I don’t get Canadians.

What’s to get. They’re just people. People who are easy going. Like non-hippie hippies, if you would.

No, but what do they do when something goes wrong?

Besides generally rightfully blame us?

Yes, besides that.

I suppose, I mean, if this is a legal problem?

Sure, they have to call the po-po.

The po-po?

I’m street.

If by that you mean you have seen streets? Sure. Anyway! They’d just call the Mounties.

And there’s my problem right there.

You have a problem with the Mounties?

They sound like porn police.

So wrong!

So true! Mounties! Got a problem? Hey, we’ll mount it!

Check out the beat while my moose revolves it?

Mount, mount baby!

Seriously though…

Nope, too late for that.

Fine fine, but all right, I mean they aren’t even call Mounties by Canadians, you know.

They aren’t?

No sir. They’re the RCMP

The Red Cot Milli Peppers? Those guys can’t do anything right.

No the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Red Cot Milli Peppers. I mean, just a bad knock-off cover band name. They need to do better.

That isn’t what it stands for.

Sure, because Barenaked Ladies was taken.

Who would call their police force the Barenaked Ladies?

Canadians, I guess!

What? No, they’re the RCMP!

Right, because Red Cot Milli Peppers is better?

You’re insane.

No! Canada is insane. I’m just bringing their issues to light.

I don’t have words.

I know! They’re nuts.

Not about them! About you!

Oh. Well you can bask in my genius in silence, that’s fine too.