Many years ago...
In the 6th form common room during morning break, I was approached by a mate of mine who pronounced that I "HAVE to come and see this".
I followed, only to curse my judgement as he led the way to the toilet.
And there it was.
In front of one of the cubicle doors was a "Vive la France" French textbook, topped by what can only be described as a Mr Whippy. It was coiled, with a point for christs sake! How the protagonist managed it without the aid of a piping bag I'll never know.
Anyway, this silent, pungent protest against the French language became the 'must see' attraction of the break-time until the janitor cleared it away.
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