For your viewing pleasure, in full Sensurround Playmobil action, some of the highlights of 2012 in our little village ...
The inauguration of the new (only slightly second-hand) municipal cesspit (provisionally named "The House at Pooh Corner", although a committee is working busily on that, from 9 to 5 most days at Le Bar du Centre) goes swimmingly. M. le Maire, carrying his ceremonial crossbow and supported by his faithful bodyguard, performs the ceremony as the St-Pierre Olympic Synchronised Pushup squad provide entertainment for the crowd.
Luckily the life-saving team from le lac de Carouge were also on hand (mostly, let it be admitted, for the vin d'honneur liberally distributed this time, the mayor being notoriously stingy on most public occasions) and so the legless bastard baby (that's the family name, people - Batârd - in full, Anatole François Colroulé de Morve du Batârd, and understandably enough he started drinking at an early age) was rescued before the mixer blades got turned on.
There was great consternation at the discovery of an Amusing Vegetable, origins to this day unknown, in the bounds of the commune. Despite the heroic efforts of sous-officier, gendarme adjoint and garde de corps personnel to M. le Maire Blot, who sign-posted the spot and barricaded the creature at great personal risk, the day was not without casualties: sadly, the legume was not only Amusing but also Carnivorous, and so the good folk of St-Pierre will no longer be entertained by the antics of M. & Mme. Ours (please do note that France has no problems with marriage between people, or whatever, of different colours), nor their courageous dog Spot.
But after the ensuing firefight (which did not, as a matter of record, start before the savage carrot willfully attacked the free-loading sponging welfare bears, who probably deserved it anyway, they're not like us you know) there was a free distribution of mixed vegetable salad to all St-Pierrans of sound mind and correct gender, also having voted for M. le Maire, so there's a silver lining to everything if you know where to look for it ...
The Glorious Cheery People's Working Republic of St-Pierre attempts the launch of a Pudong 3 "Short Trot" nuclear interceptor, with the aim of putting into orbit a Snot IV satellite to demonstrate our peaceful intentions and solidarity with the oppressed proletariat of the planet.
Sadly, despite the perhaps over-enthusiastic use of accelerant the blue touch-paper failed to ignite, so the world stays deprived of crackly Savoyard folk-songs and the collected uplifting thoughts of M. le Maire on the short-wave radio bands. For we know that over there you only have scratchy cats' whiskers radios, and I must take a photo of one soon for it takes a lot of shaven cats to get a decent-quality whisker, and the cats are not exactly happy about it either, but over here in the Glorious Peoples Republic we has invented the transistor. Admittedly, at 6"x4"x4" it is not yet exactly miniature, but we're working on that. Up at le Bar du Centre.
On a happier note, the abortive launch did mean that the rescue helicopter (unfortunately missing its rotors, due to the prevalence of criminal delinquency amongst the youth of today, not to mention M. Squat the scrap-metal dealer) was not needed to airlift Chief Engineer LeCrotte (who wears his traditional Chief Engineer's headgear with pride, and some aplomb) to safety, nor was the attentive crowd incinerated by the blast. We'll get them next time.
M. le Maire is unexpectedly attacked by a unicorn and an extra-galactic slug, to the applause of the crowd of constituents (lit. "les applaudissements de la foule") who had come to complain about the shocking state of the drains. Fortunately the absence of a safety-catch on the ceremonial crossbow meant that he could return fire immediately, thus doubtless saving the day for humanity.
The slug has since been integrated into the municipal workforce as Chief Sewage Inspector, ably replacing the prior incumbent M. Deliquescens, whom everyone had long thought didn't really have his heart in the job, and was only going through the motions.
The unicorn escaped from intensive care at the local old people's home (apparently along with a number of other inmates, at least they've not been seen again recently) but has been sighted from time to time sprinkling fairy dust in local gardens.
Watch This Space! for more exciting news from St-Pierre d'Albigny, in the New Year.