Jagshemash, pepsi max. Wow wow whee wahhh!

After several months of being on the lamb, Monsieur finally came home.

It appears that while shirking his coerced service as a bomb-sniffing dog and gallivanting throughout Europe on impromptu holiday, he was interviewed in Amsterdam by Kazakhstani reporter Borat Sagdiyev. Borat was in Holland filming segments for his Kazakh TV travel documentary “ВǾЯΆТ Guide to Dutchlands.”

Borat was collecting on-street interviews from passers-by for a piece on “History of, eh, Dancink in Clog” when he noticed Monsieur in the window a local hemp bar.

Mistaking M le Coq as a fair Dutch maiden, Borat introduced himself. “Jagshemash! I like you! You like me? I would like, eh, make romance inside you, eh, sexy-time.”

Monsieur, unaware of Borat’s advance, continued to enjoy his pint of Bitter, all whilst savoring the taste of Freedom that his AWOL existence provided. Noticing the long shadow now cast upon his brownie tray, he checked around to determine its source. Looking up, he spots Borat looming above him. “Good day, sir. May I help you?”

“I am, eh, having a beeg hrang…like can of Pepsi. You are, eh, beauty girl. So young…eh, tight…eh, like a man’s anoos. I, Borat, am strong romancer."

“Um, although I’m flattered, sweaty stranger, I am a male dog—a teacup poodle with a heart of gold, to be more precise.”

“Oh, I sorry. I thought you were…woman.”

“Well, I’m not. But it appears we both agree that I’m pretty…so, uh, thanks, sweaty stranger.”

“Borat.”

“Yes, Borat. Thank you, but I prefer, in your native Kazakh language, shakira over hrang.”
“Yes. I like you funny dog! Eh, High Five!!”

This chance meeting brought some much-needed media attention to Monsieur’s conscription. Borat and his film crew exposed the US government’s illegal drafting of dogs into bomb-sniffing units, freed Monsieur from his duty, and the two became fast friends.

Kindred misogynist spirits bound together by one’s ineptitude of local customs to the other’s encyclopedic brain and photographic memory.