bˈɪznəs ɪz ɡˈʊd, sˈɪns pˈiːpəl ɡlˈædli pˈeɪ fˈaɪv fɹˈæŋks tə hˈɪɹ ðɛɹ ɹˈænts ænd nˌɑːnsˈɛnsɪkəl mˈɛsɪdʒᵻz ɪn pˈɑːɹks ænd skwˈɛɹz; ˈɛvɹi sˌoʊ ˈɔfən, ˈɑːmɪnəs kɹˈɪptɪk mˈɛsɪdʒᵻz ɐnˈaʊnsɪŋ ðə ɹᵻtˈɜːn ʌvðə plˈeɪɡ wɪl ˈɔːlsoʊ biː pˈɑːɹt ʌvðə dˈeɪz ɹᵻkwˈɛstᵻd kɹˈaɪz.
Business is good, since people gladly pay five francs to hear their rants and nonsensical messages in parks and squares; every so often, ominous cryptic messages announcing the return of the plague will also be part of the day's requested cries.