Louisette: Emile, 'ow do you like my new dress?
Emile: Ah, très parisien! In other words, eet ees perfection!
Louisette: Merci, mon petit lemon. I weesh we could go to Paris right now.
Observe as I snap my fingers. >Snap!<
Emile: Et voilà!
Louisette: Ze city of lights, we are really 'ere! Emile, you are a genius!
Emile: Oui, I know.
Louisette: Look, we even 'ave musicians to serenade us.
Emile: Mon Dieu, not zose two.
Louisette: Now, now, Emile. Zey are good girls.
Emile: Bof, zey put pine cones in my shoes ze ozzer day.
Neverzeless, we are in Paris and nozzing can ruin zat for us.
Emile: Come, mon chéri, let us 'ave tea at zis charming café.
Louisette: Don't look now, but zat rude Italian waiter is coming over 'ere.
Emile: Sacré bleu, we cannot get reed of heem! 'e ees like ze bad centime.
2 comments:
Lol poor Emile, he was having such a good dream until that pesky italian waiter appeared.
I'll say one thing for Emile he does dream in glorious technicolour!
How wonderful to go to Paris in a minute! This is indeed a miracle, it's magic!
I love those little instruments...
It seems there is always some little Italian to annoy you while in a parisian daydream...
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