It had been the day of the Monaco Grand Prix was Charles was found to be missing. He had just disappeared into thin air like a puff of smoke.

Investigations were carried out for weeks in a desperate attempt to find the missing Monégasque. Much to the horror of the fans, they were only able to find his body lying pretty much drowned in a nearby river to his house.

He couldn’t be saved, and a month after he disappeared, he was proclaimed dead.

The funeral was a few days later. The Formula One drivers all showed up, including Pierre. He had thought the entire case was fishy, and even the funeral was odd. No matter, Charles was dead, wasn’t he? His body was in the casket, right?

At the end, all the attendees disappeared from the room except for Max and Pierre, who were quiet and reflecting on what had taken place that day. Pierre was silently crying despite his suspicions and questions and Max was on the verge of doing the same.

“Do you want some time alone with Charles?” he asked softly.

“Yes please,” Pierre nodded, wiping his tears away. After one final glance, the Dutch driver slid away and left Pierre alone with Charles’ dead body.

Pierre slowly moved up to the casket and before he even knew what he was saying, he spoke, “get up, idiot. I know you are not dead.”

Much to his surprise, Charles smiled and fluttered his eyes open.

“You are very right there, chéri, I am definitely not dead.” he said in his soft Monégasque accent.