At Solferino the air was full of the cries

At Solferino the air was full of the cries of the wounded and dying. Bonaparte wrote: Josephine, ma biche, I'll be back in 3 days. Don't wash. Je t'embrasse partout, Napoleon (Emp)

At the Duchess of Rochester's Ball guests were interrupted by the news that Napoleon's Army were advancing towards Brussels. Officers sad goodbyes to their wives before rushing

off to the brothels for a last hurrah before battle. Tragically for Britain, these brothels were arguably the best in Europe and the army was delayed for weeks, allowing Napoleon's

neapolitan ice cream sandwich to melt was a classic mistake. Napoleon was furious. Not only was his army delayed two weeks but now his snacky-poo was ruined. Heads would roll!

And roll they did. The surviving cooks in Napoleons personal mess tent knew they had to come up with a dish worthy of the generals Grande vision. An eclair shaped like his hat?

Or maybe a cake the size of Napoleon himself? That shouldn't be too hard to make. One, two layers at most. The cooks scurry about, gathering the ingredients to prepare the masterpi

-ece, however they were somehow fresh out of Obama's tears. "Guess we'll have to fix that," I decided, getting onto the first flight to England.

The airport was fogged in and the flight was detoured to Gothamshire. This town was not on the map I carried. It was 1000 plus years old and I drank from the well. A gnome was

watching me closely and coughed a remark about the fog. "Harmless.", I told the gnome, but I obviously disagreed. The little town of Gothamshire hadn't much to offer and now that

I have this pesky gnome to take care of, it's been impossible to go nearly anywhere. This town is very discriminative against gnomes. You can't take them anywhere!