French stick

Went to the rising Sun last night with my old mate Graham Atwood. I needed a pint or three after spending all day at the hospital with Kay, who is very ill at the moment. Anyway myself and Graham are sitting there enjoying our beers when a lanky frenchman comes through the door and says "Geeve mee a light!" wiggling a cigarette in his hands "sorry mate, we don't smoke" said Graham "yeah sorry,I gave it up" says I.
"you no geeve me a light, why you geeve up smoking?" he leers across at me "... You got lung canceer?" " geeve me a furkeeng light"

This onion pedaling, snail chomping, kisser of nazi's bottoms is now getting on my nerves

"Fuck off French wanker" says I

"Watch your language" says the cheese eating surrender monkey

He walks out, I follow him through the door. He runs away.

I now think I understand Ron Trueman-Border's song Everybody Hates The French.

I wonder if it was one of those French fags that smell/taste like shit that he wanted to light?