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Les Miserables Jokes

        Once Javert bought hashish instead of snuff by mistake. So there he is, sitting in his room stoned off his ass, when someone knocks.

        Javert raises his unseeing eyes to the door.

        "Whos'ere?" he mumbles.

        "Javert, it is I," says Valjean.

        Javert sits there silently for a moment, then another, then another, and finally starts giggling.

        "Naaaaaah, old man, you're crazy. Javert - it is I!"


        Javert is on patrol. He sees Gavroche playing in the mud.
        Javert: "What are you doing, kid?"
        Gavroche: "Making a little cop."
        Javert: "Oh really? And what exactly are you making him from?"
        Gavroche: "Clay and dog poop."

        Javert gets irked and kicks down the little mud figure.

        "If I catch you doing this one more time, you're going straight to juvie."

        The next day Javert is on patrol again and he sees Gavroche in the same spot as before, making another mud figure.
        Javert: "So, what are you making today?"
        Gavroche: "A little student."
        Javert: "And what are you making him from?"
        Gavroche: "Clay."
        Javert (smirking): "Aren't you going to add any dog poop?"
        Gavroche: "Nope. If I do, it'll turn into a COP!"


        Here's a thought experiment. Suppose Javert, Fantine, Cosette, Enjolras, and Grantaire are all riding on a train. The train rides into a tunnel. In the darkness, there is a kissing sound and a loud smack.

        What are the five of them thinking after the train rides out of the tunnel?

        Fantine: Aww, my little girl is all grown-up and has suitors!
        Cosette: Hmm, looks like Maman is still attracting attention in her age, good for her!
        Grantaire: Another tunnel and I'll kiss him again!
        Enjolras: Another tunnel and I'll hit him again!
        Javert: If I get slapped one more time, I'm out of this goddamn compartment!


        Thenadier writes Javert a blackmail letter:

        "I know a few of your terrible and dirty secrets. If you want me to keep quiet about them, send me 1000 francs immediately."

        The next day he gets a reply:

        "These secrets are not all that terrible or dirty. I could send you some truly nasty stuff about myself, and I'd only take 300 francs for it."


        A bourgeois asks a young sergeant de ville on Rue de Pontoise:

        "How many policemen work here?"
        "With Inspector Javert, twenty, Monsieur."
        "I see. And without Inspector Javert?" jokes the bourgeois.
        "Without Inspector Javert, Monsieur," says the young cop, "nobody ever lifts a finger."


        "One should never answer evil with violence," remarked Valjean didactically, as he cut through Javert's ropes on the barricade.

        "You and your moralizing," grumbled Javert, but agreed inwardly: he suddenly imagined how horrible and inventive evil could get after it has been violated...


        Valjean sits in jail and thinks: "The law is a strange thing. They put me here for stealing a loaf of bread, and now they have to give me one every day for free."


        Henri-Joseph Gisquet decides to conduct a character test for his agents.

        The first man enters his office.

        - "Pierre, give me a number from 1 to 99," asks Gisquet.
        - "76."
        - "Must it necessarily be 76?," asks Gisquet. "Couldn't it be 67 instead?"
        - "No, it's 76!"

        Gisquet dismisses the man and writes in his notebook: "Pierre L_______ is a man of stark and confident character."

        The second man enters the office.

        - "Give me a number from 1 to 99."
        - "42."
        - "Perhaps, 24 would be better?"
        - "Yes, you are right. 24 is better."

        Gisquet dismisses him and writes: "Jules T_____ is a man of unreliable, easily swayed character."

        The next man enters.

        - "Give me a number from 1 to 99."
        - "33."
        - "But wouldn't it be better... oh, it's you, Javert."


        Valjean, Enjolras, and Javert find a bottle with a genie on a beach. The genie tells them: "I'm not exactly at my best right now, after being imprisoned for three thousand years. So each of you will get one wish, but only for a week. Then I'll have to take it all back."

        Enjolras wishes to be transported to Russia and the year 1917.

        Valjean wishes to be transported to India and the year 1930.

        And Javert wishes to be transported to New York, year 2000.

        A week later, all three are back on the beach, sharing their experiences and impressions.

        "I stormed the Winter Palace with the hungry and oppressed Russian proletariat," says Enjolras. "I lead my own group of armed workers to battle against Cossacks defending the Provisional Government - to triumph! It was the happiest moment of my life."

