Application for Jean-Etienne Beaufort, Bon Voyage
Jean-Etienne took a deep breath when Bremond called for him, turned around and headed back to the cabinet meeting, his mind whirring with what had just transpired between him and Vivienne. He was very sure he’d just been used, and nothing more, but hated having to do that. However, he had to do something even more soul sucking next, but as far as he was concerned, there was no other option. He pushed open the doors to the temporary cabinet room and prepared himself to sneak back in, except…there was not a single sign of his fellow ministers; which was a bonus in some respects, but a curse in others. Of all the days to lose your mind, Jean-Etienne. Of all the days. “Foutre,” he swore under his breath, hoping this would end soon, as he had a vitally important vote to participate in, and he wasn’t sure the mouse or cat knew much about politics. Then again, if they’d been produced by his own head, anything was possible. He glanced down to check he still had his clothes on, as dreams had a nasty habit of ridding you of them, but he still had his neatly done up waistcoat, tie and even his briefcase. He then furiously started willing himself to wake up.
Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"
There was an audible pause, and the minister looked at the Mouse incredulously, “Anglais?! I’m having hallucinations in English?! I really have gone mad. Can we stop this? I’m missing a very important vote here, mouse. God, subconscious, whoever, can I please just come around? Can we also go back to French?”
Nothing happened, so Jean-Etienne sighed and answered, with a hint of resignation and another hint of pride, “Jean-Etienne Beaufort, Interior Minister of the Third Republic of France. Happy?”
"What is your quest?" asks the Cat. It's perched, suddenly, on the roof of one of the gate-stiles.
“My quest? You’ve got a real sense of humour, brain, you really have.” He scowled, seemingly at himself, then answered in a very measured voice, “To act in the best interest of the nation, and thus, the people, of France. Oh…and possibly to become Prime Minister, but that one’s not very probable. I'd also like to go vote, if you please.” He doubted that there would be much of an office available, as even his personal ambition would not allow him to be a puppet of fascists. Then again, if he hallucinated or dreamt his way through the most important vote in his life, and possibly France’s history, he doubted there’d be much future for him outside a mental asylum.
"'What is the average w..?'" Mickey frowns down at the notebook. "You know, I don't really see why that's important." He flips a page. "'If you could be granted three wishes, what would they be?'"
“First you’re in English, now you’re changing your mind…does nobody get to the point any more?” He sighed, then realised there had actually been a real question there and not just indecision. He was rather used to people not finishing the points they had started. “Three wishes. I wish for peace. Desperately.” He sounded genuinely desperate when he said this. Life would be so much easier if peace had just remained, if they could restore it…if Europe wasn’t so intent on killing each other. “For France to be strong, free and indivisible.” Both of those were really just a wish for the Germans to decide Paris was too smoky, frivolous and too much bother and go home. “I really do wish I had another choice.” In his mind, he didn’t.
"Or," the Cat says, examining its tail with interest, "if you were a genie and someone you were trying to
give three wishes to was trying to trick you into giving him more, what would you say?"
“I’d tell him I quit, and he was the genie now. That’s what happens when you demand things you can’t have. Fate tends to trap you in your own demands. Or…as the case may be, with a talking mouse and cat.” Jean-Etienne was reasonably calm about them, because he was much more concerned with the fact he was losing his mind on the night of the most decision of his life.
Mickey looks rather nonplused at the next, but reads, "'When the revolution comes, what skills will you be able to barter for food?'"
“The revolution? We are at war, is that close enough for you, mouse?” At this question, he is distinctly angry and perhaps a little bitter, as he was not in the mood for being questioned about revolutions and conflict, especially by a mouse created by his brain. “Trying to prick my conscience, are you? I am fully aware that if there is a revolution, I will be involved, or I will be a victim of it. It has gone past bartering, I am afraid.”
The Cat rolls its eyes in a friendly (and rather disconcertingly out-of-sync) way, and asks, "Milk, dark, or white chocolate?"
Jean-Etienne gives the cat an incredulous look, “I don’t see how this is relevant, subconscious. The logic of the other questions, I could see, but…chocolate? Fine. Milk. Allez-y, allez-y.”
"'Choose the two coolest: robots, pirates, fairies, bears, ninjas, monkeys, vampires, or humans,'" says Mickey, giggling a bit as he goes through the list. "'Explain.'"
“Oui, oui, I’ve gone mad. I hope they find my body in the Garron before it starts to decompose too much.” He pulls a disgusted face, as he was only joking, but is now rather sure that the only dignified cure for this kind of inopportune madness in a public figure, would be throwing himself in a river. If only he’d just wake up. "You're not going to let me get away without answering, are you? Well, I don't know. I'm not even sure I understood the question. I'll guess at fairies and bears, but I'm not entirely sure."
"Great!" Mickey flips through the blank pages of the notebook at top, cartoon-y speed. "Well, I think that's just about it! Oh, and I'm supposed to ask, 'for your safety: are you carrying anything sharp?'"
“I doubt my carrying anything sharp would be the greatest danger to my safety right now. But, whilst you’re asking, no, I’m not. I’m starting to wish I was.”
