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Jessy Matador was walking down the road, passing rows of brightly coloured houses along the way.
One of the houses, however, had a crowd of people surrounding it, and Jessy went to get a closer look.
There were protesters holding picket signs and shouting, crowding around a white house.
"What the hell?" Jessy thought, as he walked over to see what the commotion was all about.
He walked over to the protest, and, looking around, he saw various slogans on the signs such as 'You suck Sebastien!' and 'You traitorous swine!'
"Uhm... what's going on over here?" Jessy asked, and one of the protesters turned around to him.
"Oh, we're protesting because Sebastien Tellier is no-good, traitorous scum," she said, before turning back to yelling at the house.
"Y...Yes... ok, I can see that," Jessy said, "But why is he... why are you calling him... no-good traitorous scum?"
"What?! You don't know?" the woman yelled, looking shocked, "Wait... aren't you Jessy Matador? Surely you of all people know!"
"Know what?" Jessy asked.
"Well, you know when Sebastien was on the Eurovision right? You remember that? Surely you watch that damn contest every year?" the woman was annoyed at explaining this by now.
"Uhm... yes, I remember that," Jessy said.
"It was a dreadful song..." the woman growled.
"What?" Jessy said, "I thought it was a good song. And that doesn't explain why you're protesting."
"Well, we're protesting because this good-for-nothing scum sang his song in English and not our glorious French tongue! Traitorous dog! Now excuse us while we protest in peace without you asking stupid questions."
Jessy looked up to the window of the house and saw that Sebastien was looking down at them.
"Look at him, looking down at us like the no-good dog he is!" a protester screamed, "Why don't you move back to Britain with those Limey friends of yours if you love them so much!"
"Look, look you guys," Jessy said, "This was over two years ago! Come on, you've got to let it go, this happened in 2008..."
"And we've been here every day since!" one protester cackled, "And we'll be here every day forever! Ahahahah! Now get out of here Jessy, get out of here now!"
Suddenly, the door on the house opened slightly, and Sebastien was standing in the doorway.
"G..Get out of my garden!" he yelled, "I...I'm not home!"
"Fuck you Sebastien!" yelled a voice from the crowd.
"Every day for the past two years! I wish I'd never been on the freaking Eurovision! Are you happy now? Is that was you wanted me to say?" Sebastien shouted.
"No," a protester yelled, "We want you to get out of our country, because you're a traitorous scumbag!"
"I don't care!" Sebastien said, "Look, no-one else will ever do a song in English for France ever again! You scared the crap out of poor Patricia, that's why she did her song in French!"
"Lies!" another protester screamed, while waving his sign, "Patricia Kaas is truly French, unlike you, you evil monster!"
"Just shut up, shut up all of you!" Jessy yelled, "Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to him every single day? Why haven't the police gotten rid of you lot yet?"
"Excuse me but the police are on our side," one protester yelled.
"Yes," a policeman came out of the crowd, holding a sign which read 'Go back to Britain you scum!', "We're on the side of these fine protesters. Sebastien is a traitor to our great nation!"
"Uhm... the song wasn't even totally in English anyway," Jessy said, "Some of it was in French."
"You should go away Jessy," Sebastien said from the doorway, "For your own good. You don't want this lot on your doorstep every day."
"Sebastien, call the damn police or something," Jessy yelled back, walking up to the doorway of the house, "You can't just let them do this all the time, it's not right!"
"You can't call the police," yelled another policeman, as more policeman came out, all holding signs, "We are the police!"
"Fucking hell," Jessy said, "Ok, alright, I may have a plan, Sebastien, one moment please."
And Jessy walked up to the door.
"Let me in," Jessy whispered, and the door opened and Jessy stepped inside.
Sebastien then slammed the door closed.
"You're a coward, Sebastien!" screamed a voice from outside.
"Holy fuck," Jessy said, "What in the-"
"I'm used to it," Sebastien said, looking down at the floor, "It's... this is the way it has always been, for the past two years my life, it has been like this."
"Oh my god," Jessy said, "How do you even do anything?"
"Well, when I want to do anything, I leave by the back garden. They don't see me when I leave that way."
"Why don't you, you know, move house or something?"
"I've moved house six times! But it's hopeless. They find me. They always do. I'll never be free of them."
