Limericks

I've decided to make it my mission
To make use of nuclear fission
And build up a bomb
With great zeal and aplomb
To force the French into submission

When I am the leader of France
I shall order the Frenchmen to dance
And while they cavort
In their hand-crafted shorts
I'll abolish their language and pants

"Pants are no longer in fashion
And I hate speaking French with a passion"
And though they may whine
I will put up a sign
"Keep your protests away or I'll mash 'em"

So the French, who can no longer talk
Away to their homes they shall walk
With no pants of their legs
And they must call "oeufs" "eggs"
Any sympathy for them's a crock

I cannot explain what I am saying
All I know is that Beatles are playing
I'm tired and dumb
I've a cut on my thumb
To skip French class, I'd gladly be paying