Sorry, but the plans to invade Canada are on hold (Part 2)
September 19, 2010 5 Comments
And, to continue…
In a head-spinning daze that I think was drug induced (and not self-inflicted THIS time) I crossed the threshold of the enemy’s stronghold and was immediately assaulted with… a cold bottle of Moosehead beer! The vile tactics of the Canadians know no bounds, as I was just presented with the one thing that even MY staunch willpower could not withstand, and that was a cold, refreshing libatious beverage! The horror! The sheer EVILNESS! The… hmmmm, tasty beer.
Damn, really tasty beer.
-But the mission must continue.
One thing led to another and after checking that the cyanide pill was still nestled securely in my breast pocket we set off to participate in the action that the Canadian people refer to “dining out”. I understand that they may have adopted an American colloquialism that refers to the activity of of consuming food in a place other than one’s home (which should let you on to how SLY they are by concealing themselves in our references) but the last time that I heard the term it was in Hebrew and it was Mossad code for assassination of either an embedded spy… or a clown, strangely enough. As I allowed my hosts / captors to lead the way out of the cleverly-concealed bunker, I looked to the vehicle as our transport to this supposed “dining out” process, but what did they do?
-They turned to the side walk and proceeded to walk the concrete path at a jovial pace. I smelled trap IMMEDIATELY, as we were about to proceed through a down town area that had the prerequisite elevated positions that any sniper would give his reproductive organs (as well as a toaster) for, so I responded accordingly. I attempted tactical maneuvers as I was force marched to our destination, ducking side to side and leaping to hide behind any and all decorative planters that were along our ill-fated path, but oddly enough my actions were greeted with stares of confusion… so, fighting back decades of training, I risked life and limb to walk like an unassuming bloke whistling to his own funeral. Our path terminated at a door that looked like it was stolen from a History channel show about the IRA, complete with Irish motif, but frighteningly enough we proceeded…
…To have a blast. The food was excellent, the company downright amazing, and the drinks, the drinks! Downright fun if you ask me, IF I WAS NOT ON A RECONNAISSANCE MISSION.
By this time I was noticing that it was getting more and more difficult to keep my head in the game.
Tune in next time for another harrowing installment of the mission that ended the invasion of Canada, as I discuss public transportation and the inevitable incursion DEEPER into the heartland of the Enemy!