Little Debbie was told by her drunk uncle that French hens are “like regular hens, except they all wear berets and eat baguettes.”
Little Debbie loved the sound of French hens.
For years Little Debbie asked her parents if they could go to France, so she could see some French hens.
They always told Little Debbie that they couldn’t afford it.
One day, Little Debbie illegally snuck her way onto a Eurostar train from London King’s Cross to Paris, hiding in the toilets the whole way.
When the train arrived in France Little Debbie hitch-hiked to the south of the country.
After several days travelling, Little Debbie met a friendly farmer who took her to see his hens.
As they arrived on the friendly farmer’s land, Little Debbie was bursting with excitement.
Little Debbie and the friendly farmer headed straight the hen house.
The friendly farmer opened the door and Little Debbie was absolutely gutted.
In front of Little Debbie sat three French hens.
None of them were wearing berets.
None of them were eating baguettes.
Little Debbie cursed her uncle for lying to her with, what was quite clearly, now she thought about it, a horrible stereotype.
I’m such an idiot, thought Little Debbie.
Little Debbie looked at the three French hens again.
To be fair, even without their berets and baguettes, they were pretty cute.
She particularly liked their stripy t-shirts and garlic necklaces.

© Carl Burkitt 2018


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