        Valjean sighs. "I wish I had longer than a week, though I know it is a sin to be ungrateful. But a week is nothing when you march alongside Ghandi! I never felt so humbled by anyone's spirit. He is truly one of God's own."

        "What can I say," shrugs Javert. "I doubt either of you will be impressed with my vacation. I shot hoops in Brooklyn."

        "But you could have used this opportunity to do something really memorable and interesting! Why waste the time on basketball?" wonders Valjean.

        Javert looks at him with a strange, far-away look.

        "You wouldn't understand."

        "No, please, do explain," pipes up Enjolras. "I'd like to know why an enemy of the people like yourself would voluntarily spend a week in the poorest section of the world's most renowned metropolis."

        Javert sighs.

        "Because on a basketball court in Brooklyn, for the first and only time in my life, I was the *short* *white* guy!"


        A rookie policeman decides to have a dig at the aging, graying wolf of the Paris Second Division - Inspector Javert.

        "May I ask you, dear Monsieur, why is it that you spent all of your career chasing one criminal and still have not caught him?"

        Javert pulls out a pistol.

        "Ask away."


        Valjean rode furiously from Arras in the direction of Montfermeil. And right behind him, Javert ran like a madman, making every effort to look like he was just out for a breath of fresh air.


        Javert had a thought. He decided he liked it, and had another one.


        A black cab halted in from of Number 55, Rue Plumet. From the cab climbed out Javert with 2 other policemen. Javert knocked on the door.

        "Whom are you looking for?"
        "A man by the name of Jean Valjean," answered Javert.
        "I am not at home," answered Valjean from behind the locked door.

        Javert swore, climbed back into the cab, and rode away.

        In this devious way, Valjean has been deceiving the Paris Police for the last three months.


        Javert went to the forest to gather berries and mushrooms, but found nothing, and, disappoited, sat into a snowdrift.


        Javert met a group of people with sticks. "They must be skiers," thought the brilliant detective. "He must be Javert," thought the fishermen.


        Javert and Valjean met on the mainstreet of M.-sur-M. "There goes that dirty scoundrel Valjean," thought Javert. "Yep, there I go," thought Valjean with a sigh.


        On Monday, Javert was captured by rebels and led out to be shot. "This week is not off to a good start," thought Javert.


        Upon arriving to the hospital where Fantine was wheezing her last, Javert stopped in front of the whitewashed door leading to her room and gave it a push. The door did not open. Javert pushed harder. The door didn't budge. Javert kicked the door. Same result. Javert took a running start and slammed his whole body against the door. But the door wouldn't give. "It must be locked," guessed the brilliant detective.


        Javert drew a deep breath and threw himself off the Pont au Change for the fifth time. The poison was still not working.


        Valjean constantly lied to everyone and felt quite bad about it, so he always crossed his fingers. But despite his considerable gardening talents, he never produced a hybrid.


        Javert had not read any books for a long time. Once he picked up an ABCs, but was quickly disillusioned, because he couldn't find in it the letter of the law.


        Little Azelma: "But mooooom, I hate my little brother!"
       Mme. Thenardier: "Shut up and eat what you're given."


        Valjean was a very good gardener. When he was in the monastery, he once put up such a frightening scarecrow that the crows not only stopped stealing strawberries from the garden but also returned last year's harvest.


        Thenardier brings a limping Montparnasse to a surgeon.

        Thenardier: "Doctor, please help my son-in-law! I just shot him through the leg!"

        Doctor: "That's not a very nice thing to do to your son-in-law..."

        Thenardier: "Well, doctor, at the time when I was shooting at him he hadn't agreed to be my son-in-law yet!"


        Toulon. 1801. Summer. Dog days.

        Roll call. Javert, a young guard famous for his violent mood swings, walks slowly along the rows of sweaty, bearded prisoners stretched at "attention" and periodically barks at some of them.

        Javert: "Cochepaille! What's two times two?"
        Cochepaille: "I don't know, sir."


        Javert: "I hate fools. Chenildieu, what's two times two?"
        Chenildieu: "Go to hell."


        Javert: "I hate boors. Brevet, what's two times two?"
        Brevet: "How much do you need, Chief?"


        Javert: "I hate toadies. Valjean, what's two times two?"


