The Empire Writes Back
Mr Woldy
Summer Trips to Calais
WHEN I was a nipper, it was the norm for your school to organise a little school trip to France in order to spice up the academic lives of the sproglets who inhabit the corridors and classrooms and junior schools.
School trips Woldy style
I shall now go on to describe events which, at the hands of despotic frenchmen, I am sure we have all experienced. If you are of a sensitive disposition, stop reading now.
Year 7, French trip. 2001.
Calais, gateway of Paris. Picture if you will; a small group of excited school children, looking forward to the week ahead, eating sandwiches on a bus whilst being hurtled down the most ill-conceived transport connection in British History, the Channel tunnel.
After a short trip, we arrive in Calais, and before embarking on a road trip of northern France, find ourselves stopped at a services station in order to buy cheap sweets and void our bowels.
Speak to some people in French they said. It will be good practise they said.
Our ambitious linguists with the encouragements of their teachers approach a couple of individuals employed at the services station, cleaners if my memory serves, and pitch the simple question: quelle heure est-il.
The response?*
PCHAH!, Said I. Very rude, very rude indeed. The merciless shattering of infantile ambition and self confidence was bound to have dangerous repercussions. And those repercussions have manifested themselves here.
Our faces after the Affront
So, as representative of the British Empire through my position of King of the eUK, I have written the following response:
Salut ! Quelle heure est-il ? Je vais vous le dire. Il est temps que vous remettiez Calais aux Anglais. Cette région aété ajoutée à notre empire et le roi Woldy 1er ne vous considère plus apte à gérer cette région. Il réclame à nouveau la France (ou du moins une partie) comme possession pour son royaume. Merci, eUK.
Thanks for reading!
HM Woldy I,
OBE, KCVS, MC, HRH.
To apply for the ‘Woldy’s Young Achievers’ Scheme, simply pop your name in this thread on our external forums:
http://tinyurl.com/WoldWelcomes
*Based on true events: any familiarity between people depicted and real life persons is entirely intentional and the author only hopes that by disseminating stereotypes such as garlic eating frogs-leg munching stinky brothel visiting beret wearing buffoons (whose uncouth and derisive manner of handling citizens of his Majesties Commonwealth must be put to an end), he can cause as much offence as possible.
Comments
inb4 strange women lying in ponds is no basis for a system of government
You forgot the cheese eating surrender monkeys' stereotype ;p
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GS_1bzaj2fw : )
IN BOB WE TRUST.
This affront to nature must be stopped Jimbo, take arms
I did, your grace, to the tune of 40 million of yon influence!
cCc Guillaume le Conquérant of the Kingdom of France & England cCc xdxd
That makes less sense than BigAnt's fashion sense.
God saves the Queer indeed : (
oh ye of little faith
What's the unladen airspeed velocity of a swallow?
African or European?
On my school trip to France in Year 8, we stopped off to get some food in a small French town somewhere in Normandy. We hadn't really had much communication with the natives before this, so we were excited when our teachers told us to go and talk to the locals and order food by ourselves. We had no idea of the hell they were sending us to.
Me and my best friend went to a chip shop because British and spent about 20 minutes waiting to be served. The owner had already zeroed in on us being British, thanks to some of our classmates beating us to the shop, and was serving every French person that he could before he could no longer find a reason to ignore us.
We ordered our food and he sent us on our way. The experience wasn't too unpleasant, until he stopped my friend and said to him "Votre mère est un chien", which translates to "Your mother is a dog". My friend didn't know a damn word of French, but after spending a little while figuring it out, I managed to translate it.
To this day, it is the only sentence that stuck with me from seven years of French lessons.
lol 🙂 votre mere est un chien 🙂 they really like the english people in normandy, obviously 🙂
thanks for sharing, we can get through this
only thing I learnt on my year 7 trip to france was the game 'man on waterloo bridge' played on the channel tunnel across 😛
after we chose them to be the first place freed by us in 1944 and all....
tic tac vote that
xD
rofl
Excellent article Mr Woldy!!.Voted,shouted,subed!!.
I studied German at school, but I feel your pain your Majesty o7
Strength and Honour
o7
o7
Death to the Frogs!
nicely done.
I was in Quebec once and this elderly couple started speaking to me in Francais. I was like Je ne parle Francais which in retrospect was incorrect since I spoke it just then but they got the hint and left me alone.
I was in Quebec once and when store clerks started talking to me they realized by my blank stare that I didn't speak French and then they used English.
I thought I was a great linguist being able to understand a french TV show.... I then realised it was 'Ello, Ello'
Channel Tunnel? Luxury!!!* Try the same journey on a bloody cross-Channel ferry, and arrive in Calais slightly green about the gills!!! [c.1983]
*mild Monty Python reference
Best sketch ever made, that
'Cross channel ferry!!!! In my day we had to swim to Frogland pulling the of the class behind us ...and be thankful for it .
o7
Hahahahah brilliant
LOOOOOOOOOOOOL
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