Napoleon Bonaparte had always been an outcast. As far as he knew, anyways.

He had never been friends with anyone. No one ever invited him any place. Battles and war strategy night didn't count. He could have friends if he really wanted to-supposing he struck terror and morbid fear into all the people he met...

But no. Napoleon didn't want that. He just wanted to be a normal, average dude, with normal, average, friends. Cool, non?

However, it didn't end up working this way for Nippy. Year after year, day after day, the same thing always happened. He got stuck on the outs, a very cold place to be, indeed. Napoleon couldn't grasp the concept of his lack of popularity. He was a notorious general after all! Surely someone out there would delight in his friendship.

But alas! It was no use. After he had phoned everyone, in all different countries, he ended up turning to poor Ivan the Terrible. He would resign himself to calling Ivan. Napoleon wanted to puke at the thought of calling him. Ivan the Terrible was not exactly the pinochle of popularity. He was, in fact, very uncultured, unmannerly, and most certainly not French!

Besides the fact, Ivan could barely grumble out a few words in conversation. Not to mention the unpleasant, distasteful smell protruding from his ratty outer garments. Napoleon felt outraged at this dastardly abomination. He couldn't bear to resign himself to another tedious game of Risk with that unkept kook. After all, he smelt like graciously rotten fromage! Certainly not a very ideal situation.

Napoleon was worried. How would he possibly brush off Ivan without looking like a complete imbecile? It was supposed to be their game night.

Just then, when little Nippy thought all hope was lost, bzzzrk! His cell phone rang with a promising little buzz. It was a text. It was from his cool friend, Deacon! Napoleon rolled his eyes dramatically. Sucre bleu. What does he want?

He flicked the text onto the screen. It said:

hey napoleon, hope ur not busy tonite cuz were all goin to ziggy piggy. it would be cool if u were there bro! its the best place in town!

-D

p.s its where all the COOL ppl hang out so be there or be a FRENCH square XD

Napoleon read this last part semi-annoyed. Well, he most certainly was not going to be known as a square! He was already known as being tiny, short, and petit! He wanted to put the past behind him. Napoleon pursed his lips as he excruciatingly typed out a few word script in response:

I'll be there you little PET (("Fart" in French.))

Napoleon snickered in juvenile delight. He paused for effect, then pushed the send icon. He was delighted. He was delighted at the fact he was actually invited to go to some place, 'cool,' and that naive American man boy would be none the wiser on his fabulous French vocabulary. He should know better than to insult a powerful Frenchman such as himself.

He felt powerful. Victorious. Better than the time that he fought in the battle of Austerlitz. Now- he felt so much happiness.

He was finally going to be recognized as Napoleon Bona-party-in-a-body. And Ivan would have to play tea party with his little sister.