Pierre, Lucy, and a Baguette

Pierre Jevion was leaving work that Friday afternoon ready to start the weekend.
         “Oui oui mon ami, see you Monday! Pierre exclaimed to his friends and co-workers as he walked home to his ocean view mansion. He was very excited to start the weekend because he had been so busy that week working at his booming sweets shop in downtown Paris. In the distance, a poor mouse was watching him.



Lucy Potter was a poor mouse that came to Paris all the way from England to start a new life. Her parents abandoned her when she was three months old and ever since then, Lucy had been living on the streets. She saw Pierre and thought “Look at him, so posh, with his designer suit and tie, his fancy beret, and his perfectly curled moustache. Maybe he will be willing to help a poor mouse in need.” Lucy thought it was worth a shot and went to go beg for food.



“Hi,” she said nervously, “My name is Lucy, I’m from England and I was wondering if you could give me some food. I am hungry and haven’t eaten in days.”
         “Ugh, no, I am not helping an English mouse. I’ve heard nasty rumours that English mice sit around and drink tea all day. Why would I help you?” explained Pierre
         “Yeah well French mice aren’t perfect themselves. I’ve heard that French mice smell super bad and now that I’ve met one, I know it’s true!” Lucy replied, trying to hold back tears, she stormed away.





That night, Lucy thought to herself, “don’t worry, it will get better.” She slowly walked over to the corner of Rue Bezout and lied down on the cold, hard cement. Even though she was as cold as an ice cube, she slowly fell asleep. She dreamed about her parents. She could still remember clearly waking up one night, screaming, crying, but no one answered. She went to go get her parents and they weren’t there. From that day on, she had always been alone. She thought maybe Paris could change that.





That Saturday morning, Pierre went out for his daily jog down the long street of Rue Bezout. As he turned the corner, he saw Lucy shivering, crying, and frowning. He hesitated, then finally decided he should at least go talk to her.



“Hello Pierre, I thought you hated English mice. Why are you back? Are you here to laugh at me?” Lucy said.
         Pierre responded, “I will help you get food but I still don’t like you. We can break into Chez Fabon on Rue Abel. They have the best baguettes in Paris.”
         “Oh my gosh, thank you!” Lucy exclaimed. “But why can’t I just have some of your food? Wouldn’t that be easier?”
         “Just because I help you doesn’t mean I like you, therefore you don’t get my food. You have to work for things in life. Do you think it was easy becoming rich? No it wasn’t.” replied Pierre.



Pierre and Lucy were walking to Chez Fabon and they started talking.
         “So why did you come to Paris all the way from England?” Pierre asked.
         “I wanted to get away from my old life and start a new one somewhere else. I thought Paris might have better opportunities.
         “Oh okay, well the restaurant is just up ahead. We can sit over there and plan out how we will get the food.” responded Pierre.




Once they got to the doors of the restaurant, they waited and made a plan.
         “We will run in, head straight into the kitchen, ignore the yelling and screaming from the chefs, grab a baguette, and run out the door.” explained Lucy.
         “Whoa! Have you done this before, you really know what to do!” exclaimed Pierre.
         Lucy responded “When you can’t afford food you know how to steal like the back of your hand!”



Lucy and Pierre broke through the doors of the restaurant and charged through the dining room. They almost didn’t get caught until someone screamed “Mice!” Women stood on chairs and shrieked. Men heroically tried to kill the mice with almost anything they could find. Pierre and Lucy still kept running.




They finally got into the kitchen and Lucy jumped up onto the counter and hid behind a pot. Pierre wasn’t very lucky. He jumped up onto the counter knocking over a pepper and a carrot. Kerplunk! All the chefs stood and stared at Pierre.
         “Seriously Pierre! We almost didn’t get caught!” Lucy whispered to Pierre.
         “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Pierre replied.



The head chef, Chef Fabon, stood in front of the mice with a cross look. Pierre froze. Chef Fabon grabbed the closest knife and ordered all his co-workers to do the same.
         “Aim and fire!” screamed Chef Fabon.





All the chefs started throwing knives. Pierre and Lucy jumped off the counter and were determined to get the bread. They ran and ran dodging knives. Pierre turned into a bullet and dove through the air. He distracted the chefs while Lucy snuck off and grabbed a baguette.




The two mice met again and ran out managing to steal a baguette. They finally entered the dining room. People were still screaming. Women and men were yelling things like “I am never coming back again.” and “What kind of restaurant is this?” Chefs were yelling “Curse you mice! Look what you’ve done!”



They finally escaped the restaurant and ran to the nearest alley. Pierre had never felt so alive. He felt a surge of energy run through his veins.
         “That was awesome! It was so much fun!” exclaimed Pierre.
         “Yeah I know thank you so much for coming with me! Do you want some of this bread?” Lucy offered. Pierre kindly said no and they sat in silence for a minute.


“You know what, English mice aren’t that different after all.” said Pierre.
         “Yes,” Lucy said, “French mice don’t stink either!”
         “Maybe you could move in with me until you get a job and buy your own place.” offered Pierre.
         “That would be great!” said Lucy.




From this day on, Pierre and Lucy were best friends. They never fought. Lucy got a great job and bought her own place. No one ever forgot the day Pierre and Lucy stole food from Chez Fabon. The women and men still shudder when they walk past that restaurant. The chefs will never forget how angry there customers were. More importantly, Pierre and Lucy will never forget the baguette that brought them together.