You walk on down the only road you’ve ever known, like a hobo you have learned to live alone.
Like a black cat covered in soot leaping from the shadows of a dark cave, at night during an eclipse, when you have your blind eyes shut and blindfolded, leaping from the trees come a troop of Frenchies!, there must be at least 14 of them! They rapidly spread out so that you can only see three of them.
You want to run, you want to hide, you want to tear down the walls that hold you inside.
You feel that there are too many to take on in a straight fight so perhaps you may be able to fudge your way through the situation.
The second thought that crosses your mind is Frenchies?, in Germany?, who would have thought such a thing?
The rotund ugly one on the left who seems to be in charge comes forward and says
‘Bonjour, c'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, c'est un mon plus vif regret que mes associés et moi-même trouvent nous-mêmes dans cette terre étrangère et sont tombé sur des périodes difficiles, je ne supposent pas que vous pourriez nous faire une vraie faveur et nous donner quelques directions à la maison d'entraîneur la plus proche et nous prêter quelques pièces de monnaie pour une tasse de café et d'un croissant?
Do you