A new iron curtain drawn across the 49th parallel. Cut all diplomatic ties as we expel all American dignitaries, and issue a nation-wide travel advisory for any others left inside. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The burned out shells of south-bound traffic lay strewn across a cold stretch of would-be interstate. Still visible below their charred remains: Pax Americana plates. Your stupid fucking laser-pucks were just the start. And while you may stand six full cubits and a span, we got a shepard's sling and five stones in our hand and the battle of 1812 lives in our heart.
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