        Valjean: "I hate nosy-Nellies."


        On his way out of Corinthe, Laigle is detained by the police.

        Javert (who else?): "Your documents, if you please. Hmmm... Interesting. Not working for a living, are we?"
        Laigle: "Yes, monsieur."

        Javert: "Wasting government money are we?"
        Laigle: "Oh yes, monsieur."

        Javert: "Loitering and dillydallying are we?"
        Laigle: "Quite so, monsieur."

        Javert: "Ssssso. Law student, are we?"
        Laigle: "Well, no, monsieur. Of the two of us, only I am a student."


        France, provincial backwaters of Jura.

        An entire town cannot sleep at night, because of the frogs croaking like mad in the nearby pond. Stones and sticks are hurled into the murky water, but within minutes the ranine chorus resumes at previous pitch and intensity.

        Finally, a tall, dark figure makes his way to the pond, picks up one little rock, carfully aims it and throws. The frog choir is immediately silenced.

        The next morning the local bourgeoisie extends en masse their heartfelt gratitude to the stranger and asks how he managed to do this.

        "Easy enough," says Javert. "I got their conductor."


       An ad in the Quotidienne:

Attention, Residents of Saint-Marcel & Saint Jacques!

This is a public Service Announcement!

The dreadful nervous Disorder of


is now treated, in Accordance with latest scientific Discoveries and juristic Developments, with


at your local police station.

       Direct all further Inquiries to Inspector of the 1st Class Javert or the Commissaire of your district.


        Javert and an underling sergeant ride out one day to invesigate a gruesome coach accident.

        Javert calmly looks over the scene and says:

        "Right. Bordieu, start writing: 'Half of the corpse is on the esplanade, the other half is in a ditch."

        Sergeant (writing): "Chief, how do you spell 'esplanade', with an 'h' in front or without?"

        Javert thinks for a while, then kicks the rest of the corpse into the ditch.

        "Right. Bordieu, cross everything out and write this instead: 'The entire corpse is in the ditch, but in two pieces.'"


        - Good morning, Madame Thenardier! How is your headache?
        - He's out playing cards somewhere.


        Another ad in the Quotidienne, c. 1824:

        "Single off-white cop wants to meet the escaped convict who faked his own death in Brest four months ago for intense coversation and light BD/SM. No, make that the other way around. Box 666. P.S. Bring the candlesticks.


        Enjolras makes an inflamed speech in the Corinthe.

        "Friends! The Republic is on the horizon!"

        From the corner, Grantaire pipes up:

        "What's a horizon?"

        Combeferre puts on his "teaching" face and answers:

        "The horizon is a line where Heaven and Earth come together and which moves away from us as we try to approach it."


        Javert and the chief surgeon of the local hospital are taking a stroll along a quiet M.-sur-M. street. They meet with the Mayor Madeleine.

        "Your health, Monsieur le Maire!" smiles the surgeon.

        "My warmest regards," purrs Javert.

        When they are far enough away, the surgeon raises an eyebrow at his companion:

        "Since when do you love him so much?"

        Javert shrugs.

        "Well, I couldn't just flat out tell him 'Burn in hell,' now could I?"


        After the death of her indigent mother, Louison starts bringing to the cafe her 4-year-old daughter and leaving her in the back-room where Les Amis usually hold conference. The girl is immediately "adopted" by Jehan, who seats her in his lap and fans her with one of Feuilly's colorful creations.

        One day, in the middle of Enjolras' speech about the advent of the Republic, the little cutie takes her thumb out of her mouth and whispers to Jehan:

        "Maman's old puss Delphine just had babies and they are all Republicans!"

        A week later Jehan asks her:

        "How are your little kitten Republicans doing?"

        The girl opens her eyes wide and shakes her head:

        "Oh, m'sieur, they aren't Republicans any longer."

        Jehan raises his eyebrows:

        "But you said they were just last week!"

        The girl nods:

        "Yes, but last week they were still blind."


        Valjean is doing push-ups in Champ de Mars. A little boy is watching him from a little hillock to the side. Finally, the kid can't hold back any longer.

        "Mister, I think your lady-friend left!"


        1792, Toulon. A well-dressed bourgeois man is yelling and waving his arms in front of a boutique: someone has stolen his horse!

        A young Gypsy kid is leaning against the wall in the shadows, munching an apple core and observing the enraged man.

