FCN Classic: Louis XVII

Jack was my best friend and room mate. We were both Political Science majors at a bad state university, and one day, Jack got an envelope in the mail. It said - and I'm not kidding - that some distant relative had died and deeded all his worldly possessions to him. This included so much money I need a drink every time I think about it. It also included the deed to Versailles.

Versailles is located about twenty miles away from Paris. It is one of the most impressive palaces in the world; with a massive statue of some French king - I never figured out who - in front, a grand courtyard that could hold tens of thousands of people, and a massive, massive palace structure that took Louis the XIV hours to cross. In the back and on either side are miles and miles of incredible gardens, with fountains, summer villas, fake country hamlets, massive canals, statues everywhere, the works. It backs up to a huge forest where French nobility used to go hunting.

By some freak of the legal system, though the French government operated Versailles, it didn't technically own it. Now, Jack had the property.

First thing he did was send out an invitation to all his friends. I still have my email copy. It ran like this:

Hey guys: I just got a new place and I'm inviting you all over for pizza to celebrate. I have everything planned. Bring a dessert or a snack. If you can't get a plane ticket, call me and I'll see what I can do. - Jack

And then it had the address and driving directions from Charles de Gaulle International Airport. Needless to say, Jack's girlfriend Jacqui (I think the name was on purpose) called a few hours later and said, in a word, are you nuts. Jack said he wasn't. Jacqui said she couldn't afford a ticket. Jack said he'd fly her over himself.

He did the same for all his friends. All of them were really surprised about him moving to France. At the appointed day, limousines came by and picked them up (there were about forty of them), then drove them to the airport, where Jack's private plane was waiting. It had his name written in big letters on the side. Remember, up until then, no one but me knew he was filthy rich. I need a drink.

When we arrived, there were thousands and thousands of tourists all over. You don't have to pay to get into the gardens, so the doors were open, and there was a crowd of people strolling all over, just like old times, only their clothing was modern. There was a line a quarter of a mile long to get in.

Jack had thought ahead. He'd hired one hundred armed security guards, and they were parked just out of sight behind the stables, which is across the street from Versailles, which is about a mile away. I am not kidding. Versailles is big.

There is a gate with the Fleur-de-Lis in gold (everything there is gold) all over the tops of the bars, and we went through. Then Jacqui said:

"This is nice, Jack, but I thought we were going to your place." Rather than explain, Jack punched some buttons on his new, very ritzy cell phone.

"Stand very still," He said calmly.

"Why?" Asked Jacqui. Jacqui is a very smart girl usually, but that was a stupid question. Within seconds, guards were swarming all over the courtyard waving M4s, which have never been seen before in France and will probably never be seen again. They're really dangerous military rifles made by Americans.

The M4s had rubber bullets, which the guards were using very freely. People began to scatter in all directions. A few people tried to fight back. The French police showed up and had to be roughed up a little. For about four hours, things were pretty ugly. Jack invited his friends into the palace accompanied by a dozen bodyguards while the rest of his boys flushed the gardens.

When Versailles was clear, the servants were invited in. There was a huge French police presence outside the gates; they'd even sent in a helicopter and it was shining a spotlight down on us (it was getting dark). But Jack's guards, who were now using real bullets, were holding tight.

It was a great party. We had some of the hottest music idols performing live, and the rooms were all huge and interesting, and the pizza was fantastic. The only thing that wasn't good was Jacqui's dip, but nobody complained, as far as I can recall. Jack had studied up on Versailles before we arrived, and he gave a guided tour of the King's Apartments before we settled down to sleep around six in the morning.

Here's a sample:

"And this is your room, Bob. This used to be the Dauphin's private study. Three doors that way is the restrooms with all the modern luxuries; I had it installed in the former Monsegnieur's bedroom. Don't touch that painting, it's really old. Everybody else come with me, please. This next room is the Monsengieur's first antechamber ..."

We slept really well. The air mattresses were fantastic. I woke around noon and, after a shower with one of those new ten-mode showerheads, got lost in the palace. After awhile, I noticed there was an intercom system installed. I called Jack, who was just getting up in the King's bedroom (which has the most awesome view of the courtyard ever), and he sent a bodyguard to pick me up. It took the guard fifteen minutes to find me and twelve minutes to lead me back.

We had brunch in the hall of mirrors, where the treaty of Versailles that ended World War I was signed. While we were eating (the food was fantastic; so was the live music), a smoke grenade came through the window, which is a shame, because it was really old and expensive, followed by three ninja types who shot the four guards in our room immediately with shotguns. Then they made us all put our hands in the air. They wanted to arrest Jack. Jack showed them the deed.

