Now, I’m not entirely sure what to make of this.  Chrissy lives in England – which is already next door to France – so, unless her brother lives in Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Monaco, Andorra or Spain, this won’t work.  Plus there’s no cricket in France, she wouldn’t like that, and cricket is far better than brothers, as my sister will happily confirm.

In second place is Rachel Simmonite’s entry:

I, a reader of the wonderful website 7 Reasons (.org), would like to win France because it would be the ideal place to put my shoes, and it would be a good bargaining tool to help me take over Britain, then after that THE WORLD.

Now, if I had feet half the size of Central Europe, I’d want somewhere to put my shoes too.  This is an entirely laudatory use of France.  Where Rachel’s entry falls down is the suggested use of the occupation of France to take over Britain, and then the world.  Or THE WORLD, as she shouted.  This has already been tried – by a monobollocular chap with a funny moustache – and it doesn’t work.  I appreciate that her plan differs somewhat to that of Herr Hitler, in that she intends to use France as a bargaining tool, rather than as a picturesque military base, but how would that work?  Would she issue threats?  “Give me the Isle of Wight or I’ll blow up Dieppe!”  I can already hear the massed voice of 60 million Britons saying, “Okay, blow up Dieppe then.  Whatever.”  “Give me the Queen or Nicolas Sarkozy gets it!”  “Bahahahahahha!”  The plan is fundamentally flawed.  Rachel is clearly the Wile. E. Coyote of the Win France competition.

Winging its way in from Greece (where the exchange rate is 2.5 Greek words to 1 English word) is the final entry that we received – which is also our winner – by Ασπασία Ματθαίου (easy for her to say):

I, a reader of the wonderful website 7 Reasons (.org), would like to win France because I would be able to stop that awful film overdubbing business which is just wrong. Viewers should be allowed to enjoy actor’s real voices in the way that they actually speak them. Why would anyone want to listen to Orson Welles speak in a silly French tone? I know I wouldn’t. (Individuals formerly employed in dubbing would have to find a new job, in the field of foreign film criticism. Their criticism would have to be written in the language of the film in question. At least 5000 words of it. I think that’s fair.)

Then I would pass a law whereby all taxi drivers in the area of the land formerly known as France would speak Greek. That would serve them right. And then everyone would be made to count and spell numbers correctly, in every known language in the world. Finally, that same law would clearly state to all taxi drivers that they would have to drive me to and from airports for free, eternally. (Hehehe. That would be great.)

French politics and sport I would make sure remain the same for ever more. (Yes!)

Just a final thought.  If my entry wins the competition I might just hand France to Jon. I think he will appreciate the prize better.

So there you have it.  In a totally unexpected outcome to our competition, France has been won and her new owner, as a result of Ασπασία’s generosity, is my writing partner, Jonathan Lee.  I’d like to thank everyone that entered and, now that France is under new management, I’d like to wish her citizens good luck.  They’ll need it.  And Jon, you may now sally forth across the channel and claim France*.  Though please get your posts for the week out of the way first, I’ve rather a lot on.

*Remember to put an English-Greek dictionary into your suitcase of baked beans and ginger nuts in case you need to use a taxi.  Oh, and it’s thé au lait you want.  The other brown stuff is something called coffee that you won’t like.

We realised something recently:  We’ve never had a competition before.  Ever (or at least as far as we can remember).  It was quite a momentous moment in the 7 Reasons offices when this occurred to us; Jon almost missed his mouth with a biscuit and Marc looked up from his book about the war and blinked, before returning to it.

Now, bearing in mind that the last time the 7 Reasons team funds were audited they stood at half a dead spider, a creased Post-it® note, the crumbs from several ginger nut biscuits, twelve business cards, a mug with a broken handle and a lemon, we weren’t expecting to have too much money to spend on a competition, but we had another check anyway and the good news is that we still have the lemon.

“We can’t offer people a lemon”, said Marc, without looking up from his book, “You never know when we might need it.  In World War II, they used to use them to sanitise cups and utensils.  They also found them indispensable for…”

Jon knew when not to interrupt Marc.  And now wasn’t that time, “OKAY!” he blurted, with such a ferocity that he surprised himself, “We won’t give the bloody lemon away!  Just in case Hitler comes back from beyond the grave, as mad as hell, and with some sort of new vendetta against humourists, the number seven and cutlery!  Because that sounds entirely plausible!  We’d also better hang on to any powdered egg that we might chance upon too, and our nylons!”

“Okay”, said Marc dreamily from behind his book, entirely satisfied that mentioning the war had got him out of devising a competition.

“So the prize has got to be something cheap, or even better, free”, said Jon, failing to recognise that Marc had already decided that the task was now solely in his hands.

What the hell’s going on?  He’s still talking to me.  Usually he’s taken the hint by now.  Right, I’m going to have to refer to the war again, thought Marc.  “The Free French?” suggested Marc, “In World War II they…”

“Yes!  That’s it!” exclaimed Jon.

“What!?”

“That’s perfect.”

He didn’t know what was perfect, and frankly, he didn’t care.  Mumbling, “Very good then.  Do carry on,” Marc turned a page and settled further back into his side of the sofa, while Jon set to work putting together his brilliantly conceived and very cheap to run competition.  And here it is.

The 7 Reasons Competition

My Lords, Ladies, gentlemen, and readers of 7 Reasons (including Kindlers).  The 7 Reasons team – in conjunction with the internet – wish to announce a competition.  We’re both proud and delighted to offer you, our loyal readership, a big prize, possibly the biggest prize that’s ever been given away in a competition.  We’re offering one lucky reader the opportunity to win France!  That’s right, France!

We’ve thought about it and it seems to us that, since they divested themselves of their monarchy in the eighteenth century, no one has actually owned France.  And it’s just there, across the sea, waiting for our lucky winner to claim it.  All of this can be yours.

To win France, simply complete the following sentence in a hundred words or less:

I, a reader of the wonderful website 7 Reasons (.org), would like to win France because…

Send your entries to [email protected] with “I Want France” in the subject box.  The competition closes on 26-02-2011.  The winner will be chosen by the 7 Reasons team (assuming they’re not reading about the war or eating biscuits) and will be announced next Sunday.  We’ll also be putting the best entries on the website, with a free link to your twitter account/website/anything you’re looking to plug.

We’re really looking forward to reading your entries and would like to wish all of our entrants bon chance.  And good luck.