Re: What's your funniest forum moment?

[Gardian]

Meanwhile, Salmonescia was packing her bags.

She had resigned from Eurostar, largely as a result of an unhappy episode over the service of the Tarte aux Pommes to a slightly tipsy Englishman.

A change of scene was needed. Where to?    

[Cendrillon]

Now Salmonescia has an idea, a holiday, that's what she needs and why not go to that island, what's it called? Ile de Ré, that was the one mentioned when she last saw P-Y. Now there's a good idea, he is such a charming man and wouldn't it be wonderful if she could meet him again.

[britgirl]

Collette was sat at her dressing table. For the last few days she and P-Y had totally relaxed on the Ile de Re. There had been no talk of work until now, the warm weather was very good, but Mama had always said that it was one's duty to look after ones' self. Idly she rubbed body lotion into her arms. Zut alors was there a sign of the dreaded Ailes de bingo. Surely not.

P-Y was always a gentleman and was at this moment in the 'en-suite' bathroom attending to his toillette. He was talking away, and as always when work was mentioned, Collette tended not to listen.

BUT wait what was that name 'Pont de Truit'? Where had she heard it before. Why was it familiar? She racked her brains. She suddenly remembered!! She shook with horror as she recalled when she and Jon had been together and he spoke of this ship.  What could this mean?

P-Y entered the bedroom and saw his wife shiver as she looked at him in the mirror. Ahh, he thought tonight.........[:D]

 

[Cendrillon]

Salamanca (is that her name?) had meanwhile caught the TVG to La Rochelle and from there would take the Ré bus to the Ile de Ré. St Martin looked a nice place perhaps she could find a little hotel there.

[just john]

The agency had given her a list of possible opportunities for immediate weekend working to combine business with pleasure, if only she could find the right one; Fortunately she recognised P-Y entering the first hotel on the list, dapper he may but he was distinctly recognisable and he still owed her. The interview was perfunctory, '' your accommodation is in the external cabin, here is your uniform, you could start right away by calling at all the rooms to turn their beds down, don't forget to ask if they require anything from room service before you leave''.

Collette slipped her silk muslin dressing gown in the Lafayette design over her matching Lafayette silk nightdress to answer the knock at the door . . .  ''Yes . . .

 

 

 

 

[mint]

Poor P-Y....all these changes of location and these different names lobbed into the plot have unsettled him.

He now thinks fondly of Lossiemoot; at least it is an empty sort of a place and, whilst there, he was in no danger of being dérangé by raddish-weilding Poles, large Albanian ladies or even by Colette.  Not only that, he found the Scottish people strangely comprehensible, unlike les anglais.  They call Bordeaux "Borrdeaux" which, to his ears, do not grate as much as when they are assaulted by an English accent.

Then, there is the matter of their cattle.  What do they call them?  Aberrdeen Angoos?  They look like cattle from the Limousin to him and he has quite enjoyed their bifteks.  Their frites are also perfectly edible and he has developed a penchant for their special dessert which consists of a chocolate bar (oh, the name of this special chocolate bar evades him) dipped in a pâte and fried!  Delicieux!

How well he remembers ze 'aggees, just like boudin blanc and, if only l'arome were more like that of andouillettes, he would have happily eaten them everyday.

Now he's been to Londres, Ashforr, Watayloo and ......oh la la, his brain can no longer cope with all these foreign names.  As for the Carrier, who was it at that high security meeting who had suggested "Enterprise " (or was it "Entreprise" and laughed about French entrepreneurs and what sounded like Star Ships)  They have a funny sense of humour, these anglais.....

But, how did he find himself back in Vendée?  He HATED the place when he lived there. 

And I can smell burning from the kitchen.....excusez moi![:'(] 

[Cendrillon]

Confusion over, the Ile de Ré is in the Charente- Maritime (just!)[:)]

[mint]

Does it count when it is in the sea?  Or at least the sea was in it?  No, no, of course that is NOT a joke but this thread is NOT real life.

[Cendrillon]

Yes it does count as being in 17 otherwise it might be listed with the Dom-Tom[;-)]

O.K. back to the story now folks and never mind the technicalities.

Having answered the door she is surprised to see someone run off down the corridor, a rather large lady who looks remarkably like the stewardess on the Eurostar journey. Colette is feeling totally overwhelmed and decides she should book herself into a local Thalasso therapy centre for a few soins.

