Lafranceapoil -

The crowd murmured. They had never heard a moustache speak before. Some were impressed. Most were mildly alarmed.

The Mayor, feeling the tickle of Lafranceapoil, began to smile. A real, warm, cheese-loving smile. And because he smiled, Lafranceapoil felt something it had never felt before: connection. For the first time, it wasn't just a floating, lonely curl of hair. It was part of a laugh. Part of a face. Part of a moment. lafranceapoil

"I," declared Lafranceapoil, now perched on the Mayor’s face, "am the winner. The Mayor now has the finest moustache in the land. Therefore, the prize is his. Therefore, the prize is mine. Hand over the cheese." The crowd murmured

Lafranceapoil was, naturally, outraged.