"Welcome to Canada sir, what is the nature of your visit?"
"I'm on a forced vacation. I'm a cop."
"Do you have anything to declare?"
"Are you talking to me?"
"Yes."
"I don't see anybody else here. Are you talking to me? We are the only ones here. Are you talking to me?"
"We? You said we?"
"I don't speak French."
"Not oui, we."
"Oh... yes... we. Smith, Wesson and me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, punk. I'm talking about the .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, capable of blowing your head clean off."
"I'm afraid you can't bring a firearm into Canada sir, at least not yet."
"You can take my gun when you pry it from my cold dead fingers."
"I'm afraid I'll have to insist."
"You just have to ask yourself one question, punk. Do I feel lucky? Well, punk, do you feel lucky? Well do you... Punk?"
"Lucky or not, I still have to seize your weapon."
"Go ahead, make my day."
ZZZZZZZZZTTTTTTTTT
"What was that?"
"I'm dreadfully sorry old man, I could see that chap was giving you a spot of trouble so, I gave him a few volts from my old graduating class taser ring. He'll be coming around soon, I suggest you disarm him before he does."
"Thanks, uh, er?"
"Bond, James Bond. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some rather pressing matters to attend to in this charming country of yours."
"Not so fast there Mr. Bond."
