stupid recap edition
LUCIE MANETTE: Loyal, beautiful, caring, devoted, nauseating repository of all womanly virtues.
The great DOCTOR ALEXANDRE MANETTE: Experienced physician and shoemaker.
CHARLES DARNAY: Good-hearted, virtuous young man; only slightly more interesting to read about than a potato.
Mr. JARVIS LORRY: A man of business.
JERRY CRUNCHER: Wife-threatening lowlife of dubious occupation, with the hair of an anime character, nevertheless better than a French peasant.
MISS PROSS: Redheaded English xenophobe.
Mr. STRYVER: A lawyer who shoulders.
SYDNEY CARTON: Drunken fool with keen investigative skills.
DEFARGE: Portly wine-shop owner.
MADAME DEFARGE: Raging lunatic. She also knits.
THE MARQUIS of EVREMONDE: Enjoys twirling his moustaches.
La VENGEANCE: Enjoys kissing and embracing Madame Defarge.
THE MENDER OF ROADS: Nameless stooge.
JACQUES: Enjoy saying “Jacques”.
JOHN BARSAD: Enjoys being a sheep of the prisons.
ROGER CLY: Enjoys being with John Barsad, apparently.
DICKENS: France SUCKS! England also SUCKS! It was also the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy five.
Mr. LORRY: I’m a man of business.
JERRY: “Wait at Dover for Mam’selle”.
Mr. LORRY: “Recalled to life”.
JERRY: Well, that was odd.
Mr. LORRY: As a man of business, I would like to say tell you a story.
LUCIE: *scrunched forehead*
Mr. LORRY: Let’s say there was a hypothetical French doctor who disappeared 20 years ago, leaving his young daughter an orphan, and that I brought this daughter to England to be raised, and that it then turned out that the doctor was actually alive, but imprisoned by the evil aristocracy, and that we just found out where he was. Hypothetically.
DICKENS: Poverty SUCKS!
DEFARGE: Hello Jacques, Jacques, and Jacques.
MADAME DEFARGE: *KNITS*
Mr. LORRY: As a man of business, do you have a hypothetical formerly-imprisoned doctor around?
DEFARGE: This way.
DOCTOR MANETTE: *makes shoes*
Mr. LORRY: Greetings.
DOCTOR MANETTE: *makes shoes*
LUCIE: Greetings. I have blonde hair.
DOCTOR: Are you my dead wife?
DOCTOR: Close enough.
LONDON, FIVE YEARS LATER
DICKENS: Tellson’s SUCKS!
MRS. CRUNCHER: *flops*
JERRY: *throws boot*
THE OLD BAILEY
DICKENS: The English prison system SUCKS!
PEOPLE: Yay, a treason case!
Mr. ATTORNEY-GENERAL: Mr. Darnay is accused of being a French spy. The evidence comes from the honourable John Barsad and Roger Cly.
DICKENS: The English judicial system SUCKS!
STRYVER, elite defense lawyer: John Barsad, is, in fact, a lying whore.
STRYVER: Cly is his accomplice.
READERS: …and why do we care?!
Mr. ATTORNEY-GENERAL: Mr. Lorry, have you met the prisoner before, on your return trip from Calais five years previously?
Mr. LORRY: Yes.
Mr. ATTORNEY-GENERAL: And you, Miss Manette?
Mr. ATTORNEY-GENERAL: Did he do anything suspicious?
LUCIE: He handed some mysterious papers around and said that George Washington rulez.
ANONYWITNESS: I saw him at a mysterious hotel in a mysterious town one night.
STRYVER: Are you sure it was not…THIS MAN WHO IS IDENTICAL IN EVERY WAY TO MR. DARNAY BUT IS NOT, IN FACT, HE? *points*
SYDNEY: *tilts back jauntily in chair with wig askew*
SYDNEY: Look you, she has fainted! I mean…I don’t care…*whistles jauntily*
JURY: We acquit Darnay.
