The story so far: France's new Imperatrix Brigitte Bardot yearns to drown the world in delicious French darkness. The Royal Marines Sex Commandos stealthed into Paris to kick her ass. Our correspondent alone scampered from her trap.

But turns out the lone route Home is within France's own invasion. Yeah. Join the French Army. But! They're radiant! They're frisky! Charlie's adored spending SOVIET SLUTS SUPERB and CERVICAL SUPREMACY strutting his funky stuff as the exotic Louisiana hotshot the Seminal Sorcerer. He knows it's bullshit, but god DAMN bullshitting is fun.

Half of France adores this gorgeous foreign volcano. Local flirt-champs queue to duel him. Marshals invite him to torture captured Sex Commandos. And the meteoric Alsatian prodigy "Sweetling" Yasmine attempts to seduce, duel, marry, enslave, fingerblast, and spoon him, all at once.

Oh sure, subsuming the Sorceror shall skyrocket Yasmine to Imperial Greatness. But god DAMN he's dreamy. He makes her feel ever so gooey and pliant. He melts her without trying or even knowing. She dreads it and she craves it. Yasmine MUST annihilate this dazzling rival before she just can't.

And worse. Paris's furious cops are HUNTING Charlie.

He reckons it's time for Plan B. B for Bullshit. Why not squander his collapsing celeb glamour on HIS terms?

A thrilling bullshit rampage back against Paris, perhaps? Bullshit free the entire captured Sex Commando strike force? Bullshit free every other political prisoner and captured mercenary in France?

And it'll only mean shattering the trust and breaking the hearts of his paramil paramours.

Will the Sexyverse's final hope perish forever in the heart of Darkest France? Or will Charlie's desperate matey dice-roll hit the Bullshit Jackpot?