((I bring you the park’s second politician (run away!!), Jean-Etienne Beaufort from my favourite film ever, Bon Voyage, called in places a French Casablanca (couldn’t comment as I’ve never seen the latter). Yeah, I’m a French film freak. He’s taken from the last time we see him, just before the vote on the surrender. Feel free to call him a cheese eating surrender monkey or spot that he’s actually Gerard Depardieu. He’ll be offended/baffled, but all the more fun for me. More info here This is, by they way, Bernard/Shaun/Kitty. This is the sort of thing I consider fun after writing essays comparing French Republics.))
Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"
There was an audible pause, and the minister looked at the Mouse incredulously, “Anglais?! I’m having hallucinations in English?! I really have gone mad. Can we stop this? I’m missing a very important vote here, mouse. God, subconscious, whoever, can I please just come around? Can we also go back to French?”
Nothing happened, so Jean-Etienne sighed and answered, with a hint of resignation and another hint of pride, “Jean-Etienne Beaufort, Interior Minister of the Third Republic of France. Happy?”
"What is your quest?" asks the Cat. It's perched, suddenly, on the roof of one of the gate-stiles.
“My quest? You’ve got a real sense of humour, brain, you really have.” He scowled, seemingly at himself, then answered in a very measured voice, “To act in the best interest of the nation, and thus, the people, of France. Oh…and possibly to become Prime Minister, but that one’s not very probable. I'd also like to go vote, if you please.” He doubted that there would be much of an office available, as even his personal ambition would not allow him to be a puppet of fascists. Then again, if he hallucinated or dreamt his way through the most important vote in his life, and possibly France’s history, he doubted there’d be much future for him outside a mental asylum.
"'What is the average w..?'" Mickey frowns down at the notebook. "You know, I don't really see why that's important." He flips a page. "'If you could be granted three wishes, what would they be?'"
“First you’re in English, now you’re changing your mind…does nobody get to the point any more?” He sighed, then realised there had actually been a real question there and not just indecision. He was rather used to people not finishing the points they had started. “Three wishes. I wish for peace. Desperately.” He sounded genuinely desperate when he said this. Life would be so much easier if peace had just remained, if they could restore it…if Europe wasn’t so intent on killing each other. “For France to be strong, free and indivisible.” Both of those were really just a wish for the Germans to decide Paris was too smoky, frivolous and too much bother and go home. “I really do wish I had another choice.” In his mind, he didn’t.
"Or," the Cat says, examining its tail with interest, "if you were a genie and someone you were trying to
give three wishes to was trying to trick you into giving him more, what would you say?"
“I’d tell him I quit, and he was the genie now. That’s what happens when you demand things you can’t have. Fate tends to trap you in your own demands. Or…as the case may be, with a talking mouse and cat.” Jean-Etienne was reasonably calm about them, because he was much more concerned with the fact he was losing his mind on the night of the most decision of his life.
Mickey looks rather nonplused at the next, but reads, "'When the revolution comes, what skills will you be able to barter for food?'"
“The revolution? We are at war, is that close enough for you, mouse?” At this question, he is distinctly angry and perhaps a little bitter, as he was not in the mood for being questioned about revolutions and conflict, especially by a mouse created by his brain. “Trying to prick my conscience, are you? I am fully aware that if there is a revolution, I will be involved, or I will be a victim of it. It has gone past bartering, I am afraid.”
The Cat rolls its eyes in a friendly (and rather disconcertingly out-of-sync) way, and asks, "Milk, dark, or white chocolate?"
Jean-Etienne gives the cat an incredulous look, “I don’t see how this is relevant, subconscious. The logic of the other questions, I could see, but…chocolate? Fine. Milk. Allez-y, allez-y.”
"'Choose the two coolest: robots, pirates, fairies, bears, ninjas, monkeys, vampires, or humans,'" says Mickey, giggling a bit as he goes through the list. "'Explain.'"
“Oui, oui, I’ve gone mad. I hope they find my body in the Garron before it starts to decompose too much.” He pulls a disgusted face, as he was only joking, but is now rather sure that the only dignified cure for this kind of inopportune madness in a public figure, would be throwing himself in a river. If only he’d just wake up. "You're not going to let me get away without answering, are you? Well, I don't know. I'm not even sure I understood the question. I'll guess at fairies and bears, but I'm not entirely sure."
"Great!" Mickey flips through the blank pages of the notebook at top, cartoon-y speed. "Well, I think that's just about it! Oh, and I'm supposed to ask, 'for your safety: are you carrying anything sharp?'"
“I doubt my carrying anything sharp would be the greatest danger to my safety right now. But, whilst you’re asking, no, I’m not. I’m starting to wish I was.”
((I bring you the park’s second politician (run away!!), Jean-Etienne Beaufort from my favourite film ever, Bon Voyage, called in places a French Casablanca (couldn’t comment as I’ve never seen the latter). Yeah, I’m a French film freak. He’s taken from the last time we see him, just before the vote on the surrender. Feel free to call him a cheese eating surrender monkey or spot that he’s actually Gerard Depardieu. He’ll be offended/baffled, but all the more fun for me. More info here This is, by they way, Bernard/Shaun/Kitty. This is the sort of thing I consider fun after writing essays comparing French Republics.))