The year is 1967. The location is France. It’s Saturday, and the time is 10 am.
“Hurry up, or the motorway will be jammed,” says Jean-Paul to his wife, Mimi, as he briskly walks towards their car. There is a kid, dressed in a native Indian costume, complete with toy bow-and-arrow, firing plastic arrows at Jean-Paul’s classic car. Without removing the cigarette dangling from his mouth, JP runs at the boy, aggressively. “I’ll show you!” he says, as he chases the lad away from his parked car.
Meanwhile, Mimi is sorting out her handbag on a nearby wall. “Get a move on!” he shouts over to her.
Unperturbed, the kid comes back. “Hey, mister,” the boy says, cheekily, “What make is this banger?”
“Get lost,” says Jean-Paul, as he gets into the driving seat.
As JP closes the car-door, the kid shouts out, in a shrill voice, “I know what it is, it’s a clapped-out Facel.”
Jean-Paul lowers down the roof of the cabriolet as Mimi is getting into the passenger side. The kid walks around the front of the vehicle and confronts JP’s wife. “As clapped out as your wife,” the boy shouts, in a falsetto tone. Mimi reacts to this by slapping the lad, fiercely, on the back of the head, several times, as the boy tries to run away. Mimi then gets into the passenger seat.
Now standing further back, at a safer distance, the kid shouts, “A clapped-out Facel!”
