Lafranceapoil ((better)) -

"Fine," it grumbled, but softly. "The beard can have second place. But I demand a baguette."

Lafranceapoil was, naturally, outraged.

As for Lafranceapoil, it never floated alone again. But sometimes, late at night, when the Mayor was asleep, it would whisper to the moon: lafranceapoil

The Mayor tried to speak, but his new moustache wiggled every time he opened his mouth, making him sound like a duck with a lisp. The crowd laughed. The briar-patch beard bristled with indignation. The sideburns scurried off in shame.

"Still the best. Obviously."

Lafranceapoil relaxed its tips.

But the Mayor pointed to the briar-patch beard. "To Monsieur Henri!" "Fine," it grumbled, but softly

And indeed, that was the closest to the truth.