PARIS – The French government has formally surrendered to the 1940s this morning, following the discovery of a World War Two bomb that proved "too emotionally exhausting" to move.
As the news broke, the city fell into a practiced rhythm of despair. Citizens were seen weeping openly into their Emmental, the holes in the cheese providing a perfect metaphor for the emptiness of the human condition.
While other nations might use robots or controlled explosions, the French bomb disposal team—wearing ceremonial necklaces made of artisanal onions—opted for a more sensory approach. The device was neutralized by being smothered in ripe Camembert and left in the midday sun until the sheer, decaying funk of the dairy forced the detonator to lose the will to live.
As the bomb was rendered safe, a twelve-baguette salute echoed from the Arc de Triomphe. The crusty projectiles were fired into the air with such Gallic indifference that three of them stalled in mid-air and refused to land.
President Macron was later seen on the balcony of the Élysée Palace, staring blankly at the horizon while smoking four cigarettes simultaneously. When asked for a statement regarding the safety of the public, he simply exhaled a cloud of Gitanes smoke and whispered, "C’est la vie, and also, c’est le boom," before retreating into a dimly lit room to listen to jazz.
The government has announced seven days of national mourning, during which French life will be lived entirely in black and white. Pedestrians are required to walk with a slight slouch, and all dialogue must be delivered in subtitled, philosophical monologues about the futility of time.
Photo by Chris Karidis on Unsplash
