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The French President is sitting in his office when his telephone rings.

"Hallo, Mr. Sarkozy!" a heavily accented voice says. "This is Paddy down at the Hogshead Harp Pub in County Clare, Ireland. I am ringing to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you Frenchies!"

"Well, Paddy," the President replies, "This is indeed important news! How big might your army be?"

"Right now," says Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is meself, me brother Seamus, me other brother Sean, me next door neighbor Flaherty, and the entire darts team from down the pub. That makes eight!"

The President laughs and replies, "Paddy, you should know that I have 400,000 highly-trained and well-equipped soldiers in my army."

"Begorra!" says Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back..."

Sure enough, two hours later Paddy calls again. "Frenchie, the War is still on. We have managed to get ourselves some infantry equipment!"

"And what equipment would that be, Paddy?" the President asks.

"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."

Sarkozy sighs, amused. "Paddy, I have 6,000 tanks and 5,000 armored personnel carriers. And since you have last called, we have recruited an additional 10,000 soldiers, bringing the total to 410,000."

"Saints preserve us!" says Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."

Sure enough, Paddy rings again the next day. "Froggie, the war is still on! We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We have modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Bar have joined us as well, so we are 12 men now!"

After a moment, the President clears his throat. "Paddy, I have 100 bombers and 250 fighter planes. My military bases are surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, my army has grown to 450,000 men."

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" says Paddy, "Let me talk to me mates.."

That afternoon, the President's phone rings once again. "Mr. President," states Paddy "I am sorry to inform you that we have had to call off the war."

"Really?" asks the President. "I'm sorry to hear that. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Well," says Paddy, "we had a long chat over a few pints of Guinness, and have come to the sad conclusion that there's no fookin' way that we can feed 450,000 French prisoners of war."
 

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