        "Hey Mister! I can tell you who stole your horse."

        The man turns to him and looks him over with doubt.

        "As if your kind has ever been known to tell the truth."

        The kid makes a face.

        "I never lie! But have it your way. It's your horse. Well, at least it was yours."

        "All right, start talking."

        "Spring for another apple, and I'll tell you."

        The man buys an apple from a nearby girl vendor and tosses it at him.

        "Well, you little scamp, who stole my horse?"

        The kid bites into the apple, chews thoughtfully for a while, and answers:



        Inspector Javert was famous for his skillful writing of police reports. Here is one of them:

        "... On the corner of Rue d'Assas and Rue du Cherche-Midi, I was approached by an inebriated individual dressed as a docks worker, who later turned out to be Lejeune, Jacques-Christian (a.k.a. Pierre Vareille, a.k.a. Threepence Jacques). Without clarifying the reasons behind such behaviour, he took out a hunting knife and began waving it in front of me with the intent of cutting up my leather jacket. I asked him not to do that and to give the knife to me. Mr. Lejeune agreed and gave me the knife. After this, I offered to accompany him to the nearby police station, to which he also agreed. Whether his arm was broken before this or not, I didn't notice. To this report I am attaching Mr. Lejeune's own confession and reports of agents Bordieu, R., and Lafayette, C.-T."


        "Hercules" Gueulemer is out prowling the streets and sees a respectable looking older gentleman out on a stroll. Gueulemer sneaks up behind him and growls:

        "Hey, old fart, gimme money!"

        The gentleman turns around and to his amazement and terror, Gueulemer beholds Jean "The Jack" Valjean.

        "How much did you want?" says Valjean evenly, flexing slightly his biceps.

        "G-g-got change for a napoleon?"


        June 1832. At the Barriere du Combat, the bartender complains to a visitor.

        - What a pity! My best customer has just passed away! A young man, ugly as sin, but with deep pockets. He came in every day and had no less than two bottles of white wine! And on Tuesdays he followed it up with absinthe. He drank and drank until his money ran out, and then stumbled out, only to come back the next night and start anew.
        - What'd he die of?
        - No idea.


        Enjolras, Combeferre, Eponine, Valjean, and Javert are on a camping trip. After a good meal and a couple of bottles of wine they lay down for the night. Some hours later, however, everyone is awake and contemplating the starry night sky.

        Enjolras: "Interlunation, on Earth as it is in Heaven. But progress will not wait. Soon, the light of France will no more go to waste under the bushel."

        Combeferre: "Millions of stars in thousands of galaxies... Who knows whether somewhere another Combeferre is not laying on his back in a field of rye and gazing to heavens in wonder? We cannot see each other; Nature gave us no eyes for it. But suppose we make a lens, grinding the glass very finely, and then concentrate a beam of light..."

        Eponine: "This is a spectacle for lovers, not sad, lonely jades. Oh, if only M'sieur Marius were here to enjoy this lovely sight with me!"

        Valjean: "Truly, a wretch like me, a worm of no consequence, is unworthy of beholding this grandeur. It is like kneeling before the Creator, eternal and glorious."

        Javert: "Bugger all, someone stole our tent."


        Javert and Valjean are riding in a cab to Marius' place. The silence is deafening and Valjean attempts small talk.

        "So, Javert... it's been a while since we last saw each other. How old are you now anyway?"

        "What about you?" replies Javert.

        Valjean decides that since all is lost, he might as well have a bit of fun with his old foe.

        "How much would you give me?" he asks teasingly.

        Javert contemplates him with cold eyes.

        "25 years for highway robbery with violence, breaking parole, and kidnapping of a minor."


        Thenardier is sitting on the doorsteps of Au Sargent de Waterloo and eating something tasty and crumbly. Little Azelma comes up to him and asks:

        "Papa, what are you eating?"
        "A muffin, sweetheat."
        "Papa, may I have some muffin?"
        "It's not a muffin, it's a tartine."
        "Papa, may I have some tartine?"
        "It's not a tartine, it's a roll."
        "Papa, may I have some roll?"
        "Leave me alone, you silly bitch, you don't even know yourself what you want."


        Barricade, nighttime. Javert is tied to the support beam; Valjean is sitting nearby and thinking. Finally, he asks hesitantly:

        "Javert, is it true your mother was a fortune-teller?"