[just john]

P-Y did hate the Vendee, that is why he had chosen the Ile de Ré, because it is one of the jewels of the Atlantic Coast,
(It seemed unreal his luck should allow him his little pleasures, not a joke, nor real life; how lucky was he!
How quickly I have lost the thread of this tapestry of intrigue.[:P])
in the department of Charente-Maritime . . . and because it is very flat, so that discovery of its ten villages in the time honoured french way of cycling around would not only not cause him to tire himself for the main business of the weekend but also not need him to break a sweat, thus ruining his immaculately tailored slacks, furthermore he knew whilst Collette also enjoyed this kind of exercise as opposed to the other kind she would probably talk incessantly, but not about anything important, thus enabling him to relax, admire the scenery and should they find an appropriate auberge indulge in a reasonable lunch.
Their Hotel  in the quiet village of Le Bois Plage, on the west coast, was a mere 20 minutes by bicycle from St Martin where curiously Jude Cornwell had recommended a marvellous little place called ''Potani Poppadom'', Three hours should do it, if they set off at say onze heure they should be ready for lunch by twelve and they could stop off at the beach for a walk afterwards and be back to the Hotel for an apero, he had finished his toilette and would discuss his plans with Colette, as he came out of the bathroom he froze to see her facing Salmonescia at the door!

Colette gently shut the door, turning to face P-Y. ''I'm sure there's something burning in the kitchens'' she said passively

''You look edible in pink'' he said, coldly quivering, Mon dieu was there no escape from his past . . . .

[Gardian]

P-Y sat at the small hotel bar, taking an early evening apero with the proprietor.

His name was Sebastién and their common interest was the French Navy. Well, that wasn’t strictly true, in fact it wasn’t true at all: it was just that P-Y had been lumbered with the task of agreeing (amongst other things) the new name for the Franco-Anglais carrier.

Sebastién was a former matelot: in fact he had been Maitre Principal on the Foch, a ship which was now turning up as cheap imported razor blades from Taiwan. Seb looked a bit like Captain Birdseye and spoke French with a similar accent. “Business is baaad: too foo tourists and those that come don’t spend any money”. “It’s not helped by thaat idiotic Taxe de Sejour that’s administered by those petty-minded cretins”.

P-Y gulped. It took him back to the day when that smart-alec Anglais had challenged his sense in levying the State’s rightful dues.

“Can’t get the staff either”, said Seb. “Got a new one the other day though”. “Called Salmonella, or something like that – funny ……….. says she knows you”.

P-Y gulped again – he did a lot of gulping these days.

“Ah here she comes now”, said Cap’n Birdseye. “You can sort out whether you really do know each other, eh?”

[Cendrillon]

"ah put**n" mutters P-Y, "am I never going to be rid of this fille?"

Salmonescia is studying him very hard . P-Y looks down at his lap only to find to his horror that he has left his braguette undone.[:$] The expression défense de se pencher au dehors flashes through his mind.[:$]

[Cendrillon]

Salmonescia is getting bored with all these different disguises. She is really employed as a secret agent and needs to get some vital information from Pierre-Yves. How is she going to get him on his own and extract the military secrets?

[mint]

Well then, she has a problem on her hands, hasn't she?  Like most men he thinks that, just because a woman pays him some attention, she must be interested in his body!

The fool!!![;-)]  Whilst he's trying to dodge her and she's trying to get him into a corner, we have stalemate!

Meanwhile the little idyll at the Ile de Ré  is almost at an end.  Time to drive back to, where was it?  Paris, Clermont Ferrand?  Oh, anywhere will do really as long as it isn't the Vendée and not Guyana.

P-Y has indeed been shaken and not merely stirred and any resemblance to James Bond's martini is purely incidental.  How is he to know that he is now caught up in a game of military secrets?

OK, who's going to tell him?  Any offers?

[Cendrillon]

Seeing that this game is going nowhere fast Salmonescia takes her bicyclette bleue (we all know that story don't we?)  for one last ride around the island.

Later that night she packs her suitcase ready to leave at the crack of dawn to travel to Clermont Ferrand where she will  lie in wait for P-Y .

[just john]

How could anyone resist a challenge from you Sweet, well anybody with any brains might, Oh Pas problem as un ecrivaillon I'm excellently qualified then.[:D]

Like most men P-Y thinks that, anytime a woman pays him any attention, she can only be interested in his body, after all hadn't she proved it last time! and of course continuing to confirm it by conspiring to appear constantly.
Well he's used to steelier opponents and didn't get where he is today by not going where others fear to tread!
If she's trying to get him into a corner, he would face her down, damn her a s s pidestra! and while the little idyll at the Ile de Ré  is almost at an end. . . There is always Time for a Tryst.

P-Y has indeed been shaken and not merely stirred, a few martini's later he finds himself strolling around the external cabin, unable to see through the grubby nappe vichy curtained windows, he's not aware that Salmonella had spotted him and was even now approaching him from the rear having already checked the coast was clear.

