Time to put on the tin foil hats again...

Time to put on the tin foil hats again... the French are voting!

Now we all know that the Americans voted last year...so if Americans are people who vote, and the French are currently voting, that means the french ARE AMERICAN. Hooray for logic.

Meanwhile, the French prepared to revolt. Square plastic bits of cheese-like goop did not count as cheese. American cheese was an abomination which would not be tolerated.

(Except, of course, by the lactose intolerant, because it contains no actual milk.) Antoine grabbed the American cheese by the cellophane and shook it hard. "Merde!" he exclaimed.

"Merde means shite," said Antione's daughter Ana. "Wow, you spoke French, I'm so ... proud of you, sweetie." "Cut the condescending crap. Make me a grilled cheese sammich."

"What the merde is a sammich?" Antione retorted. "Child, I'm your mother, not your maid." Ana harrumphed indignantly and crossed her arms. "But maman!" she pouted, "I'm hungry!"

Antione turned her face and Antigone faced her daughter down. Then she signaled the kitchens to release the maids with only a small cut on the throat. If any of the maids had a 7th

pimple on their backs they would certainly be shunned by society regardless. Antione carefully reached into her pocket, making sure she didn't break eye contact with her daughter.

She pulled out a blister pack of tetracycline, an adequate acne-busting antibiotic that didn't rise to the Clostridium-killing potency she had wanted, and gave it to her daughter.