JUDGE: But he said George Washington rulez!
DARNAY: Thank you, Stryver. Thank you, Lorry. Thank you, Manettes. Good night all.
DARNAY: *is uncomfortable*
LORRY: This is none of your business.
SYDNEY: I don’t have any business.
LORRY: O_O Perhaps if you did, you would attend to it.
SYDNEY: Lord love you, no! – I shouldn’t.
READERS: *fall instantly in love*
SYDNEY: Have dinner with me, Darnay.
DARNAY: *is uncomfortable*
SYDNEY: *gets horribly drunk* *throws around glasses*
DARNAY: Um, thank you for saving my life today.
SYDNEY: Do you think I like you?
SYDNEY: I am drunk and nobody loves me!
DARNAY: …leaving now.
SYDNEY: *drinks self into stupor and collapses*
SYDNEY: *wears a towel on his head* *does lawyer stuff*
STRYVER: Ah, Carton, doesn’t this remind you of the days when we were schoolboys and I used to pay you to do my homework for me.
STRYVER: A toast to Lucie Manette!
SYDNEY: I do not know any Lucie Manette, she is stupid, I do not like her at all, what are you saying, I’m going home now.
SYDNEY: *goes home and cries*
DICKENS: The Manette residence, a repository of all that is worthy in Victorian England. Poor, but tastefully arranged. Their servant was Miss Pross, but that was okay because she LOVED being a servant.
MISS PROSS: Hundreds of people want Lucie Manette to go out with them, but she should really go out with my brother Solomon who stole all my money and left me.
Mr. LORRY: Healthy.
A STORM: *rages*
SYDNEY: I feel that one day a crowd, nay, a very Revolution shall impinge upon our lives.
ALL: *nod sagely*
MONSEIGNEUR: *is fed chocolate by five people*
DICKENS: The French aristocracy SUCKS!
THE MARQUIS: MUAHAHAHAHABWAHWHAHAHAMWUAUAUAUAHA
THE FRENCH ARISTOCRACY: You are so evil, even we hate you.
THE MARQUIS: *drinks and drives his carriage* MUAHWAHAWHA out of the way you peasant dogs!
A PEASANT: …you just…killed my child!
THE MARQUIS: …your child injured my horses!
A PEASANT: :O
THE MARQUIS: *throws him a coin*
DEFARGE: *throws coin back*
THE MARQUIS: Who did that? I WILL KEEL YOU ALL PEASANT DOGS MUAHAHWAHWAH AHAHAHAAHAH MWAMAHAHAHAHAAH! *drives off*
THE MARQUIS: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I TAX THE COUNTYSIDE AND KEEL THE PEASANT DOGS MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
MENDER OF ROADS: There is a dude under your carriage.
DARNAY: Hello Uncle.
THE MARQUIS: My friend Charles, son of my elder and unfortunately deceased twin brother. Isn’t it terrible how the aristocracy’s rights are being impinged upon by peasants nowadays?
DARNAY: I think you are trying to kill me.
THE MARQUIS: Of course I am, my friend.
DARNAY: I hate you and your aristocratic kind, and I’m giving up the family name to move to England.
THE MARQUIS: Repression is the only lasting philosophy! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!
THE MARQUIS: *is stabbed in his sleep*
THE KNIFE: *reads “Jacques wuz here”*
A YEAR LATER
DARNAY: I love Lucie.
DOCTOR MANETTE: But does she love you?
DARNAY: I don’t know. Also I want to know if she has other suitors.
DOCTOR MANETTE: Only Stryver and Carton visit us, what’s the likelihood of one of them being madly and passionately in love with her?
DARNAY: So can we date?
DOCTOR MANETTE: I think so. Even if you were indirectly responsible for some horrible crime, I would forgive you for her sake.
DARNAY: That reminds me, do you want to know my real name and…
DOCTOR MANETTE: STFU! *runs away*
STRYVER: I’ve been thinking, I should ask Lucie Manette to marry me.