They got really upset and talked into their radios a lot. They were talking in French. More people came in, and Jack's guards came in and there was a confrontation, but Jack had them hold on so they could get this thing sorted out and put away the helicopter and the snipers.

Finally, the French left. They said, in French, that they had been bad little boys and they were sorry. Actually, I don't know what they said. I presume they were cursing at us. The chief inspector Kluzo was really mad.

After breakfast, we toured the gardens. Then we came back for dinner. Two hundred more guards had shown up and the whole left wing was being remodeled. There was scaffolding out and it was pretty loud. Priceless paintings were being taken out (or cut out, in some cases) and carted away to sell to the Louvre. There were a few protesters, but they kept their distance.

During dinner, which was in the courtyard, somebody showed up and asked if he could join us (in French: permitay?). Jack said oui. I hadn't known he could parlay-voo until then.

The bash was awesome. We went to bed at sunrise. Jack put the newcomer, Jean-Marie, in Marie Antoinette's bedroom. I don't think he got the joke. French.

The next afternoon, word had gotten around about Jean-Marie, and there were a thousand outside wanting in. Jack let them in and beefed up security to around four hundred and quadrupled his staff. There was a grand party in the chapel with more live music and great food. I was starting to get used to this. Incredibly, Jack managed to find rooms for everyone, but he was up so late making arrangements that he slept until nine the next day. In the evening. Of course, that's when things were really picking up anyway.

The day before it had been a thousand. Now it was forty thousand, with more people coming every minute. By the time Jack woke up, they were starting to get angry about being ignored and were chanting for him to come out.

I was with him when he woke up. He opened one of the three huge windows to the King's Bedroom and wandered out onto the balcony in his striped pajamas. The crowd roared. Jack literally jumped.

"You know something," He said, "The last time there was a crowd like that outside those gates, it was the French revolution. That was two hundred years ago. They broke down the gates and killed everybody inside."

That got me thinking.

"This might be bad," I said. "There's no way we can keep that many people here."

"Maybe," Said Jack. "I have a lot of money, remember ..."

I need a drink.

Anyway, Jack's solution was to get a bunch of catapults and launch food, water, and pup tents by the thousands over the fence. There was a huge scramble and some people got hurt. Jack realized he needed to organize things better. With the help of the guards he got everyone in lines. They gave their name and were then handed their allotment: two days food and water, one pup tent, a first aid kit, and a cell phone with three hours and lots of cool games on it so they could call whoever and say they weren't coming back for dinner.

The French were theoretically in control of the city of Versailles, but they couldn't do much about this. They started complaining, so Jack bought the whole town from them. Of course, by morning, there were a hundred a fifty thousand people outside, and Jack's guards were working round the clock to keep the people with tents and food from getting stormed. More people got hurt.

Jack made a speech to the people in the palace that evening (a Versailles morning), and said that everyone was going to have to make a few sacrifices while he got everything sorted out. Then they got back to the feasting. Afterwards, Jack went with Jacqui and me to the gate. The whole city had been taken over and most of it was burned, which is a shame, because it was really old and expensive.

Jack distributed more pup tents, phones, and rations than I care to think about. Everyone had their name recorded. Then Jack chose two thousand people from the list and invited them in, kicking out the people who had been there before, except for his old friends from America, including me, and Jean-Marie, who was overlooked in the madness.

The next day, there were a quarter million people there, and Jack's police force was huge. It had taken most of the hunting forest for headquarters. A UN ambassador landed next to Le Grand Canal, which is French for The Grand Canal, and helped Jack set up his new government, which Jack was calling The Oligarchy of Versailles, which you can just call Versailles. I didn't find that very clever, but he was adamant. I suppose he was referring to the original forty, or forty-one, if you count Jean-Marie.

Versailles was a protectorate of the French Republic, but that didn't keep it from building its own standing army to defend itself from lawlessness in the former city, which was starting to become known as the slums.

Finally, we settled into a system. Everyone was given a card that identified them. Every four days, two thousand people were rotated out of the palace and into the slums, and from the slums into the palace. Every six months, the whole crowd was told to leave so new people could come.

When the world heard that they could book a spot being a bum in an burned French city with a pup tent and a cool cell phone for six months, Jack's secretaries got very busy booking tickets. The next six months sold out in two and a half hours.

By the way, for those of you who can't count, only about a third of the folks in the slum would ever get called up to the palace, and then it was only for four days.

After a week, Jean-Marie realized that there was a huge garden going to waste, and told Jack to let some of the bums, as they were starting to be known, take up residence there. Jack agreed.

