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The entire nation of France was found dead in a smashed up Achieva at the bottom of the Cliff, Au Revoir, Merde
but it was exposed as a hoax after a brief investigation by the Keystone Gendarme when they figured out it was not the same make & model of the Albert Camus carcass car,
an association through which they sought to gain an iota of hipness,
but for no matter how many decades going into and coming out of the turn of the twenty first century the French character is dominated by lame pisantry, it will always have an intrinsic element of coolness for that day the peasants said
"Get yer outta me arse'
and stormed the Bastille to get guns because they were drunk and sad and mad that they were poor,
and Barney the myopic chronicler of time, also a bit deef in his one ear chronicled that they were heroes, freeing the unjustly jailed on bigtime historical lofty cause day
and during the confusion you know at least one person most likely male got the proverbial head blown off of their mug of beer,
and his mama cradled that head singing a vacant lullaby, and put a dirty flower on his grave every day until she too passed;
Had it not occurred there would be more plagues and less croissants, but it did and it is a great excuse to celebrate and cheerfully, stentorianly announce:
"What's the big news, big nose?"
to strangers walking the other way,
and get pleasantly disoriented by a Burmese sexpot with a mohawk singing about getting her rocks off on the architectural jumbopenis that stupid little kids from Colorado
with cotton candy residue on their dinkies point at and say mommy what's that mommy what's that what's that what's that.