        "Yes, it is."

        "Do you... have you inherited the gift, by any chance?"

        "Sure. Show me your hand, rykhalo, I'll tell you your fortune."

        Valjean offers his palm. Javert contemplates it for a few seconds, then says in a tone that allows no argument.

        "You will die of dysentery."

        Stunned, Valjean looks at his own hand.

        "Are my lines that bad?"

        "No, your hands are that dirty."


        Montreuil-sur-Mer. Valjean lays in his bed in thinks:

        "I must be getting weaker. I used to be able to run into a wall and feel nothing. Now I feel sorry for the wall."


        After his little episode with Petit Gervais, Valjean runs to the local curch to confess his sin. By sheer inertia he steals the Father's pocketwatch.

        "Tell me, my son, what sins are on your consciousness?"
        "Father, I am so ashamed, so ashamed! I have just stolen a watch from a very worthy person. May I give it to you?"
        "No, my son, do not give it to me. Give it to the man it belongs to.
        "But... but he doesn't want it anymore."
        "In that case, keep it and don't torment yourself."


        One cold winter's night at the Bossuet-Joly household...

        Joly: „Well, are we laying down for this or what?"
        Musichetta: "I wouldn't."
        Bossuet: "I would."
        J: „If I were you, I'd stand. I like it standing up best."
        B: "I'm for laying down."
        M: "Well, it's usually done laying down."
        B: „Joly, luv, just do it, it's getting late."
        M: „Come on, lads, don't keep a girl waiting."
        J: „All right, we're laying down."
        B: „Right."
        M: „Hop-pa!"
        J: „There we are."
        B: „Wait, put that closer to yourself, or we'll get mixed up."
        M: „Here."
        B: „Yes."
        J: „And there."
        B: „Yes!"
        M: „And now there."
        B: „Yes, yes, yes!!"
        M: „Oh…"
        J: "Come on, give it up."
        B: "Hey, there's no rush. Musie, put your this on his that..."
        M: "Ow."
        J: "Wait, what if we do this instead?"
        M: "Yes, yes, yes!"
        B: "Wow."
        J: "Phew..."
        M: "Oh, my... You boys are something, you know that?"
        B (lighting up a cigarette and grimacing contentedly): "Yeah, that was all right."
        J: "I liked it."
        B: "Me too. Write up four points for me."
        M: "And six whists for me."
        J: "I still say we should have opened with diamonds instead of clubs."
        B: "Your turn to deal."


        Valjean is sitting on the bank of Seine and smoking a joint. Suddenly, there's a voice from the bushes behind him:

        "The cognes are here! Scram!"

        Valjean drops his joint and dives headfirst into the river. A minute later he comes up for air and finds Javert sitting in his spot and puffing on his joint.

        "Jack, I gotta tell you man, I'm aghast at how well you dive..."


        Gavroche and Javert meet up.

        "Hey, Inspector, wanna hear a joke about a stupid cop?"

        Javert blinks.

        "Did I just hear what I think I just heard? Have you forgotten that I am a cop too?"

        Gavriche thinks for a second.

        "That's all right, I can tell it slowly and repeat if necessary."


        Joly and a friend from the hospital are smoking opium in the attic. Suddenly Joly gasps:

        "Pierre, Pierre, look! A red crocodile just flew out the window!"

        Meanwhile, Javert and a colleague are passing the time in the street below. Suddenly Javert looks up and and blinks.

        "Those damn medicals are at it again - look, a red crocodile just flew out the window!"


        Dusha Val'jana: "Oj, gde yeto ya??"
        Dusha Javera: "V rayu."
        Dusha Val'jana: "A pochemu vse vokrug obmotano kolyuchej provolokoj?"
        Dusha Javera: "Rrrazgovorchiki v RAYU!!"


        Laigle is flunking his end-of-the-year orals. Blondeau is delighted.

        "Your head, my young friend," says Blondeau, "is a veritable desert."

        To which Laigle replies:

        "You are quite right, but even the driest desert has its oasis, though not every camel is able to find it."


        An old professor complains to Blondeau.

        "Old age is a dreadful thing, my friend. The other night I dreamt that I was reading my students a lecture. I woke up, and what did I discover? I really was reading them a lecture!"