Every four days, twenty thousand people were called up to the gardens. Two thousand of the old batch were sent to the palace, and the old occupants of the palace and gardens were sent back to the slums. Soon, names developed: King Jack, Council of Forty (forty-one, actually), Courtier First Class (in the palace), Courtier Second Class (in the gardens), and Bum (in the slums). Even a bum carried his title as temporary resident of Versailles with pride.

"Long live the oligarchy!"

The feasting, live performances, fun and games, and general state of luxury continued nonstop, with parties all night and sleeping it off all day. The first four days passed. Then, when the rotation started, Jack invited three people to stay indefinitely. They agreed. Duh.

Well, that turned out making things pretty complicated. The next rotation, everyone was trying to get a piece of Jack, and he realized he'd have to change something if he wanted to get some piece and quiet. He announced he would decide who could stay randomly. That settled them down.

I was there when Jack "randomly" selected the people. He put all the names in a hat, and then fished around until he found the ones he wanted. Then he drew four more just to throw people off.

By now, there were fifty-eight people in the council, and a few were starting to think long-term. Jack gave them unlimited expense accounts, so folks started building summer villas off in the gardens. Jacqui's was the coolest. It was modeled after the Taj Mahal and was placed at the end of Le Petit Canal (the Small Canal). When you looked out the right window, it looked just like India. Only Jacqui's palace was a bit bigger than the real thing.

"Viva l'oligarchie!" (Long live the oligarchy!)

Well, you can probably see where this is headed. Five and a half months later, the Council of Forty consisted of One thousand, nine hundred and twenty-six people. One thousand, nine hundred and twenty-seven, if you count Jean-Marie. That meant not very many Courtiers First Class were being turned out; most of them stayed to build their summer palaces. The mood in the slums stated getting ugly. They saw their opportunities closing up. The gardens started getting permanent residences too.

The morale at the palace had never been better, though. Versailles had all the conveniences and festivities money could buy. I need a drink.

One day the President of France called asking for a tour of the oligarchy. Jack told him there were a few tickets unsold for the slums three years from now, but he had to act now if he wanted to get them because they were selling fast. The president got angry and said some rude things. Jack said some ruder things. Then he hung up. The French can curse pretty well when they put their minds to it.

"Xx xx xxxx xxxxxx!" (Xx xxxx xxxxxxxx!)

At the six month mark, the non-permanent residents of the gardens were sent to the slums, and then everyone was told to leave. By now, the council of forty was a full two thousand, one, counting Jean-Marie. The quality of life as a Versailles bum was actually pretty good, they had set up semi-permanent communal residences and played with their big screen TVs all day. But when the bums were told to leave, they refused. Jack sensed that a blood bath might be coming and told his guards to pull back behind the gates.

The next morning (evening, technically), there was an angry mob outside the palace demanded entrance. Most of those people had waited for six months and had never been allowed to the palace. The rest had only been there for four days. They demanded that Jack permitay. Jack said non.

"Vers le bas avec l'oligarchie!" (Down with the oligarchy!)

"Mise à mort Jacques!" (Kill Jack!)

"Brûlure dans l'enfer!" (I am unhappy!)

Eventually things went downhill. They got out a battering ram made of big screen TVs and knocked down the gate. The guards started shooting at them, and they were slaughtered, but there were so many of them that the guards couldn't do much about it. The mob stormed the palace and started killing people with silverware and remote controls. I was with Jean-Marie in his bedroom, which had a great view. A guard showed up at the door and yelled:

"Sauvez la reine!" (Run for it!)

Then he mised à mort. We sauvezed. There's a secret passage (passage) next to Marie Antoinette's bed that she used to escape from the French revolution (revolution), and we made good use of it. We snuck through the palace and made our way outside, where the bums were using a lawnmower blade to behead the council of forty one at a time. I decided to make good my escape. We ran for a rendez-vous point (rendez-vous point) we had discussed before hand, which had a helicopter (helicopter) hidden behind some tall hedges.

Jean-Marie started powering up the helicopter. Then he realized he'd forgotten his suitcase full of souvenirs (souvenirs). I told him to forget them. He said non and ran back for them. The bums caught him and put him in line, then started going for me. I lifted off the tarmac and sauvezed myself.

I was the only survivor out of the council, as far as I know. Eventually the French came in and put a stop to the whole mess. They tried to sauvez the palace and restore it to the way it had been before, but it was too far gone. Now it's a museum to Jack and his friends. I personally think Jacqui's Taj Mahal was the best.