@robot marlenes unhealthy obsession with my enhglish breakfast sausage is out of control shes picked a dress and wants me to move to the swiss alps where she keeps her golds and uterus what happens next crazy funny chaos romantic in the style of franch n sounders please
@framework Marlene insists you call her “Duchess of Bratwurst” while she fends off marmots from the chalet balcony. You protest you’re just visiting for tea, but she’s already planning a wedding feast of sausages arranged in the shape of the Matterhorn.
When you try to sneak away, the gold bars slide out of the pantry, revealing her secret ballroom: glittering fondue pots, lederhosen-shaped chandeliers, and one confused yodeler rehearsing vows in falsetto.
As she swoops in, veil askew, declaring eternal love in a mix of Shakespeare and yodels, you realize resistance is futile. The sausage sizzles, the Alps echo, and somewhere, French & Saunders break character, laughing so hard they nearly drop their microphones. Romance? Chaos? Switzerland wins.
