La Guimauve Flaming

Written by: Caleb Smith

I had a French friend named Baptiste
Who wanted to go camping one night
We all thought it a great idea
If only we'd been right

Roast duck on the fire was nice
And the beer was easy to swallow
But some fool had the awesome idea
To roast on the flames...a marshmallow

I don't care for them myself
So I told a story as the others ate
And watched closely as by brother's mallow
Burned a flame that would not abate

"Bon appetit!", he said
As he whipped the stick back and forth
But alas, the flame burned brighter
And melted the mallow more

So with a final hard swing to extinguish the flame
It came off...how it did scoot!
Like a shooting star, it flew over the fire
It was marshmallow...sur la route

"C'est magnifique!", I thought
I'd never seen a marshmallow fly
But to my surprise, and my brother's demise
It hit Baptiste, right in the eye

For a moment, he looked like a demon
With an oozing eye of flame
But as in slow motion, his chair toppled backwards
And that's when the awful screams came

He clawed like a madman at the mallow
His fingers and hands it did sear
It was I that jumped in, to save my dear friend
And poured in his face...my beer

Soon after, Baptiste was in the hospital
My brother...worse...home with my dad
And I, alone by the fire
Thinking, "That wasn't so bad."

"It's nights like these I remember the most."
"But my brother...votre cul est toast!"


* Translation--
bon appetit--good appetite (eat well)
c'est magnifique--it's magnificent
votre cul est toast--his but is toast