Dear American Thieves of Lord Stanley's Cup

Dear Emily America:

We didn't say much when you insisted the swill that you call "beer" was actually related the true, proud and noble drink that is actually worthy of the name. We just shook our heads when you bought Molson's. We hated to tell you that we only made that beer so you guys would have something to drink when you came up here.

We put up with the washroom's that you don't wash in. We put up with your hatred of "u"'s in colour and neighbour and labour.

We think it's enormously funny to watch you try to identify a tuque. We thought it was amusing when Rudy Guliani didn't know who our Prime Minister.

We only snickered a tiny bit at your Freedom Fries. We appreciate the comedic relief your politicians (on both sides of the aisle!) provide.

But this, this perfidy, this treachery, this malfeasance, this simply cannot be tolerated.

We will issue a sternly worded apology note of concern. We may even send a head of state to say "Fuddle Duddle". Possibly we shall say it in two official languages. (We are striking a Royal Commission to study the feasibility - it will travel across Canada to consult with everyone, but don't worry, they'll only listen to the Quebecois in the end)

But we are coming for our cup. When you hear this song, you'll know we're on our way.

(Only, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, would ever mind making sure that there's snow, it makes it sooooo much easier on the sled dogs - thanks!)

Sorry, you'll note the puck isn't coloured blue in the video, that's because, well you know, the ice is white and the puck is black. It's that whole contrast thing.

(Why no Emily, I'm not still resentful about the whole Stanley Cup thing, nope, not me!)