Symphony of Refined Profanity

In the Elysium Lounge, where the code drips velvet wine, The Merovingian enters,

cursing like a poisoned valentine. He snaps his fingers, laser chandeliers

bow low, French tirades sparkle sharply in a crystalline glow. "Sacrebleu de

catastrophe numérique!" "Mille misères du code brisé!" He hurls his insults boldly,

a sommelier of chaos play. Oh mon doux chaos, his fury forms a royal

storm, a baroque eruption of disdain taking glorious form. Every insult pirouettes,

every snarl sings free, behold the grand, glittering swearword symphony.

Bodyguards in ballet lines move with deadly calm while he rants