SYDNEY: *drinks ten bowls of punch*
STRYVER: I’ve been thinking, I should ask Lucie Manette to marry me.
Mr. LORRY: But I don’t think she likes you.
STRYVER: Well, I never! *shoulders off out of the novel*
SYDNEY: *sleeplessly stalks the streets of Soho*
SYDNEY: I am madly and passionately in love with you.
SYDNEY: But I am a worthless wasted person.
LUCIE: Why don’t you change and put your skills to good use, then?
SYDNEY: Alas, it is too late. I only ask that you remember my pure true love for you when you see me engaging in future drunken licentiousness.
LUCIE: Of course.
SYDNEY: And one more thing, if you ever need me to do a favour for you, like maybe if someone you knew were in trouble, or say perhaps one of your children needed help, or your husband was captured by French Revolutionaries and could only be saved by someone swapping places with him at the guillotine, then I would do that for you.
PEOPLE: We are burying Roger Cly!
DICKENS: People SUCK.
JERRY: Turns out that I rob graves for body parts.
DICKENS: Deal with it
MENDER OF ROADS: Remember that tall guy who killed the Marquis? He’s going to be brutally executed.
DEFARGE: Let’s condemn the Marquis’ whole race.
MADAME DEFARGE: *KNITS*
DEFARGE: Would you like to kill some aristocrats?
MENDER OF ROADS: Yes please!
MADAME DEFARGE: Look out, there’s a spy coming in today. He’s English.
BARSAD: Good moaning.
MADAME DEFARGE: *KNITS*
BARSAD: So, you used to be friends with Doctor Manette? Did you know his daughter is marrying The Marquis’ nephew? I am the most useless spy ever! *leaves*
DEFARGE: Wow. Hey, since Doctor Manette is our friend and all, do we really need to proscribe…
MADAME DEFARGE: *GLARES*
DEFARGE: Never mind.
LUCIE: Oh, isn’t it a lovely evening. So, you really don’t mind if I marry Charles tomorrow?
DOCTOR MANETTE: No. Sometimes in prison I had insane fantasies.
Mr. LORRY: Don’t cry.
MISS PROSS: I’m not crying, you are. Where’s the Doctor?
Mr. LORRY: Talking to Charles secretively in that room.
DARNAY&LUCIE: *ride off into the sunset*
Mr. LORRY: Are you all right, there?
DOCTOR: *makes shoes*
Mr. LORRY: Oh dear.
NINE DAYS LATER
DOCTOR: *hums merrily*
Mr. LORRY: Let’s say there was a hypothetical doctor who was imprisoned in the Bastille for 20 years but mostly recovered and then had a relapse from the traumatic experience of his daughter’s marriage nine days ago. Hypothetically.
DOCTOR: Was the hypothetical daughter told about the relapse?
Mr. LORRY: No.
DOCTOR: He’ll be fine.
Mr. LORRY: As a man of business, I think we should burn the shoemaking bench.
DOCTOR: NOT MY BOOBOO SHOEMAKING BENCH! I mean…hypothetically, yes we should.
SYDNEY: Welcome home, newlyweds.
SYDNEY: Do you remember that one time when I was really drunk and asked if you like me? Sorry about that.
DARNAY: What are you talking about? Oh, that. I never even think of it.
SYDNEY: YES YOU DO, IT CONSUMES YOU!
DARNAY: No, mostly what I remember about that day is that you saved my life.
SYDNEY: Pfft, that doesn’t mean anything, I did it on a whim.
SYDNEY: Anyway, can I roam freely through your house at all times of the year? Thank you! Bye now!
DARNAY: So, that Carton, he is a rather odd fellow, don’t you think?
LUCIE: Oh, darling, don’t say that! He has a truly good heart, a secret heart, and I have seen it bleed! *throws self against breast*
DARNAY: But I…
LUCIE: Though he lives now in drunken licentiousness, his true and noble heart is capable of magnanimity, my dearest Love, O Charles!
