Claire was having difficulties with her song. The problem was largely in the lyrics department. She had a nifty little tune worked out that was guaranteed to sell any lyrics in the world, but the closest things she had to lyrics she had copied off the back of a Rice Bubbles packet. Just to give her something to be going on with as she worked out the music. Claire thought that it was quite a good song, but she was uncertain that 'Snap, Crackle, Pop!' was really the message she wanted to put over. She had to get the message just right, because the tune was so extraordinary that it was certain that anybody hearing it would instantly take it as a message of life changing proportions and possibly begin some sort of religious movement as a result. Cereal religions was not something she was really interested in. But then again, the traditional messages of love, peace and five part harmony didn't seem to cut it either.

She played through her song again. Yes, it really was a brilliant little tune she had worked out. Claire was very proud of the tune. It was the sort of tune that got inside your head and started work with a jack hammer, reconstructing the synaptic connections and so on. It was the sort of song that would enable her to buy her own football team. It was that good. Claire had always wanted her own football team, essentially just to say 'Look at that. I own a football team. How rich am I?' Far better than Wonder Woman and her invisible jet. 'Hey look, come and see my invisible jet.' 'I can't.' 'Yes, that's because it's invisible!' Claire suddenly realised that Wonder Woman had never had an invisible jet at all, just an over inflated sense of self importance and a well developed ability to lie. And indeed, an ability to fly under her own power whilst sitting down and pretending to fly a plane. Claire realised that this explained quite a lot about the super hero business, when it came down to it. She went back to her song with a new sense of enlightenment about the way the world went around. It was something to do with gravity. Or possibly gerbils in a little wheel with an enormously efficient set of gears. It was hard to be entirely sure about such matters. In any case, it occurred to Claire that such musings were unlikely to get her very important rock song written, unless it was written about the relationship between Wonder Woman and gerbils, and how they made the world go around. 'Wonder Woman and some little running gerbils, I'm telling you baby, they make the world go around.' Frankly, Claire thought that 'Snap, Crackle, Pop' was a better bet. It was hard to be sure in such matters though, so she played around with the Wonder Woman/Gerbil synthesis for a little while. It demonstrated quite drastically that it really didn't make for a classic rock song, and so she gave up on it quite quickly.

Through the open window drifted some French words. Claire studied them as they lay on the ground, but couldn't seem to get them to mean anything. She went so far as to poke at them with a discarded chop stick that she found under her kitchen table. Unfortunately this didn't have the desired result of translating the French into English via Chinese. She looked at the chop stick closely. Perhaps it was a Japanese chop stick, and thus unable to make the necessary translation. Claire went back to pondering the French words. They seemed to be glowing slightly. And letting off some sparks.

After a little while, when the French words had not done anything more interesting than hum slightly, Claire went back to working on her song. She played through the tune carefully. 'Snap, Crackle, Pop, Snap, Snap, Crackle, Pop.' It was so very close. And yet. It didn't seem to mean very much. Granted it meant far more than the French words did. They had crawled under the couch by now and begun to sneeze. It was rather distracting in fact. Claire could hardly be expected to write her very important rock song under such conditions. She moved the couch away from the wall and squatted down, staring at the French words. Claire moved in closer to the words. They began to giggle at her. This could hardly be considered as constructive criticism, but Claire was determined to take it on board. She became determined to discover the meaning behind the French words, and so got out her trusty magnifying glass.

Under greater magnification, Claire thought she could begin to discern letters in the hazy object. This was surely a good start. She began to dust for fingerprints on the French words. Claire had briefly been a private detective before she became an important rock musician. She still had all the kit, and the necessary investigative attitude to get to the bottom of the French words. They had begun to spin. Claire grabbed them firmly with a set of tweezers to prevent such arrant disrespect for the investigative procedure. The French words began to squeak in protest. She patted them gently to reassure them that she was only doing it for their own good (she had of course already pulled on a set of disposable latex gloves to avoid contaminating the potential crime scene). Claire had indeed begun to think of the French words as the Incident of the French Words. She suspected that somebody had slipped them through her window for the precise purpose of preventing her from writing her very important rock song. This suspicion was in fact absolutely correct, but as yet Claire lacked confirmation. The French words weren't talking, but Claire was sure she was on the right track. She looked in her private detection kit for her truth serum. The French words began to squirm anxiously. Claire gripped the tweezers more tightly.