Disclaimer: Victor Hugo owns these characters.
A/N: I have lost my mind, I think, and have taken a break from my quest to write strange parodies of Eppie- Sues. Forgive the temporary (or so I hope) loss of sanity.
Eponine was terribly distressed, for she had found herself in a hopeless position: she was the unwanted stalker of a law student.
Though stalking a handsome young man is something nearly every teenage girl does, it is hardly a proud pastime, and many a girl, after overcoming their infatuation with their stalkee, ends up frustrated at the time they wasted on said handsome young man.
This, however, comes with the wisdom bestowed by disappointment (should one have the ability to learn from one's mistakes). Eponine had not yet reached that point.
Also, she had not learned much from her mistakes in the past few years. It didn't help that her character was about to undergo a drastic re-write.
But let us leave off the foreshadowing, for, though a useful literary device, it is a bit too sophisticated for a parody. In any case, Eponine was terribly distressed.
Not only was she infatuated with (quite literally) the boy next door, but she was having problems with lice once again. Not to mention the fleas….
Sulking in the stairwell by Monsieur Marius's door proved an itchy business, for the fleas were acting up terribly, and Eponine couldn't sulk, as she wished, in the shadows, patiently staring at Monsieur Marius's door. Instead, she was seated in the middle of the steps, scratching her side. Then, inelegantly, she scratched at her head, muttering obscenities under her breath. Having lice is never much fun, and if you add that to fleas and the normal teen angst multiplied by poverty squared, and then you add some angst due to the fact that Eponine had gone a bit mad from lack of food, sanitary conditions, and heat, bearing in mind that all angst is a Factor Of Life, and, thus, divisible by True Love, you find that, not only are you confused by whatever the author is trying to say in this sentence, but that Eponine was terribly distressed.
This, however, was a fact you were already aware of, being an astute reader who cannot fail to notice something repeated three times in a chapter.
But let us return to our itchy heroine. As she sat and scratched herself, a voice was heard. Contrary to whatever deux ex machina you were expecting (though a highly useful literary device, it is far too sophisticated for a parody), the grating, raspy voice of her father was bellowing. "'Ponine, you lazy slut! Can't you do nothing right? You lost the letters!"
"Did not," Eponine replied, scratching the back of her neck with force. "I returned 'em. You saw. Azelma and I'll deliver them today."
"Best do it, clumsy girl. And wear shoes when you go out. Ain't respectable for a girl to go around barefoot."
'Whatever' is the standard response for these situations; however, the word is not easily translated into French, and it is also an anachronism. Therefore, Eponine did not respond with "Whatever!"
Instead, Eponine grunted, "I hate those shoes. They squish your feet and snow gets in 'em and sloshes around. I won't wear 'em."
"You will if I tell you too!"
Eponine, in the manner any rebellious teen can sympathize with, grumpily stormed up the stars, scratching herself all the while, when she fell into an Improbable Twist of the Plot, by falling through a rotten board in the floor.