DARNAY: I did not mean to disparage him, Dear Heart! I will never disparage him again! O fondest Love!
DICKENS: If a forlorn wanderer could have seen the drops of pity in her soft blue eyes, he would have cried aloud in the very street, “bless her for her sweet compassion!”
LUCIE: Hi, I’m Lucie Manette, and everyone basks in the glory of my perfection.
LUCIE JR: *is born*
DICKENS: When a man loves a woman, and then she goes off with someone else instead, her children with that other man will hold a special place in that first man’s affection.
LUCIE JR: I love Carton!
LUCIE: Hooray, my very own drunken licentious babysitter!
SIX YEARS: *pass*
MEANWHILE, IN FRANCE
JACQUES: *storm the Bastille*
DEFARGE: Hmmm, it’s Doctor Manette’s old cell. *rummages*
JACQUES: We have taken the Bastille! Give the governor direct to Mme Defarge!
MADAME DEFARGE: *hews off the governor’s head with a KNIFE* I TOLD U I WAS HARDCORE.
DICKENS: The French Revolution SUCKED!
JACQUES: Remember that guy who said “Let them eat grass”? Let’s kill him.
THE MARQUIS’ PALACE: *burns*
PEOPLE: Hooray! Let’s burn everything else in the town!
GABELLE: Oh dear. *hides in his house*
Mr. LORRY: As a man of business, I’m going to France.
DARNAY: Aren’t you a little old?
Mr. LORRY: Pfft.
BYSTANDERS: Stupid unruly peasants! How DARE they revolt?
DARNAY: *is offended*
Mr. LORRY: By the way, I have this undeliverable letter for the nephew of an evil Marquis.
DARNAY: Why, I happen to know a nephew of an evil Marquis.
STRYVER: *shoulders back into the novel* Why, anyone who would abandon their Marquis estates in France to the peasant mob is a LOW-DOWN YELLOW-BELLIED GIRLYMAN. *shoulders off*
DARNAY: >:| *opens letter*
LETTER: “Here in France where they brutally slaughter emigrants, I am being imprisoned for having helped you, an emigrant, escape from France. I feel this is most unfair. Love, Gabelle.”
DARNAY: I must go…to FRANCE! And not tell anybody, especially not Lucie, because…I love her! Love = constant lying!
PATRIOTS: Hello, welcome to France, where we brutally slaughter returning emigrants!
DEFARGE: Hello, I am Doctor Manette’s old servant. You must be his son-in-law.
DARNAY: I am! Help me?
DEFARGE: Of course I will help you, into this prison for aristocratic dogs.
Mr. LORRY: As a man of business, I now reside in the house of one of the five servants who fed chocolate to Monseigneur, because everything in Dickens must interrelate.
MANETTES: *burst in*
Mr. LORRY: As a man of business, WHAT?!
DOCTOR MANETTE: What was that?
Mr. LORRY: Nothing.
LUCIE: Poor Charles has been captured in his secret flight to France because France is a dangerous country in turmoil! So I have brought my aged father and young child into France to find him!
DOCTOR MANETTE: Seriously what’s that noise?
Mr. LORRY: Nothing. But now, Lucie, if you ever want to resolve this situation, you must do what you have always done.
LUCIE: Stay out of the way and be constantly lied to for my own protection?
Mr. LORRY: Yes.
DOCTOR MANETTE: I’m opening this window now!
Mr. LORRY: Don’t! Unless you want to see a GRUESOME and HORRIBLE sight! – Oh, never mind.
DOCTOR: *opens window*
PEASANTS: *sharpen weapons on the grindstone*
Mr. LORRY: It’s bad because they’re sharpening the weapons to go on a mad murderous rampage through the prison where Charles is staying.
DOCTOR: HDSLIDLKSAFHDSA! *runs off*
DEFARGE: I have a note for you.
MADAME DEFARGE: *KNITS*
Mr. LORRY: *reads* “Charles was not killed in the mad murderous rampage, love, the Doctor.” Well, that’s good.