''Pierre, I do believe we have some unfinished business''

''Mon oeuil I veery muuch regret Modome that is no longer possible to continue in this vein, especially in this uncontrolled manner, you must understand in future I will only be available by prior rendevous. Here's my personal card with my private number if you care to text me a contact number I'm sure we can arrange lunch and discuss any future arrangements.''

'Bien Sur Pierre' things can only get easier thought a relieved Sal, as she watched P-Y make his way back to the hotel, where Collette had viewed the assignation from the suite fenetre.

[mint]

Ah ha! so the worm has a mistress!  Colette, in true Française mode, is not unduly perturbed.  She glances down at her own svelte figure, even slimmer now that she's been on the Dukan diet for several weeks.

Bof, that Albanienne is a verritable hippopotamus compared to herself!  Maman has schooled Colette from an early age on how to stay desirable and attractive to the opposite sex.

True, the years have taken their toll on even someone on as strict a régime as Collette.  What are these little dimples on her inner thighs?Orange peel,  cellulite?  Mais non, she has read the book "French Women Don't Get Fat" and Colette knows that all that is required is that she smokes more Gaulloises, drink more coffee and eat less food.  C'est bien simple, n'est ce pas?

More than ever now, her mind reverts to her cher rosbif, Jon.  She acknowledges that comparison is odious so she consciously declines to compare the bedroom techniques of le francais, (sorry, cannot load Type French Characters) Pierre-Yves and l'anglais, Jon.

This is the Prime of Madame Colette Pompadour de Frou Frou and she intends to make the most of herself whilst time is still on her side.  She hatches and idea........ 

[Gardian]

And so, dear readers, we move inexorably to the denouement, sordid and lamentable as it may well turn out to be. Who knows how this story will end?

Guyana - Paris - Clermont Ferrand - Lossiemouth - Waterloo - Ashforr1 - Ashforr2 - Vendee (in error!) - Ile de Re.  It's been like the Tour de France, but without artificial stimulants.

Now, two weeks and one day on, P-Y sat virtually alone in the dank restaurant of the Hotel de Commerce in Clermont Ferrand. It had been a difficult Friday evening. Fridays, Fridays.  He always had Caillettes Sauce Tomates on Fridays. He loved the way that Colette did them: just browned a bit, with a slightly piquant sauce followed by  .............. , but we digress.

Clermont Ferrand. Think of Vienna in the 1960's  - the centre of European mystery and espionage. Fast forward half a century and there you have C-F.  A veritable hotbed of intrigue.

Colette had stated unequivocally that she had her own rendezvous tonight and that P-Y could see to his own boullettes. Thus P-Y found himself in this mausoleum of despair, with only a holiday-making Dutch family disturbing the peace in the other corner.

Just then, a flurry of activity. It couldn't be the waiter: he was, as most of the Anglais would often put it, "needing of a red hot poker in his nether regions". Must be something else. What .............. ???     

 

 

[Cendrillon]

Salmonescia glides (think here "Stately as a Galleon")  into the restaurant and seeing P-Y sitting alone and looking somewhat forlorn decides to join him.

Knowing that Colette is safely engaged elsewhere P-Y sees the perfect opportunity to talk to this woman, once and for all. You can almost hear the Harry Lime theme (music from The Third Man)  playing in the background.[;-)]

[Gardian]

Salmonescia's recruitment in to the Albanian Secret Service had taken place years before. There had been times when she thought that her moment would never come.

Now, here in CF, the time was nigh. She pulled out an adjacent chair and fixed P-Y in the eyes.

"Vell, my little schnitzel, it has come to zees". (If there any Albanians on the Forum, could they please help with the correct accent?) 

 

[just john]

If Google Translate is to be believed, a kind of staccato Russian Turkish!

Type into Translate, and play translation (http://translate.google.com/#auto|sq|''Pierre%2C%20I%20do%20believe%20we%20have%20some%20unfinished%20business''

 

[Cendrillon]

"Vell, my little schnitzel, it has come to zees".

"Why not come up to my room, I 'ave something to show you" Salmonescia leads P-Y quietly up the stairs.

It is a dark and cold night outside, Colette has other fish to fry and P-Y feels in need of a little tlc.[;-)]

[mint]

You mean Colette isn't going to fry the piranha from Tiranha?  I'm confused now.....what feesh then?

[Cendrillon]

un poisson anglais sans doute!

We forgot to mention that Jon has found himself in Clermont-Ferrand for the w/end and arranged to meet Colette behind the church, after dark. Colette finds this exciting and a bit like being in the résistance.

[Rose]

[quote user="just john "]

Type into Translate, and play translation (http://translate.google.com/#auto|sq|''Pierre%2C%20I%20do%20believe%20we%20have%20some%20unfinished%20business''

 [/quote]

sorry to disturb the flow... but am I the only one who actually did this [:$]