She's a witch who speaks in rhyme most of the time, and has a few spells she would like to cast on Jersey, to make it a little bit more wicked.
Considered by some as "the most beautiful French witch in the world", Malabelle is struggling with her unrequited love for Prince Christophe - with whom she would love to live by the sea.
As islanders will discover in the Jersey Amateur Drama Club's latest pantomime, 'Beauty and the Beast' (on until 19 January at the Arts Centre), distraught Malabelle thinks the prince should be taught a lesson, and will stop at nothing to get him back on track.
But she managed to push him out of her mind for a second to instead focus on the five things she would change about Jersey...
I was told that living on an island, within expectorating distance of France, I would have my pick of the dishiest catch-of-the-day. Instead, I find myself trawling the nightclubs finding only the whiffy crustaceans that have not been snapped up yet.
Pictured: "Too many men in Jersey, seem to think that if they feed you a line, they can hook you in."
Of course, I understand that my exquisite beauty can be intimidating but there must be someone out there who is good enough for me? Too many men in Jersey, seem to think that if they feed you a line, they can hook you in.
But I won’t take the bait! I have standards! Even a witch deserves to be adored, pampered and showered with expensive gifts. If the world is my oyster, where is my Jersey Pearl?
When one endeavours to maintain a pale and mysterious air, too much sunshine is simply inconvenient. Suncream gets under my witchy nails and I am not a lover of hats, not even pointy ones - contrary to popular myth; they don’t suit me.
Pictured: Too much sun doesn't suit Malabelle's fair complexion.
Jersey is far too temperate for a woman of my extreme tastes. I prefer the searing heat of a forest fire or the icy winds of a snowstorm – weather you can inflict rather than enjoy.
And it’s not just the mildness of the climate that bothers me. It’s the incessantly sunny disposition of the people that rankles the most. Despite my best efforts to spread doom and gloom, during the spring and summer months, the outlook is invariably fair to moderate.
Pictured: Malabelle cannot resist Jersey ice-cream.
The people here seem to conspire against my ill-intentions and do persist with offering to sell me ice-cream throughout the year and as I (not Oscar Wilde) have famously said, I can resist anything but temptation!
Compassion. Generosity. Love. Jersey has an abundance of organisations that depend on this trinity and It’s enough to make me sick! As an honest witch who is committed to her craft, it causes me no end of frustration to find that all my evil deeds go unappreciated and instead, the tireless efforts of so-called do-gooders get all the publicity!
Pictured: Malabelle wishes islanders would stop spreading spreading their "altruistic magic".
Events such as ‘Pride of Jersey’ and the Jersey Charity Awards pour praise on those who give their time, energy and even money to help others – it seems that the whole island is buying into this culture of ‘giving’ with nothing being expected in return. It is becoming almost impossible to be a bad influence when all around me people are ‘caring’ about things other than themselves.
How is a witch supposed to manipulate and overpower with her considerable charms when you humans are spreading your own kind of altruistic magic?
As a fully qualified and experienced Mistress of the Dark Arts, I consider myself an asset to the island community. My specialisms are in high demand – especially in politics and finance and my consultancy work brings in a decent income. I work hard, pay my taxes and live very modestly – despite my expensive tastes.
Pictured: All Malabelle wants is to luxuriate in a tub filled with Chanel no. 5.
Yet, high living costs and the need to take a ferry to the mainland (France of course) to stock up on decent Champagne, mean that it is impossible to save a deposit to buy my own home.
All I require is a boudoir, a room for my chaise lounge and a petit salle de bain in which to luxuriate in a tub filled with Chanel no. 5. There should be an organisation that helps those in need with a rent-to-buy or deposit lending scheme so that delectable specimens such as myself, can have a room of one’s own.
Yes, I understand that Jersey is only a neighbour to France – but we are ‘voisins’ not ‘voy-zins’! This petit île is so close to my home, I can almost smell the Pommes Flambées au Calvados. And yet, I am forced to endure all kinds of distortions of my beautiful language.
Pictured: Malabelle wants Jersey to fly the flag for French.
Everywhere I go, I hear a mishmash of mispronunciations of (beautifully French) place names in a bizarre array of accents that seem to hail from anywhere from South-Africa to Southend!
Only a few thousand years ago, this little croissant of rock, drifted from the mainland and yet, in so short a time, its inhabitants have forgotten that a little water does not wash away the ties that bind us.
Dr. Frank Le Maistre said of my beloved French, “Insufficient attention is paid to the teaching of it” and as someone who loves the limelight, I cannot be satisfied with ‘insufficient attention’ and will not be satisfied until the glory of la langue Française is restored!
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