The Remarkable Franco-German Friendship (2b/?)
anonymous
March 1 2010, 18:32:26 UTC
So, as I was―ahem―saying, I was standing, completely and perfectly fine in front of Prussia, who was neither completely nor perfectly fine (in his head), nor that this was anything unusual, mind you, and I was looking down on him and he was, well. Looking up, sort of, I guess. If it hadn't been for his eyes constantly wandering around and I tell you that was even more irksome than the usual freak show he puts on. Considering Prussia is the subject of talk that means a lot, you know. Have you ever seen a man as batshit crazy as Prussia staring up at you, peeling? Oui? No? If non, then you absolutely, no matter what you do, must not see that. Ever. It's nightmare fuel, I tell you, peering red eyes like that combined with drool dripping down the corner of a mouth whose lips are pulled up into the parody of an irritated smirk, that's the stuff America makes his films of. (And just another of the many reasons why I find them lacking in taste and style but that's beside the point.)
Prussia's dreadful sight is so repulsing that I find myself―in spite of knowing better, sacrebleu―saying, "Chéri, you are drooling all over yourself, it is a menace to the state of my mind and an insult to my eyes," which is immediately followed by your mandatory sniff. It makes for a great effect, really. You should try that out yourself if you haven't already.
Oh, and are you dead yet, is what I want to say, too, but don't as I, unlike Prussia, actually am in the most honorable possession of something called common sense, which is, contrary to popular belief, no invention of les catholiques to spoil the fun. Wait, what fun you ask? Are you kidding me? No, no, no. If you don't know then you don't want to know. Trust me on that. I mean, alone the fact you have to ask proves enough of your innocence in my books and shame (which does exist,faintly, in my vocabulary if only because I burrowed it from Angleterre and have yet to return it on occasion) be upon my fine piece of a… I mean, shame be upon my tormented, forever suffering, damned bla you know the drill bla soul.
Although God is clearly in favor of me―and I cannot blame him because where else do you dine like a god if not in Paris―his… uh… his 'fan' club is not. Most of the time. Broadly spoken. They would love to see me burn in hell, je pense. Still sore about all that secularization stuff a couple of a hundred years ago but mais no, what can you do! It was Napoleon who came up with the plan, not me. (No, no, no, don't look at me like that! C'est vrai, I had nothing to do with it! … For once.)
Merde. I am doing it again, digressing, I mean. Why don't you interrupt me―oh but of course! Forgive me, I was not thinking very hard. I don't blame you, if I were you I wouldn't want to interrupt such a magnifique being as myself either. Have you ever seen someone else producing such melodious music with every word that softly falls from his lips? Have you ever seen someone else who has the sun in his smile and the stars in his eyes? Have you ever seen someone draped in elegance, wearing haute couture like a second skin?
You probably haven't. No, I'm fairly certain you haven't, sans la probabilité. I'm unique, after all. Can't blame you if you are drawn to my lips with every essence of your being. I was created to be that way and do these kind of things to you and your lot, see.
Ha! I wish Germany would do that too. From time to time, you know, and not only when he… which reminds me… there is a story to tell, non? Time surely goes by fast when you are not paying any attention.
So, where was I? Give me a little time to recollect my thoughts and I will tell you―naturalmente―Prussia―I was telling you of Prussia, was I not? Oui, oui. I was telling you of Prussia. Back to Prussia, then, it is.
(Why have I began with Prussia in the first place I wonder when I wanted to tell you about myself―err, Germany and myself… oh damn it, back to Prussia now. Sheesh.)
Prussia's dreadful sight is so repulsing that I find myself―in spite of knowing better, sacrebleu―saying, "Chéri, you are drooling all over yourself, it is a menace to the state of my mind and an insult to my eyes," which is immediately followed by your mandatory sniff. It makes for a great effect, really. You should try that out yourself if you haven't already.
Oh, and are you dead yet, is what I want to say, too, but don't as I, unlike Prussia, actually am in the most honorable possession of something called common sense, which is, contrary to popular belief, no invention of les catholiques to spoil the fun. Wait, what fun you ask? Are you kidding me? No, no, no. If you don't know then you don't want to know. Trust me on that. I mean, alone the fact you have to ask proves enough of your innocence in my books and shame (which does exist,faintly, in my vocabulary if only because I burrowed it from Angleterre and have yet to return it on occasion) be upon my fine piece of a… I mean, shame be upon my tormented, forever suffering, damned bla you know the drill bla soul.
Although God is clearly in favor of me―and I cannot blame him because where else do you dine like a god if not in Paris―his… uh… his 'fan' club is not. Most of the time. Broadly spoken. They would love to see me burn in hell, je pense. Still sore about all that secularization stuff a couple of a hundred years ago but mais no, what can you do! It was Napoleon who came up with the plan, not me. (No, no, no, don't look at me like that! C'est vrai, I had nothing to do with it! … For once.)
Merde. I am doing it again, digressing, I mean. Why don't you interrupt me―oh but of course! Forgive me, I was not thinking very hard. I don't blame you, if I were you I wouldn't want to interrupt such a magnifique being as myself either. Have you ever seen someone else producing such melodious music with every word that softly falls from his lips? Have you ever seen someone else who has the sun in his smile and the stars in his eyes? Have you ever seen someone draped in elegance, wearing haute couture like a second skin?
You probably haven't. No, I'm fairly certain you haven't, sans la probabilité. I'm unique, after all. Can't blame you if you are drawn to my lips with every essence of your being. I was created to be that way and do these kind of things to you and your lot, see.
Ha! I wish Germany would do that too. From time to time, you know, and not only when he… which reminds me… there is a story to tell, non? Time surely goes by fast when you are not paying any attention.
So, where was I? Give me a little time to recollect my thoughts and I will tell you―naturalmente―Prussia―I was telling you of Prussia, was I not? Oui, oui. I was telling you of Prussia. Back to Prussia, then, it is.
(Why have I began with Prussia in the first place I wonder when I wanted to tell you about myself―err, Germany and myself… oh damn it, back to Prussia now. Sheesh.)
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