"Woah," Jessy said, as he walked through Sebastien's kitchen and was now looking through the window at the garden, "Say, Sebastien, do you have a hose pipe in your back garden?"
"A... a hose pipe? Why, yeah, of course I do!" Sebastien said, going outside and pointing to a green hose pipe, "But I don't see what this has to do with-"
"Ok," Jessy said, "It looks long enough, ok, I'm going to grab this, when I should 'GO!' you press the button on this end of the pipe, and it'll spray water at them. Ok?"
"You want to be rid of them, right?" Jessy said.
"Yes, of course! Ok, we'll do this, but I should do the spraying. You should wait here, I've got nothing to lose, but if you do it they might start going after you too."
"Ah, ok, I'll wait here then," Jessy said, as Sebastien picked up the end of the hose pipe and walked back to the front door, opening it, and seeing the protesters yet again.
"Ok Jessy, go!" Sebastien yelled, as Jessy pushed the button and water came spraying out of the hose pipe, soaking the protesters and their signs.
After a while the protesters began to leave, running off down the street.
"Jessy, you can stop now, they're gone! They're all gone!" Sebastien laughed, as Jessy pushed the button yet again and the water stopped spraying.
Sebastien ran back to the garden.
"Jessy! Jessy you did it!" Sebastien smiled, almost jumping up and down with happiness, "You're a genius, you're the best, man!"
"I know, I know," Jessy smiled.
It was three days later, and Jessy was now standing around in a cafe, when he saw Sebastien sitting down at one of the tables.
"Sebastien!" he said, walking over to him, "Great to see you again!"
"Jessy! Sit down, sit down! It's good to see you too!" Sebastien smiled.
"So, how have things been?" Jessy asked, sitting down, "They haven't shown up again, have they?"
"Oh, no, they haven't been back at all. You know, I think they may have finally given up."
"Wow, that's great. We sure taught them a lesson back there."
"Yeah we sure did," Sebastien said, but then he was interrupted by a woman standing over the table.
"Hey you two," she said, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but are you talking about those protesters? Have they gone?"
"Patricia?!" Sebastien said, "Sit down, sit down, it's great to see you! And yes, they have gone."
"Oh, good," Patricia said, sitting down next to Jessy, "You know, I was going to write my song in English, but then I heard about what happened to Sebastien and decided against it. Some people take the Eurovision far too seriously these days."
"Well, I can understand the 2010 edition being taken seriously," Sebastien said, "What with that British guy bringing a gun into the hotel and the whole PVR thing and all... but the one I was in? No, nothing out of the ordinary happened there. I'm sure the other 2008 contestants haven't been forced to relive the Eurovision every day."
"Woah, and I didn't even know all this protesting stuff was going on," Jessy admitted, "Well, I'm sure glad I didn't write my song in English, otherwise that crap would have happened to me too."
"You're lucky Jessy," Patricia smiled, "I just hope our act for 2011 has the common sense to write their song in French, otherwise they may get a whole load of protesters waiting in their front garden."
"Or they could just pull out a hose pipe and spray them," Jessy said, and the three of them laughed.
"In all seriousness we should warn them though," Sebastien said, "Our 2011 entrant. They've got to know the consequences of writing their song in English."
"Les Fatals Picards did it though, didn't they?" Patricia said, "They had their song in like... half-French and half-English."
"Uhm... you do know that they all live in Switzerland now because people kept trying to torch their houses, right? I should have realised then, that writing my song in English would be a bad idea. But I thought, 'hey, I could give France a real shot at the Eurovision', but you know... things don't always work out the way that you think they will."
"Torch their... what?!" Jessy yelled, "Ok now, this Eurovision thing has been blown way out of proportion! Are they alright now?"
"Yeah," Sebastien said, "They're fine. They're still in Switzerland somewhere. I guess the protesters couldn't be bothered following them into another country."
"Oh my god," Patricia said, "I didn't even know that had happened to them. Poor guys. Ok Sebastien, we'll follow your idea, we'll warn the 2011 entrant of the dangers of writing the Eurovision entry in another language."
"Good," Sebastien said, "They'll need it. Whoever it is, we'll make sure the same thing doesn't happen to them like what happened to me and Les Fatals Picards."
"Yeah," Jessy said, "When the selection process happens, we'll be there. And we'll make sure nothing bad happens to whoever it is."
The End.