y'all





The Audience: Apparently.





Fantine: [hallucinating] COSETTE IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO GO TO BED AND ALSO I'M DYING AND STUFF





[Valjean enters.]





Valjean: How are you feeling?





Fantine: Look at all the lonely people!





Valjean: What?





Fantine: Where do they all come from? Where do they all belong?





Valjean: Ooookay. You're clearly feverish and crazy.





Fantine: a blee blee bloo blah





Valjean: Hush, my darling prostitute. Sleep the sweet sleep of death.





Fantine: WAIT WHAT ABOUT COSETTE





Valjean: I'll adopt her and raise her as my own daughter!





Fantine: yaaaaaay





Valjean: And I promise to be an overbearing and unnecessarily protective father!





Fantine: booooo





Valjean: Oh, just shut up and die already.





Fantine: … 'kay.





[She dies. Enter Javert!]





The Audience: He might be an asshole, but at least he has impeccable timing.





Javert: WHAT'S UP FUCKER





Valjean: This really isn't a good time, Javert.





Javert: IT'S GO TIME





Valjean: I have to adopt and raise a child first, but I promise you can re-arrest me in ten years or so!





Javert: You have got to be shitting me.





Valjean: Nope, sorry.





Javert: Do you think I'm an idiot?





Valjean: You don't want me to answer that question, do you.





Javert: I WILL NEVER LET YOU GO BECAUSE YOU ARE A CRIMINAL AND I AM THE LAW AND I MUST VANQUISH YOU WITH MY RIGHTEOUS FURY





Valjean: GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY JAVERT





[Valjean breaks the leg off of a chair and bonks Javert on the head. Javert falls over and Valjean escapes.]





The Audience: Well, that was anticlimactic.





[The scene changes to an inn in Montfermeil owned by the Thénardiers, the wacky comic relief characters who are taking care of Cosette. And by that, I mean “using Cosette as unpaid child labor.” She's sweeping the floor and singing in a tremulous, waif-ish voice.]





Cosette: Tra la laaaa I like to dream about castles and clouds and ladies dressed in whiiiiite





The Audience: Weird dreams must run in the family.





Cosette: And in my cloud castle, no one is allowed to cry. Ever. Or else.





The Audience: You're creepy. Didn't we see you in a Japanese horror movie or something?





Cosette: OH NO I HEAR MADAME THÉNARDIER COMING BACK AND I'M NOT DONE WITH MY CHORES YET





[Mme. Thénardier enters with her daughter, Éponine.]





Mme. Thénardier: WHAT THE FUCK COSETTE AREN'T YOU DONE YET





The Audience: Child labor. You get what you pay for.





Mme. Thénardier: GO INTO THE DARK SCARY WOODS AND GET SOME WATER FROM THE WELL





Cosette: But I don't wannaaaaaaa





Mme. Thénardier: WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID AND AWFUL WHY CAN'T YOU BE PRETTY AND AWESOME LIKE MY DAUGHTER





Cosette: PLEASE DON'T SEND ME OUT ALONE INTO THE WOODS





Mme. Thénardier: WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE





Cosette: [whimper]





Éponine: GTFO





[Cosette scurries out as Monsieur Thénardier enters. The inn's evening customers begin to arrive.]





The Customers: BRING US SOMETHING TO DRINK





Thénardier: OKAY SURE you fucking scumbags.





Schönberg: IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE WHAT HE SAYS AND WHAT HE ACTUALLY THINKS ARE DIFFERENT





The Audience: … yeah, thanks.





The Customers: We love coming here because it's such a dive and Thénardier is an untrustworthy piece of shit who has been known to literally rob corpses!





The Audience: That's not a good reason to frequent a place of business.





Thénardier: But I love them because they keep giving me their money!





The Customers: THE FOOD TASTES LIKE SHIT AND THE WINE TASTES LIKE PISS





The Audience: SO WHY DO YOU KEEP COMING HERE





[A new customer comes in, and is greeted enthusiastically by Thénardier.]





Thénardier: BONJOUR PLEASE COME IN AND HAVE A SEAT IN THE MOST REPUTABLE ESTABLISHMENT IN TOWN





New Customer: Sounds trustworthy!





Thénardier: MASTER OF MY DOMAIN, KING OF THE CASTLE

BLAH BLAH BLAH I'M STEALING ALL YOUR SHIT





The Customers: TRA LA LA LA HE'LL ROB YOU FUCKING BLIND





Thénardier: DON'T LEAVE YOUR BELONGINGS LYING AROUND OR THEY'LL DISAPPEAR AND YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN'T ORDER FOOD OR DRINK HERE BECAUSE IT'S ALL MADE FROM SPOILED INGREDIENTS AND LACED WITH ROHYPNOL





The Customers: YAAAAAAAY





Mme. Thénardier: YOU'RE AN AWFUL HUSBAND BECAUSE YOU'RE OBNOXIOUS AND STUPID AND YOU HAVE A TINY PENIS





The Customers: IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE SHE SAID PENIS





Thénardier: YOU TAKE THAT BACK





Mme. Thénardier: NNNNOPE





Everyone: HOORAY FOR STABLE MARRIAGES AND SHITTY INNS





[Some time passes and the customers file out. Valjean enters with Cosette in tow and confronts the Thénardiers.]





Valjean: I found her wandering alone in the woods!





The Audience: That's kinda creepy.





Valjean: I made a promise to her dead mother to raise her as my own child, so I'm taking her away with me and I'll pay you to let her go.





The Audience: And that's really creepy. You're literally trying to buy a little girl right now.





The Thénardiers: You'll pay us, huh?





Valjean: Yuuup. How much for the little girl?





The Thénardiers: BUT WE LOVE COSETTE SO MUCH AND SHE'S SO DEAR TO US





Valjean: SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY





[He pays them.]





The Thénardiers: That's all well and good, but she was always sick and we had to buy medicine and food and stuff and Fantine never really sent us that much money.





Valjean: Look, here's fifteen hundred francs. I'm taking Cosette now and you assholes can go to hell.





The Thénardiers: WOOOO





[Valjean and Cosette leave the inn.]





Valjean: Hi, Cosette! I'm your new daddy!





Cosette: Yay! Are we going to move into a new house?





Valjean: We are!





Cosette: And will I finally be allowed to play outside with the other children?





Valjean: Hell no. I'm literally never letting you out of my sight.





Cosette: :(





[End of Act I.]





The Audience: Thank god. We've had to piss for the last half hour.





[Just kidding. Act I is only half over.]



