Once upon a time in a land far, far away to the West, beyond the great plains and the rocky mountain tops, further than the eye can see, behind the line where the sun sets and the moon rises, there lived a little French boi called hungryfrenchy. In this land of love flowing with milk and honey, hungryfrenchy was spending a warm summer day with his compadre Gabito by the bbq. Alas, in an excess of zeal, Gabito decided to cook a delicious steak, thereby bringing down the wrath of the local vegan witch:
"Young man, I have been watching you sear that ribeye,
A despicable act, what a joke this best guy,
You dare fancy yourself as a great cook, how smug,
Well my sweet child, let's see how you fare as a slug!"
The witch raised her celery wand and cast a powerful spell on poor Gabito, turning him into an adorable little green slug. She laughed loud and long and clear, and turned to hungryfrenchy:
"French boi, your friend was an Aquarius,
But now his sign will be the lettuce.
He won't hurt a sentient being again,
His cruel days are gone, pop the champagne!
Which reminds me, I haven't had breakfast,
And I hear French pastries are a must.
Find me the best croissant in the Bay
I will reverse the curse straight away!"
And just like that, the wicked vegan witch disappeared. So, hungryfrenchy embarked on an epic journey, in search of the best croissant in the kingdom. He looked left and right, there and back again, but all the pastries he collected tasted stale and dry. Malheur! Pauvre Gabito! Was he to stay a slug forever? Hungryfrenchy cried tears of despair, and as he was about to give up, he smelled an aroma that awoke something in him he had not felt since he was a wee child. Fragrant and welcoming, like wrapping yourself in a freshly washed, warm blanket and sitting by the fireplace while the gentle snow is falling outside. A cello singing his vibrato in a cathedral of ancient oak trees. The scent of grass after the first dew of Spring. Impossible. Could it be? What was this modest inn? "Fournée Bakery," a sign read. Hungryfrenchy entered and his gaze fell upon a basket of golden croissants, baked by Gaia herself. A gift from the Divine to us humble mortals. The boy had just one bite, and all the petty worries of life suddenly went away. He saw his grandmother smiling, like she used to do every afternoon after lunch. "Mange un croissant," she used to say. And so he did. Was he dreaming? Did it matter? The tears of despair had become tears of love and an ode to Joy. The overwhelmed french boi could barely stand on his feet, but he found the strength to summon the witch and hand her a croissant from the Fournée inn. And just like that, the witch smiled and nodded, in a state of bliss.
"French boi, wow, I must say I am impressed,
You were never meant to complete this quest,
But against all odds, you have delivered
A croissant fit for a queen! Rest assured,
Your homeboy is no longer my plaything.
Very well, enough games, no more jesting.
Hocus Pocus, little slug, now begone!
Ouch, this might sting just a little, hang on..."
And just like that, the curse was lifted, and gabo and hungryfrenchy lived happily ever after.
VERDICT: Fournée, c'est le temps retrouvé. read more