Another nice scarf game to play if you can't sleep at night is the active aggressive one. For example, you might imagine you spent the day hunting in the woods near Paris ....
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| Chasse au Bois |
..... minding your own business .......
..... the birds are singing .....
Alas, there are others doing the same thing!
We are after the same fox - but the other chap's dog gets carried away and starts to argue with my dog, and of course I try to separate them, and then the wretch bites me, and I hit his master, because after all I can't hurt the dog, being soft hearted and all, and the other chap hits me back, and I say, 'how dare you, hitting a small weak defenseless little female,' and so the guy starts laughing, and I take offense, and I shout, 'Tomorrow at dawn at the Bois du Bologne, bring a doctor, and prove you are a man!'
More laughter. 'Women don't fight duels,' exclaims mine enemy. 'Not so,' quoth I, 'have you forgotten about the Countess de Polignac and Marquise de Nesle, who fought a duel over their mutual lover, the Duke de Richelieu? Prepare to die, you ugly wart on a salamander's tongue!'
At this he shuts up.
When Eos ushers in her dawn the following morning, we are both cold in every sense of the word, assume positions, and off we go.
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| Traite des Armes |
I almost have him at my mercy, and prepare for the Coup de Grace,
when there is an interruption. The chap's mother had heard about our dual, and frightened - I assume - for my life, she sent a message to the great Emperor himself, beseeching him to end the duel.
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| Lettre de Napoléon a Murat d'après Caran D'Ache |
Napoleon, always considerate of mothers, sends a messenger; however, I refuse to stop and shoot at the messenger to scare him off.
The ninny goes back to Napoleon to complain, and the man himself shows up on a white horse, acting all imperial.
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| Napoleon |
That really gets my goat, so I invoke my old friend Fritz, who is visiting from Sans Souci.
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| Sans Souci |
The turncoat sides with Napoleon!
Now I am really angry, and I play my trump card:
No one, but no one, messes with the owner of a nuclear submarine!
While they are all cowering under a gooseberry-bush, I strut about feeling superior and invincible.
Eventually my enemies are getting cold, and it is way past their lunch time, so they telephone the UN asking for a negotiator, who duly arrives.
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| 50th Anniversary UN |
He speaks to me in dulcet tones, so I relent and go away in my submarine, up the Seine and on to new adventures, while my vanquished enemies go home for their afternoon nursery tea.
The moral of the story is, don't mess with me - I can out-scarf any accessorising enemy!
