Gay Paris

A Miserable Spoof of "Miss Saigon"

Author's Note: This here is my penance to the shade of Victor Hugo. No offense is meant to ANYone -- and if any is taken, darlings, I've been punished enough by my muse forcing me to write this foolishness ;) Mark is Enjolras. All other in-jokes are nonintrusive. --Manon

(Scene: the Cafe Musain on AnkhMUSH, June 1832, and very late at night in 2000.  
LES AMIS are milling around, complaining about their typists, the ROLEPLAYERS, 
who look on in amusement; off in the corner are the shades of VICTOR HUGO, 
ALAIN BOUBLIL and CLAUDE-MICHEL SCHONBERG, shaking their heads in anticipation 
of the havoc about to be wreaked.)

The heat is on in Paris
We want a barricade scene
If they had their way, we'd get off scot-free--
God, the tension is high, must be all the caffeine

The heat is on in Paris

ABBY: (on her sixth Coke)
Look boys, are you mocking me?

LES AMIS: (with great sarcasm)
We wouldn't do that, cherie.

(a ROLEPLAYER, Claudette, eyes ENJOLRAS speculatively)

What are you plotting now, Claude?

Don't look at me like I'm odd.
You ought to learn to have fun
since the end is so near

Don't start that nonsense again, girl,
I don't want to hear...

The heat is on in Paris
and honey, listen to me,
we're going to find you a friend

Let's just skip to the end!

(LES AMIS collectively throw up their hands and storm away from the 
ROLEPLAYERS to complain)

See how I'm slandered? Creators, I'm hurt!

I wasn't written to be such a flirt!

Give them an inch, and they treat you like dirt--

I'll tell you, at least it's not Martin Guerre...

They'd set me up with Prouvaire!

Don't talk to us about fair!
The heat is on in Paris

Don't tell me I'm next in line, I'll hold my breath and turn blue
You must be out of your minds, and my character too!

This is an outrage, I have to object
He's just a friend that I sort of protect
Sharing a flat doesn't mean that we necked
much less that -- Stop snickering, everyone!

Don't be theatrical, hon
You know you're both having fun

It's a sad day for Paris
Why can't they just play it straight, it was worked out long ago
What's wrong with dying for France? You tell me, I don't know

(ABBY has been having an argument with GRANTAIRE, who now speaks up)

I'm twenty-six, and for half of my life
Wenches like this one have given me strife.
I'd rather - *that* - than wind up with a wife
but God knows
I wouldn't choose it, I swear
This is us not going there

ENJOLRAS: (in sudden horrified comprehension)
Laura, my God, don't you dare!

Lamarque is destined to die
Is it a week or a day, I'm not sure of the date

Life is too short now to wait, so you might as well try

Tonight I bet that one of us will be done for
Let's hope it's one of us that it will be fun for
Prouvaire or Combeferre, Bossuet or Joly 

(all of whom protest and attempt to hide)

Every man for himself in this screwy Paris

(LAURA is still determined to pair ENJOLRAS off with someone)

Renee?  Jeanne?  Feuilly?  Grantaire?  Claude? 

(Both ENJOLRAS and CLAUDE attack her in outrage, and have to be restrained 
by other TYPISTS)

Okay, okay, I know,
Girls are yucky.

(She scoots off to consult with ABBY and CLAUDETTE. In a stage whisper:)

Very well. By popular demand,
Grantaire is elected Mark's Significant Other!

Do I *have* to?

(ABBY drags him off to have a talk with him. LES AMIS watch in trepidation)

The heat is on in Paris
And things are not going well
But now it's midnight, we have to agree
These chicks can all go to hell

Boys! Don't start with me.

Don't start with YOU! You killed me off!

(The scene degenerates into a free-for-all, which is not broken up for about 
the length of time it takes to listen to "Movie In My Mind" :))

(Meanwhile, ABBY has talked... ahem... "sense" into GRANTAIRE, without over-much 
difficulty, and has gone off to inform LAURA of this new development. LAURA 
talks to ENJOLRAS)

See now, Apollo, I know best.
I type for you before the rest.
You know Grantaire is stuck on you
You have a talk, and then--

*Oh* no.

LAURA: (coaxing)
Have a drink.
You'll have fun.

ENJOLRAS: (dithering)
I've got this
speech to make...

LAURA: (exasperated)
You said you wanted to play. 
You said you'd listen at last. 
You'd better prove it, and fast.

(she drags him over to where GRANTAIRE is sitting. GRANTAIRE pours him a 
drink without comment. None of les Amis plays the saxophone, so they sit there 
in deathly quiet for a long time.)



ABBY: (under her breath)
Come *on*, guys, that doesn't even scan right.

(LAURA comes over)

What's going on?
You don't like him?

You know I do.

I think I'm screwed.

Take him away

Away to WHERE?

It'll be fine
just come with me.

(He takes ENJOLRAS home. Later, in the middle of the night and God only knows 
what time in real life:)

Why can't a man ever get a break?
Why is Grantaire being so damned nice?
Why do this to me, for goodness' sake?
How do I know he won't give me lice?
You don't give favors, it would seem
Just romance till I'd like to scream

Why, girls, must I fall?
I don't like him, not at all
It's hard enough just being me,
why add insult to injury?

Who is the man in this messy bed?
Why is he here in my private room?
How can I write with this aching head?
Why am I played by a raving loon?
all three of you, and no offence,
but why can't ANYTHING make sense?

Why, girls?  This is wrong,
down to singing this damned song!


And that's another thing. Do I LOOK like a nasty, whiny, frivolous American?


I don't like girls, and guys are worse
At least you could have asked me first.

Why me?  What's your game?
I can't stand him, in God's name!
I liked my love life left alone
Why can't you leave me on my own?

	When I did this before
	you promised me nevermore
	would you tell me to be
	the way Victor never scripted me

	Started over again,
	things were looking good, then
	you take it into your head
	to put me and this damned fool to bed

Oh, c'mon, Mark.

	...though since you ask me, I confess
	It was a pleasant evening, yes...
	That still doesn't mean all this is not a mess!

(LAURA, ABBY and CLAUDETTE exchange glances. With redoubled passion)

Why, girls?  Why this jerk?
Why this drunk who likes to lurk?
I liked my love life on the shelf
Why can't you let me be myself?--

...just deal!

(ENJOLRAS has no answer for this, so all is suddenly quiet.  Which, naturally, 
wakes up GRANTAIRE.)

This jacket's yours
Please put it on.

(GRANTAIRE doesn't move.)

--What more do you want?!

GRANTAIRE: (uncharacteristically mild)
I told you, I don't want anything.

ENJOLRAS: (suspicious)
Now what's wrong with you?

I've not done this before.

ENJOLRAS: (amid hoots from the GIRLS)
Oh, *right*.
I'll believe THAT!

GRANTAIRE: (defensive)
...not with a guy.

Well neither have I!
I just want to get out of here...

You live here.

Oh, that's right.

(making a great concession, under LAURA's watchful eye)

...All right, you're not that bad.
But I don't know who you are

GRANTAIRE: (much amused)
Do you want one more tale of a character's woes?
Want to know all the stories they've saddled me with?
Do you want to be told all the ways I've been warped?

(accusing look at ABBY)

Want to hear I was married to Pontmercy's girl?
How my parents abused me six ways from next week?
How my sweet baby sister expired in my arms?...


	I could go on. (ENJOLRAS makes a face.)


I have seen my share of angst
Hugo's far from sacrosanct
This is not that bad.

Yeah, Mark, it could have been Joly.

(ENJOLRAS jumps and shudders as though she had said "Ni!")

[There may be more someday. The Lord only knows.]

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