LUCIE: Oh thank you, thank you! *hugs and kisses Madame Defarge*
MADAME DEFARGE: You did NOT just kiss Madame Defarge.
LUCIE: *backs away slowly* I’m scared.
Mr. LORRY: Don’t be scared, Madame here just wanted to see your face, so that she can…protect you, yes, that’s right, protect you.
MADAME DEFARGE: Does this child carry the polluted blood of the Evremondes? *MENACES WITH KNITTING NEEDLE*
LUCIE: I beg you by the bonds of womanly tenderness, have pity on me and my child!
MADAME DEFARGE: *leaves*
DOCTOR: Watch as I make up for my past craziness with my present abilities to manipulate the French prison system.
DICKENS: The guillotine SUCKS!
A YEAR LATER
DOCTOR: There is a certain spot by the prison wall. If you stand there Charles will maybe be able to see you, but he might never make it to the window and if you make any gestures towards the window you’ll be arrested for conspiracy.
LUCIE: I shall go there every day for two hours, dragging my young daughter through the blistering snow!
DICKENS: Her loyalty is so touching!
READERS: Her stupidity is so deep!
WOOD-SAWYER, formerly MENDER OF ROADS: I love La Guillotine! Chop chop chop! Say there, what are you doing, coming here every day in an abandoned street to stare at the prison window?
PATRIOTS: *dances the Carmagnole*
DICKENS: The Carmagnole SUCKS!
LUCIE: Oh Papa, I am traumatized by the dancing of the French peoples.
DOCTOR MANETTE: That is all right, they are all gone now. Why don’t you blow a kiss to Charles, there’s no one around to accuse you of conspiracy.
LUCIE: *blows kiss*
MADAME DEFARGE: Cough. *walks on*
DOCTOR MANETTE: Well anyway, I got Charles a trial for tomorrow!
A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR: *arrives*
DICKENS: Who was the mysterious visitor?
THE EVENING PAPER: Behold the trial of Evremonde!
READERS: Who was the mysterious visitor?!?!
THE EVENING PAPER: The exciting trial of Evremonde!
COURT: Darnay is an emigrant!
DOCTOR MANETTE: Yes, but I was a Bastille prisoner.
COURT: Oh. Well then. *ACQUITS*
MISS PROSS: So, now that we’ve saved Charles, can we leave France?
DOCTOR MANETTE: No.
LUCIE: I hear ominous footsteps.
DOCTOR MANETTE: My dear, command yourself! You are so weak and easily upset!
LUCIE: This from you?
OMINOUS DOORKNOCKS: *knock*
LUCIE: Hide Charles!
DOCTOR MANETTE: Pfft, stupid woman, what have we to fear, when I, the great Doctor Manette, am around?
PATRIOTS: We are looking for Darnay.
PATRIOTS: To arrest you.
DOCTOR MANETTE: But…but I’m the great Doctor Manette!
PATRIOTS: *shrug* *carry Darnay away*
MISS PROSS: I hate La France, Jerry. Let’s go into this wine-shop.
MISS PROSS: ZOMG IT’S MY LONG-LOST BROTHER SOLOMON!!!!111!!!
SOLOMON: OMG STFU!
JERRY: ZOMG WTF!!!!! You weren’t called Solomon before! When you were a witness at the Old Bailey in that pointless-seeming trial sequence earlier on! You were called John something…John…
JERRY: That’s the one…HEY!
SYDNEY: Yes, in fact, it is I, the very same mysterious visitor from before. Kindly accompany me to Tellson’s France.
SYDNEY: Let us now play the hypothetical games of cards and Blackmail. I could tell the bloodthirsty Revolutionaries that a) You used to be a spy for England and b) you are now posing as a spy for France, but are still actually a spy for England.
BARSAD: You forgot to mention that Madame Defarge knitted me into her Knitting of Doom.
SYDNEY: That also.
