France, you ruined that chance when you shot me. Your a damn idiot if you think I want any diplomatic relationships with a man I tried to accept, did what I could to redeem myself for, and was shot at as a result. Why don't we be realistic? I hate you. I hope your economy burns at its very foundations, your military indulges in self-immolation, and you effectively rot in hell. You're a better enemy than an ally. You're worthless as a companion, and I can't believe I even tried to be semi-formal with you before, because I'm not sure if you know it yet, but I've lost all function in my arm, no thanks to you.

You're the king of incompetence, what advice you have given I find ironic and sickening, and honestly I pity anyone who makes an alliance with you.





Well? Is that better? Unless my German was too complicated for you, let me say it in a language you understand better: Tu es con. Now, if you retort against me, I will declare war on you for assault against my person, and believe me. It's not that hard to take a chip out and see that you're thoroughly smeared into the cement, and I will regret nothing.