The burp.

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He gave yet another passionate speech about how it was 'time to cut the fat one's down to size', he had been giving speeches like this for years now but it was only tonight that Grantaire finally understood how much he despised them. As he spoke about them the potent venom in his voice told everyone in the room that he loathed them. The way the words of hate rolled off his tounge would make you think he was talking about the black death. But no. To him that would have been blessing, you could tell. The anger and hate burned bright in his eyes engulfing any other emotion able to seep through.

As Grantaire looked upon the disgust on his face he pondered upon whether to ask his friend why he loathed them?
In the end he thought better of it and decided Enjolas would tell him when he was ready. But he couldn't help wonder.

After a few minutes of hard thinking Grantaire picked up a bottle, as he found that after lots of brain exercise a nic cold beer was the best thing. In fact to him beer was good for anything.

Grantaire placed the empty bottle on the table table and let out huge burp, people around looked disgusted but it phase him in fact he new he had their attention. Which gave him an idea. He grabbed the bottle nearest to him and started to drink.
Approximately 30 seconds later he stood on the table still chugging down beer and let out the loudest burp humanely possible.

This obviously gained the attention off the rest of the café due to the main voice noise in the room coming from Enjolas. Who like the other people on Grantaire's table looked appalled let alone annoyed.

Grantaire took this moment to start a chant in aid of Enjolas. Fist bumping the air Grantaire shouted "viva le France!" Gradually more and more people joined the chant. Even Enjolas.

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