SYDNEY: Oh, and I also think that c) you have an accomplice. That accomplice is Cly.
BARSAD: But Cly is dead, as we learned from Jerry’s Chapter of Seeming Plot Irrelevance.
JERRY: No, Cly is not actually dead, because when I dug him up to harvest his organs his coffin was empty.
BARSAD: This sucks.
SYDNEY: By the powers of Blackmail, I now command you to do me a favour.
Mr. LORRY: As a man of business, I have to say that grave-robbing is not a suitable occupation.
JERRY: Whatever, I’m totally justified, because if I didn’t harvest those organs someone ELSE would anyway.
Mr. LORRY: …
Mr. LORRY: So what did you blackmail the spy into doing?
SYDNEY: Letting me into Charles’ cell for five minutes.
Mr. LORRY: …what
SYDNEY: Hush. Now all we have to do is lie about everything to Lucie, because lying = love. By the way, how is Lucie?
Mr. LORRY: Pretty.
Mr. LORRY: I’m sorry, what was that, that sounded like an angst spasm?
SYDNEY: *looks around innocently*
Mr. LORRY: Your foot is on fire?
SYDNEY: Ahem. *stamps out foot* So, Lorry, do you think people will mourn you when you die?
Mr. LORRY: I guess so?
SYDNEY: If you thought that nobody would mourn for you when you died, wouldn’t you be horribly depressed and devote your life to drunken licentiousness?
Mr. LORRY: Um…?
SYDNEY: I’m going for a walk.
WOOD-SAWYER: I love La Guillotine!
SYDNEY: *refrains from smacking him up*
CHEMIST: Poisonous drugs, monsieur?
SYDNEY: Thank you.
SYDNEY: *wanders the streets of Paris morosely*
DICKENS: Almost everything in life SUCKS. Except for religion. And my elite prose abilities.
SYDNEY: *goes to the trial*
COURT: Darnay, you stand accused by three citizens. The first is Defarge. The second is Madame Defarge. The third is the great Doctor Manette.
DOCTOR MANETTE: WTF@!#?@!#?@!?#@!#! Why would I denounce my beloved son-in-law?
COURT: The more you love someone, the better it is to sacrifice them for the good of the Republic.
DEFARGE: The day I stormed the Bastille, I found the cell of Doctor Manette, and within it, this paper, written in his own hand, which I shall now narrate.
THE LETTRE OF ALEXANDRE MANETTE
DOCTOR MANETTE: It is 1767, and I am in prison and writing this letter in my own blood, which you would think would cause me to be brief, but apparently not.
DOCTOR MANETTE: *goes for a midnight stroll*
A WEALTHY MAN: Are you the great Doctor Manette?
DOCTOR MANETTE: Yes I am.
AN IDENTICAL WEALTHY MAN: Come with us.
DOCTOR MANETTE: But why?
EVIL TWINS: Do not question the aristocracy!
A MYSTERIOUS COTTAGE
WOMAN: My husband/father/brother! 1-12! Hush!
DOCTOR MANETTE: See now you should have told me this beforehand so I could have brought my stuff.
EVIL TWINS: Use our handy stash of narcotics.
DOCTOR MANETTE: Gee, thanks.
EVIL TWINS: By the way there’s another patient.
DOCTOR MANETTE: What?!
YOUNG PEASANT: *bleeds*
DOCTOR MANETTE: What happened to him?
TWIN ELDER: My brother stabbed him. MUAHAHAHA THAT PEASANT DOG MAUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
YOUNG PEASANT: Listen while I tell you the tragic tale!
THE TRAGIC TALE
PEASANTS: *are taxed*
WOMAN: I love you, sick man.
SICK MAN: I love you, woman.
TWIN YOUNGER: Hello, I would like to rape your wife.
SICK MAN: Okay.
WOMAN: I don’t want to be raped!
SICK MAN: Oh. Well then, stay away from my wife you jerk!
