Brittnay was walking down the corridor when she spotted her favourite Montrealian, Saison Marguerite.
"Hey cunt, why aren't you all over Blaine's face, smoochin' all willy-nilly?!" said Brittnay.
"Oh bonjour, Brittnay, I am sorry, but I had to get my, how-do-you-say, staplér?" Saison Marguerite replied, "and anyway, I was more interestéd in the idea of a, how-do-you-say, ménage-au-troi, because I think you are really bonne, Brittnay."
"Again, why. The fuck. Do you say. How-d—Bonne? You think I am bonne? Oh, nobody has ever said that to me.. You stupid Montrealian."
"Oh yes, all the time since the third grade, when you denounced Rachel Tice when she ate a roly-polý in the sandbóx. When you showed me the strength of your will, and the power you had on the, how-do-you-say, playground. It was love on the first sight, because I had just gotten to the school for the first time since I left the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France, my home town, where I was born and raised."
And then they smooched all willy-nilly.
The End.