        Javert, Valjean, and Enjolras make a bet: which one of them can get a cat to eat mustard.

        Javert catches the cat, plies open her jaws, and shoves a spoonful of mustard inside.

        "That's force, it doesn't count," protest Valjean and Enjolras.

        Valjean hides the mustard between two slices of ham, and the cat gobbles it all up.

        "That's trickery and deceit, it also doesn't count," protest Javert and Enjolras.

        At last, Enjolras catches the cat and smears some mustard under her tail. The cat howls and begins to hurriedly lick it off.

        "Make note," says Enjolras smugly, "the action is entirely voluntary, and is even performed with a song."


        Once this guy called Javert a "pig" to his face. Javert got pissed off and ordered him to pay a fine of 30 sous for offending an officer of the law on duty. The guy pulls out a five-ball piece. Out of sheer spite, Javert tells him that he has no change for five francs.

        "Oh, you have no change eh?" fumes the guy. "Well then, here you go: pig, pig, and for the remaining 10 sous - copper!!"


        Joly's first autopsy report:

        "The autopsy showed that the patient died of the autopsy."


        Javert is interrogating a suspect.

        Javert: "Your profession?"
        Suspect: "I am an acrobat."
        Javert: "Sergeant, go close the window."


        Arnold Schwarzenegger gets on a bus. On the next stop, an aging public transportation official with blindingly white hair steps into the car and starts checking everyone's tickets.

        "Your ticket, sir?"
        "I'm Arnold Schwarzenegger!"
        "What of it? Your ticket, please."

        Schwarzenegger glares at him, takes a golden Sacagawea dollar out of his pocket, puts it into the ticket-stamper and presses down hard. The coin comes out with three holes lined up down the middle.

        The official takes the mutilated dollar, says "Enjoy your ride," ...and tears it absentmindedly along the perforations.


        Edmont Dantes, D'Artagnan, and Grantaire get shipwrecked on an uninhabited island. Naturally, the first thing they find on it is a bottle with a genie.

        "You may each have two wishes," booms the genie.

        "A million ecu and to go back to France!" exclaims Dantes.

        *Pfffft!* Dantes is gone in a puff of pink smoke.

        "The rank of marshal and to go back to France! echoes D'Artagnan.

        *Pfffft!* D'Artagnan is gone in a puff of pink smoke.

        "And you," says the genie to Grantaire, "what do you wish for?"

        Grantaire scratches his head.

        "Damnation!.. and just when we were getting on like the proverbial house on fire... A crate of absinthe and both fellas back on the island!"


        After 10 years of flawless service in Paris, Javert was still only a captain. When he complained about this, the prefect, who could't stand Javert, told him:

        "You will be raised in rank when you... ugh... complete an assignment of the highest importance. You must journey immediately to India and bring from there.... uhm... a pair of crocodile shoes!"

        Javert salutes and walks out of the office.

        Two years later, a search and rescue team is sent to India, to recover Javert's remains. After weeks of hacking through the jungle, they finally find him. With a huge, thick beard and wearing rags, Javert sits on riverbank holding a huge cudgel in his hands. Behind him rises a gigantic pile of dead crocodiles.

        A croc swims by; Javert whacks him on the head with the cudgel, drags him out of the water, examines his feet, and throws him on the pile with a curse:

        "Fuck, another one without shoes!!"


        Enjolras, Babet, and Javert enlist in the army and get shipped off to war.

        They arrive in the heat of battle and are told that for the head of every enemy they bring back, they will get a reward.

        Enjolras goes out on a day's mission and comes back with three heads.

        Babet goes out the next day and comes back with five heads.

        The next morning, Javert leaves and comes back after an hour dragging a huge sack full of chopped off heads. Everyone in the camp is in shock.

        "Where in good Lord's name did you learn how to butcher people like this?!"

        "When I was young," says Javert, "I traveled with my clan across the vast steppes of Asia."

        "But... but there aren't any people living there!"

        "And there won't be any here either."


        Three public bathroom stalls in the law school.

        Voice from the cabin on the right:

        "Larouche! Have you passed your finals yet?"

        Voice from the cabin on the left:

        "No, I haven't. That jackass Blondeau refuses to accept my essay late!"

        Voice from the cabin in the middle:

        "And I will stand by the decision."