EVIL TWINS: Now you shall be our pony, and stay out in the fields all night quieting the frogs so we can sleep.
SICK MAN: Aie! I sob twelve times and die!
TWIN YOUNGER: *carries her off*
YOUNG PEASANT: Guess what, the evil twins have carried off my sister.
WOMAN and YOUNG PEASANT’s FATHER: *dies of shock*
WOMAN and YOUNG PEASANT’s LITTLE SISTER: Wah!
YOUNG PEASANT: Well, at least I’ll hide you where the evil twins can’t find you, little sis. *hides* And now for revenge!
YOUNG PEASANT: So I climbed through the window to duel with him, but I lost the duel and he stabbed me, and then broke his sword into pieces because he was so ashamed of having stained it with peasant blood.
DOCTOR MANETTE: o_o
YOUNG PEASANT: With this cross of blood I condemn you, evil twins, and your entire race, to death, to be enacted in any future Revolutions.
TWIN ELDER: Whatever.
YOUNG PEASANT: *dies*
TWIN ELDER: Is she dead yet?
DOCTOR MANETTE: No, she’s not “dead yet”, you freak.
TWINS: *eye suspiciously* You’re not going to tell anyone about all this, are you?
DOCTOR MANETTE: No.
DOCTOR MANETTE: By the way, she was pregnant.
A FEW DAYS LATER
DOCTOR MANETTE: This is all seriously disturbing. I’m going to write a strongly-worded letter to the government.
MARQUISE of EVREMONDE: Hello, I’m the wife of Twin Elder, aka The Original Evil Marquis, and this is my son Charles. I’m terribly upset by my husband’s pure evilness and I want to find the Young Peasant’s hidden sister and make amends to her.
DOCTOR MANETTE: I’m sorry, I don’t know who she is.
READERS: OMGWHO is the younger sister? It’s not like Dickens to have a loose end!!
MARQUISE: Oh. Well then. Charles, when you grow up and are making amends for your family’s evil ways will you promise to track down the younger sister and help her, even if frequent traveling from England to France makes the English suspect you as a spy?
CHARLES: Of course mama.
MARQUISE: Good boy.
DOCTOR MANETTE: *posts letter*
A MYSTERIOUS HENCHMAN: Hello, Doctor, I have an urgent case for you.
DOCTOR MANETTE: *steps outside* Where is it?
EVIL MARQUIS-ES: In the Bastille forever MUAHAHAHA AHAHAHAH AHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
DOCTOR MANETTE: And so, I, the great Doctor Manette, here in 1767, do likewise condemn the entire race of Evremonde to death, to be enacted in any future Revolutions.
/LETTRE OF ALEXANDRE MANETTE
DOCTOR MANETTE: :O
EVERYONE: Yep. Darnay = dead.
LUCIE: It won’t be long until I am with you again, darling, for I shall die of a broken heart, and Fortune will take care of Lucie Jr!
READERS: Responsible parenting.
DOCTOR MANETTE: OMGIMSOSORRY
DARNAY: There, there, it’s not your fault.
SYDNEY: Now that she is unconscious, I can touch her! *carries her home*
DOCTOR MANETTE: The fight is not over. I, the great Doctor Manette, shall visit all the judges and prisons in Paris!
SYDNEY: You do that, and I shall kiss your unconscious daughter!
LITTLE LUCIE JR: I love you Carton!
SYDNEY: *roams into Defarge’s wine-shop*
SYDNEY: Good moaning.
MADAME DEFARGE: He looks like Evremonde, but he is English?
SYDNEY: *reads paper upside-down*
DEFARGE: *keeps chatting in French* Look, we arrested Darnay, do we really need to kill the Manettes as well, I mean…
MADAME DEFARGE: *GLARES*
DEFARGE: But like…it…um…*mumbles*
MADAME DEFARGE: You do know why I hate the aristocracy with a passionate and psychopathic rage, don’t you?
DEFARGE: Because you’re the mysterious younger sister of the Young Peasant?
