We set out to learn the truth.
First we did a little research. Why do we hate the French? It is a question with many potential answers. Do we hate them because of their snooty attitudes towards people who believe that bath time is not a biannual event? Do we hate them because of the ridiculous berets and their unnatural love for Jerry Lewis? No. It's because French men have spent all the time other societies used fighting wars and developing affordable deodorant sprays figuring out how to have sex with pretty girls. Oh sure the French claim to be a fierce warlike people, but that's just to throw the rest of us off the scent. "Sacre Bleu, we are quite the warrior types. You silly English Americans cannot compare!" they say, knowing full well that we'll go off to Afghanistan or some place and conquer it to prove them wrong, and that while we are away dealing with the danger they can sneak across our borders in droves and take advantage of our women. Then they'll criticize us internationally for not obeying the U.N. while they know they are illegally dealing with the Hussein regime. The whole of French foreign policy is designed to send the rest of the world on a wild goose chase while they butter their baguettes in crocks that don't belong to them.
We have every right to hate the French.
And what of midgets? Do we hate them because they're short, or because they have oddly oversize heads for their bodies? Do we hate them because they remind us of the frailty of the human condition and the mortal nature of man? Hell no, we hate them for the same reason we hate all physically disadvantaged people, they're mildly inconvenient.
"Say, could you get the corn pops down from that shelf? It's a little high. What time does that clock say? It's too crowded, I can't see up there."
"Fuck you midget, fuck you midget. Just because you're 2'10" doesn't mean I should waste my time getting your damn cereal. I don't go around asking for you to make sure my shoelaces are tied, do I? I don't ask you if these pants make my butt look big even though you are at the perfect height to know."
Midgets are like the blind, always looking for a helping hand or a boost up into the bus, but unlike with the blind you can't just pretend not to notice them and walk away because they can fix their beady little eyes on you and tell what you look like. Then the next time you're hitting on some cute girl they will leap out from beneath the table and scream "This is the man who refused to help me. And I'm a MIDGET. All I wanted was a boost." And you can't get away from them because they're tiny and relentless, and they can hide anywhere and lord knows they scoot around fast on their minuscule legs.
So yeah, fucking demanding midgets. We have every reason to hate those bastards too.
But what about when you combine the two. When you take the obnoxious poon-hounding of a French dude and meld it with the inconvenient shortness of a midget? Does this create a doubly loathsome creature, or is he so obnoxious and pathetic that he seems almost lovable? We tried to contact the society of Midgetry in Bastion France but there was nobody there, just an outgoing phone message that said "We are so so sorry American English Nnnnerrd. We are not to be available for the phone because we are out doing the sex with your girlfriend or wife. Please leave the message and we will give an answer to her to bring you when we are finished ravaging her nnnuuudddeee body." Things did not look good. Since we couldn't locate a legitimate French midget we decided that we'd find a midget actor and have him pretend to be French.
First we called Verne Troyer but he wanted too much money ($15 plus carfare) then we left an add on Craigslist but all we got were a bunch of kind of short guys who didn't fit the bill at all. "Get out of here you 4'10" not tiny enough man. You fucking Malay, you don't even look French."
Finally we found our guy, passed out in a gutter off 54th street drunk off his ass from like two mini bottles of scotch. We took him home, bathed him in the sink, and offered him $3 and a slightly past its expiration date bag of Swedish fish if he'd help us. He agreed. He said his name was Mitch, Mitch the midget, but we asked him to change it to Michelle for the experiment and he agreed. He also agreed to wear a black and white horizontal striped shirt, a red scarf, and a blue beret. Mitch...Michelle clearly wanted those fish.
We weren't quite sure what to do with Michelle to make him more French, since he didn't speak the language and the closest he'd ever been to the Gallic shores was when he French Kissed a 9 year old (His rule is if she's taller than him she's fair game.) Eventually we decided to just scrape up some of the filth he'd left at the bottom of our sink and reapply it to his body, creating a very authentic French stench.
In the end we decided that Michelle was pretty cool after all. Sure he did a few annoying things, like stealing Pete's Mojito and puking all over his shoes, or climbing into Tonya's underwear drawer and repeatedly masturbating there while she slept, but overall he wasn't so bad, and there was definitely something endearing about his sheer loathsomeness. We almost felt guilty when we had to take away his new clothes and dump him naked back on the streets of Midtown (His old clothes burned. We didn't burn them, they actually spontaneously combusted. I guess there's only so much skin oil that can soak into corduroy before it ignites at room temperature.) He cried a little when we told him that for his safety we couldn't give him the last bag of Swedish Fish (they aren't supposed to be brown...or flop around in the pack that much.)
So what did we learn? The French are obnoxious liars who enjoy nothing except ravaging our women, Midgets are irritating inconvenient pests, but when you combine the two you get something greater than the whole of its parts. Something almost...lovable. And if you happen to see a tiny nude man huddling under an outdoor staircase around the 30's in Manhattan, blasted out of his gourd on 3 ounces of Tequila...tell him hi for us, and that Tonya's dropping the charges...out of love.