OK God please listen fools, this is not a joke. Call the cops. THE AMERICAN COPS! I am being held prisoner in Canada by…I don’t know, some kind of French lesbian mafia. I can see them from my cage. They are shouting French into some expensive-looking talkie-walkies and waving their slender, toned bare arms in the air angrily. All of them are smoking, but NONE OF THEM WILL GIVE ME ONE. Some of them have guns, two of them are making out and all of them are wearing black t-shirts with some asshole called “The Arcade Fire” on them, which I gather is some kind of House of Commons standing committee established by Queen Whatever to remind every college kid in the world what David Bowie sounded like.

THE TRIP I WON TO CANADA WAS A SCAM! This should be obvious to you now. Some radical nut-job péquistes bought the radio station, set up the contest, ellipses et cetera, and now I’m being held ransom and will not be released until my record label gives them blah blah amount of stupid mon–I haven’t even been with that label since…1984? They’re probably not even around anymore! I really doubt Ronald Reacords is still in business. It would shock me to discover that a free jazz label established as a Halloween prank by the most senile of all former Republican presidents was still around and making money today. Not a one of these graceful, stupid French hookers is getting a dime. These enchanting Canadian terrorists are in for a real kick in the squeaky little boobs.

OK look now really I don’t have much time. I stole Avril Lavigne’s laptop when she and girl from ABC’s Revenge were fighting about whose haircut was the sexiest. So listen: I AM SOMEWHERE IN MONTREAL. I AM HUNGRY AS A BASTARD. I NEED AMERICAN CIGARETTES. THE SMELL OF CHEAP POUTINE HANGS IN THE AIR THICK LIKE A FAT CHILD’S VOMIT IN THE RESTROOM AT UNIVERSAL STUDIOS ORLANDO. Please help me get the hell out of here…I know! Dress up the Arcade Fire girl like a terrorist and give her a gun and a talkie-walkie, and…No, shit that won’t work, they know what she looks like, they’ll know it’s a set-up. Think, dammit. Oh no. Avril and Karine have arrived at a decision: Karine’s haircut is the most lovely. And I really have to agree, I mean, and it’s just so, and they changed it every week! She had a different haircut every week on that show and each haircut was just lovelier than the las–SHUT UP AND RESCUE ME TODAY BECAUSE MY STOCKHOLM SYNDROME IS EITHER GONNA GET ME MARRIED OR SHOT IN THE HEAD.