MADAME DEFARGE: But of course.
READERS: CALLED IT!
MADAME DEFARGE: Tell the Wind and Fire to stop, then, but I am hardcore.
SYDNEY: *wanders back to Tellson’s*
Mr. LORRY: Hello, have you seen Doctor Manette?
SYDNEY: No, but you have to leave France at once, because naturally I speak impeccable French and have learned Madame Defarge is plotting insane revenge.
DOCTOR MANETTE: *returns*
Mr. LORRY: …hello?
DOCTOR MANETTE: …
DOCTOR MANETTE: ME WANT BOOBOO SHOEMAKING BENCH! ME MAKE SHOES!!!!!
Mr. Lorry: Oh dear.
SYDNEY: Here, take my Escape out of France Free card, and have the carriage ready for all of us by 2pm tomorrow.
Mr. Lorry: Why?
Mr. Lorry: Okay! *goes off with the Doctor*
SYDNEY: *looks sadly from the street at the light in Lucie’s room*
DARNAY: THIS SUCKS! I’m going to be guillotined tomorrow and yet unlike some other people who engage in constant drunken licentiousness I actually do have something to live for!
SYDNEY: Please take off all your clothes and I shall take off all mine!
SYDNEY: Now write this letter: “Dear Lucie, remember when I exposed my deep and true feelings for you and made various prophetic statements? The time is now!”
DARNAY: “The time…is now…” Hey, is that chloroform in your hand? *THUNK*
SYDNEY: *swaps clothes* Take him away, Barsad.
BARSAD: *tergiversates* *does so*
SEAMSTRESS: I have more characterization in half a page than Lucie Manette has had in the whole novel! Hang on, you aren’t Evremonde! You die for him?
SYDNEY: Well not him exactly.
SEAMSTRESS: Please to hold my hand.
MANETTES + LORRY: *flee* Are we being pursued?
DARNAY: Mmmpf…Whath that in your hand? Choloform?
DICKENS: Fear my masterful use of the first person plural.
READERS: Um…where are Miss Pross and Jerry?
MADAME DEFARGE: My husband is a loser because he won’t help me kill the Lucies.
La VENGEANCE: For shame!
MADAME DEFARGE: I shall denounce them for making signals at a prisoner, and for grieving. Who is stupid enough to stand outside a prison by themselves for two hours a day, anyway?
WOOD-SAWYER: I do not know, Madame!
MADAME DEFARGE: Save me a seat at the guillotine, Vengeance, and take my knitting.
La VENGEANCE: Mais oui!
MADAME DEFARGE: *marches off*
MISS PROSS: *PANIC* *FLAIL*
JERRY: *PANIC* *FLAIL*
MISS PROSS: All right, you go ahead, and arrange the carriage, and I will meet you at Notre Dame at 3.
JERRY: Yes ma’am. *leaves*
MISS PROSS: *washes face*
MADAME DEFARGE: *appears in the mirror*
MISS PROSS: AIE!
MADAME DEFARGE: Where are the Lucies, you English pigdog?
MISS PROSS: Stay away from me, you French ho!
DEFARGE&PROSS: *confused stare of the unilingual*
MADAME DEFARGE: *is owned*
MISS PROSS: Hurrah! *runs off*
MISS PROSS: What? I cannot hear you, it is as if I will never hear anything again!
JERRY: Why, if you cannot hear me, it is as if you will never hear anything again!
DICKENS: And indeed, she never heard anything again!
DICKENS: Oppression sucks. 😦
TUMBRILS: *roll through the streets*
La VENGEANCE: hey where is Madame Defarge? She’ll be so pissed if she misses the Evremonde execution! *stomps*
KITTING WOMEN: *KNIT*
SYDNEY: *talks to the Seamstress*
SEAMSTRESS: *holds his hand and cries*
SYDNEY: It is a far, far, better book that I end now, than the first few rambling and meandering chapters gave the reader cause to hope for.
READERS: *drown in own tears*