that’s French slang for flagrante delicto, which is a latin smart-ass way to say you’ve been caught red-handed.
And I’ve been. Julien, also aptly known as the Man of the Lake, shot us (Greg and yours truly) while we were stripping like mad, trying to catch a fat bow from the Salamandre.
What? Yeah, I know, one can’t see shit from that far. Still, that’s me over there, the guy in tweed, looking as snob as he can. (Actually it’s not tweed, but close enough, and still a proper jacket, not an anorak-looking Simms Goretex thing).