En l'An II, mille vingt & trois avant notre Ère, des bonds d’ébats font rages entre les fécondes féminasistes réformistes et les restes pas très attrayants, éternels ni sur la liste mais un peu tristes et peu cotés des mascunihilistes archaïstes, et la Gaule toute entière est amicalement priée de et gentiment conviée à prendre position, aux côtés de l'un ou l'autre côté... Toute la Gaule ?
Non ! En un obscur endroit, étroit, reculé et difficile d'accès de la fière province d’Atwittairne, aux larges étendues sauvages incessamment ravagées, labourées, battues ou parcourues en tous sens par les hordes de Trolls, de Faux-Côniers, Faux-Conteurs et autres Faux-Compte-Y-Est, et récemment conquise de haute lutte par le Très-Haut beau, grand et puissant, craint et presque prospecté concernant cet aspect prince roitelet empereur Pie X dit le Doux Aile-On-Muscle, sur les bons conseils de son conseiller payard et piailleur le bon et sain Téslois le grand ordinateur des basses-messes, un pauvre petit comte de campagne, secret et discret sinon très concret, sans particule particulière et peu connu encore est encore et toujours tenu à l’écart de ces éprouvantes quenelles de parties...
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In Year II, one thousand & twenty-three before our Era, leaps of frolics raged between the fertile reformist feminasists and the not very attractive, neither eternal nor on the list but a little sad and undervalued remnants of the archaist mascunihilists, and all of Gaul is kindly asked to and kindly invited to take a stand alongside one side or the other... All of Gaul?
No! In an obscure, narrow, remote and difficult to access place in the proud province of Atwittairne, with wide expanses of wilderness incessantly ravaged, plowed, beaten or traveled in all directions by the hordes of Trolls, False-Côniers, False-Storytellers and other Faux-Compte-Y-Est, and recently conquered in a hard fight by the great and powerful kinglet Pie X called the Doux Aile-On-Muscle, on the good advice of his adviser paying and chirping the good and healthy Téslois the great low-mass computer, a poor little count, discreet and secretive if not very concrete and little known, is still and always kept away from these trying quenelles of parties...
~ Google Translate
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In the Year II, one thousand & twenty three before our Era, jumps of frolics make rages between the fecund reformist feminists and the not very attractive rests, neither eternal or on the list but a little sad and low rated of the archaic mascunihilists, and all the Gaul is amicably requested of and nicely invited to take position, at the sides of one or the other side... All of Gaul?
No! In an obscure, narrow, remote and difficult to access place of the proud province of Atwittairne, with its wide wilderness incessantly ravaged, ploughed, beaten or traversed in all directions by the hordes of Trolls, False-Coasters, False-Counters and other False-Counters and recently conquered by the great and powerful king Pius X called the Gentle Wing-On-Muscle, on the good advice of his adviser payard and piailleur the good and healthy Téslois the great processor of the low masses, a poor little count discreet and secret if not very concrete and little known is still and always kept away from these trying quenelles of parties...
~ DeepL free version
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