        A wolf (Montparnasse), a fox (Valjean), and a rooster (Enjolras) are in the galleys

        Valjean-fox: "Wolf, why are you here?"
        Montparnasse-wolf: "Murder. I killed a sheep. You?"
        Valjean-fox (sighing): "I stole a chicken for my starving cubs."
        Montparnasse-wolf (nodding): "No justice in the world,no justice at all... And you, cock-a-doodle-doo? What are you here for?
        Enjolras-rooster: "I am a political prisoner!"
        Wolf and fox: "...???..."
        Enjolras-rooster: "I pecked the Paris Prefect in the ass."


        The Bishop of Digne is confessing a young lass:

        Girl: "Bless me, Monsigneur, for I have sinned!"
        Bishop: "Confess, my child."
        Girl: "I had sex with my beau, even though we are not yet married."
        Bishop: "How many times?"
        Girl: "Five."
        Bishop: "Read five 'Hail Mary's and ten 'Our Father's."

        Next week, same girl comes to confession.

        Girl: "Bless me, Monsigneur, for I have sinned again."
        Bishop: "Oh dear... How many times now?"
        Girl: "Three and a half."
        Bishop: "Hmm... go and sin some more, my child; I'm worthless with fractions!"



        A young girl struggling with a jar of pickles comes up to Javert and asks:
        "Monsieur, could you get this open for me?"
        Javert takes the jar and knocks on the top:
        "Open up, police!"


        Javert is sitting at his desk at the station and reading something quietly:
        "Slowly, the hands traverse the chest and move onto the shoulders, then downward along the spine, gliding towards the hips, slowly converge on the stomach..."
        A lieutenant looks over his shoulder.
        "Is that Kama-Sutra??"
        Javert: "No, it's instructions on how to search the newly arrested."


        Javert's apartement was being overrun by mice, and so the inspector bought himself a cat. The cat took care of the mice like a pro, but she had one major personality flaw: she always crapped right in the center of the room. Javert decided to correct this behavior the usual way: as soon as the cat did her business, he shoved her nose into it, and then threw her out the window. A week passed, then two weeks. Nothing changed: fresh kitty caca on the floor every day.
        So there is Javert, sitting around and thinking of what could be going wrong. Suddenly the cat walks in, does its business on the floor, then shoves its nose into the pile, and jumps out the window with a loud meowl.


        This is a story about Babet during those unfortunate days when he had to earn his daily bread by begging.
        One night, Babet was drinking a bottle of red or another at a workers' cafe.
        Bartender: "You owe 21 sous."
        Babet extracted from his pockets 21 sous in coins of 1 sou each and threw them across the bar. The bartender paled but said nothing and collected the money.
        The next day Babet once again ordered a bottle of wine in the same cafe from the same bartender. The bartender once again gave him the check for 21 sous.
        Babet put down a two-franc piece.
        "Now I'll get you back," thought the bartender, picked up 19 1-sou coins and threw them across the bar. The coins rolled in all directions.
        Babet surveyed the room for a couple of seconds, then took out 2 more 1-sou coins and handed them to the bartender with the words:
        "I'll be having another."


        Paris Prefect Gisquet shows up to work one morning and discovers a big stinky pile of poop right in the middle of his office. Enraged, he calls together all the cops who've been in his office the previous day. But how to find out which one of them did it?
        "I think I can figure him out, sir, if you permit it," says Javert. Gisquet nods to him and steps aside.
        Javert takes a ball of yarn out of his coat pocket and instructs people to pass it along until everyone has grabbed a hold of the yarn. When the ball comes back around to him, Javert says:
        "Well, is everyone ready?"
        "Ye-eee-es!" (the entire departement in chorus)
        "Does everyone have the string in their hand?"
        "Ye-eee-es!" (in chorus)
        "And the one who did this as well?"
        "Ye-eee-es!" (a solitary voice from the crowd)


        Blondeau and Lesgle meet up in the street.

        Lesgle: "Greetings, Monsieur Blondeau!"
        Blondeau: "I do not greet fools."
        Lesgle: "Really? Well, I do!"


        Once the Paris prefecture organized a mandatory intelligence test for all of its agents. The most astonishing results were achieved by Inspector of the first class Javert. Upon being given a Rubic's cube, it only took him fifteen seconds to eat it.


        Javert busts into the precinct dragging a young kid with a dog.
        "What happened, Javert?" asks the secretary.
        "Someone take him off my hands before I kill him!"
        "What did he do?"
        "He asked me to have sex with his dog!"
        "... o.0 ..."
        "He said that she'll then have puppies and he always wanted a police dog!"


        Marius: "Mr. Fauchelevant, I would like to ask you for your daughter's hand."
        Valjean: "You've got two of your own."
        Marius: "Yeah, and they are getting mighty tired."


        - Why do Paris policemen walk in threes?

        - One can read, one can write, and the other is there to supervize those two dangerous intellectuals.


        On the barricade, Javert makes small-talk with Gavroche.

        Javert: "How old are you, kid?"
        Gavroche: "I'll be thirteen in a few weeks."
        Javert (under his breath): "Well, someone is an optimist."


        Gavroche and Eponine are killing time on a bench in the Tuileries Gardens.
        Gavroche: "You know what I'd really, really love to have? Enough money to buy that statue," and he points to a fountain of a boy holding a fish.
        Eponine: "For what purpose do you need a statue?"
        Gavroche: "For no purpose. I don't need it at all. I just want to have that much money."


        One night, little Gavroche spies his parents making love. Stunned, he lies down on his pile of rags next to his sisters, turns away to face the wall, and mumbles to himself:
        "And these people dare tell me not to pick my nose!!!"


        Thenardier is yelling at Gavroche:
        "How dare you talk to me so flippantly? Why do you treat me with such disrespect? Am I your father or am I not your father?!"
        Gavroche: "That's a hell of a riddle to ask me, old man! How would I know?"


        Little Gavroche is crying in the corner. Azelma pats his head.
        "Why are you crying, little bro?"
        "Pop and Mom are fighting."
        "They do that often, don't worry. They'll stop soon."
        "But Pop just called Mom a cow, and Mom just called Pop a weasel!"
        "So what?"
        "What does that make ME?!!"


        One day Bahorel shows up the cafe with a black eye. Concerned, Joly grills him about it:

        J: "Who did this?"
        B: "Three Royalist bastards of some kind."
        J: "But who were they?"
        B: *shrugging* "It happened at a public prostest. There was a crowd, everyone was shouting - I didn't get a good look at them."
        J: "Well, could you identify them if you saw them again?"
        B: "Why should I bother? Let their relatvies identify them now!"


        Javert walks into the depot at the Assizes of the Departement of the Var and addresses the sergeant on duty:
        "May I speak to the man who was tried here for a highway robbery with violence some days past, one Jean Valjean?"
        "I'm sorry, monsieur," salutes the sergeant, "but he has already been sent off on a chain gang to Toulon. However, given this man's past history, I suggest you check back with us in one month."


        After the Sunday Mass, Javert and a priest friend are watching an argument between two parisioners escalate into a brawl. Javert moves towards the fighters to pull them apart, but the priest holds him back:
        "Wait, my son."
        The fighters carry on. Blood stains the sidewalk. Javert tries to move again, but the priest holds him in place:
        "Wait, now is not yet the time."
        Finally one of fighters collapses on the ground. The prist releases Javert's sleeve and tells him with a smirk:
        "Let's go, friend. One of them is now yours, the other - mine."


        Once Javert bumps into Mayor Madeleine on a public highway and "inadvertently" knocks something small and round out of his vest pocket.
        "Well, well, well! A hollowed out sou coin with a watch-spring saw!" exclaims Javert pocketing the trinket. "I knew it! You are an ex-convict after all!"
        "Why do you think so?" asks Madeleine.
        "Because this is a tool used only by convicts. They saw their chains in half with it. So I am arresting you for breaking parole!"
        Madeleine shrugs and unzips his fly.
        "Arrest me for rape then as well."
        Javert snarls.
        "You fiend! Have you raped someone as well?!"
        "No," says Madeleine. "But I've got the tool, don't I?"


        A sergeant runs up to Javert.
        "Sir, the men we arrested are being noisy again. Well, one of them is. The one is cell number five."
        "Number five... now, whom have I stowed away in number five? What does he look like?"
        "Long haired and filthy. He is weeping and moaning that no one is paying him any attention."
        "It's Brujon. God, is that man irritating!... Fine, you stay here, I'll go search him again."


Copyright © by Anna M. Z.