Hi, David Lemieux. Whatcha doing?

“Thirst trapping.”

The drip is fierce. When is GQ doing a style article about you?

“Grateful Mort actually slid into my DMs the other day. He called my aesthetic ‘Backyardcore.'”

Not incorrect. How’s life during plague time up in Canada?

“Not too shabby. We’ve been listening to the scientists, considering the needs of others, and making minor modifications to our personal behavior that provide great benefits to society. How about you?”

The opposite of that.

“Yeah. I know. I was just being polite.”


“It’s why we’ve had to posse up.”


“Well, the main vector for new Canadian infections is visiting Americans. They say they’re driving to Alaska, but they’re fibbers. They’re damnable fibbers. Sorry about the language, but this has me hot.”

Don’t worry about it.

“I can understand the lure of the Great North. It’s not White now, but it’s still Great. The beauty of our land is surpassed solely by the kindness in our hearts.”

All true.

“But even the kindest Canadian can be pushed too far.”

You mentioned something about a posse?

“We’ve been hunting Americans.”

Aw, man. You were, like, the last sane man. Corona’s driven everyone else blitzoid, but you were keeping it together.

“I’m still even-keeled, man. We’re not bloodthirsty maniacs. No one’s gotten hurt.”

No one?

“No one’s gotten hurt on purpose. There’s been a mishap or two.”

Explain to me what you’re doing, Dave.



“Americans visiting Canada are required to self-quarantine for 14 days, at which point they’re issued a Certificate of Compliance. And they’re real nice certificates, too. Fancy paper, embossed printing, hologram.”

Not really the point.

“So we, the posse, patrol the streets and ask Americans to see their Certificates of Compliance.”

How do you know people are Americans?

“You can tell.”

Okay. What if they don’t have one?

“That’s when the mishaps occur.”

Uh-huh. David?


That’s what I said.

“Oh, right, you did. Sorry about that. I assumed.”

David, is this posse a governmental body of any sort?

“A couple of the guys are fire fighters.”

You and your drunken buddies are rampaging through town attacking people you suspect of being Americans, aren’t you?

“That’s an uncharitable reading of the situation.”


“I’ll never apologize for my patriotism.”

What about the stranger-beating?

“That falls under patriotism’s umbrella.”

You’re not David Lemieux, are you?


Get out of his body!


No, not really. Did you eat David Lemieux?

“How many times do I have to explain this: We don’t ‘eat’ people. It’s more like a corporate takeover, but with screaming.”


“There’s a lot of screaming. Not gonna lie.”

Okay, start from the beginning. Who are you?

“Steve Harris.”


“Yeah, you got me. But it would be a lot easier for you to call me that.”

Lemme guess: I can’t pronounce your real name?

“Not without two or three more tongues.”


“Also, the fourth through ninth syllables are communicated telepathically.”

Got it.

“And there’s a concurrent scent.”

A what?

“My native language is partially odor-based.”


“Bookstores can get a bit whiffy.”

We’re drifting from the main topic: Who are you and why are you here?

“As I told Oteil, I represent a group known as…well, you couldn’t say that, either. Which is a shame, because our name is super-cool. Anyway, we’re pirates, kind of. Pirates would be the closest approximation in your culture. Except instead of sailboats, we have omniships.”


“They go anywhere. Instantly.”

Sounds useful.

“Gamechanger. And we have rapebots.”

That sounds awful.

“It was literally the worst thing we could think of. Turns out the be one of the best investments we ever made.”

How so?

“Well, you only gotta use your rapebot army once or twice. Once everyone knows you have one, and that you’re willing to use it, life gets a lot easier. You hear ‘Yes’ a lot more after deploying the rapebots.”

Stop talking about rapebots. Why are you here?

“When the Murder Heist calls, you pick up the phone, braj.”

I don’t care what the Enthusiasts think; this is the worst storyline in a long time.

“It’s not as bad as the time Alex Jones demanded to take a shit in Josh Meyer’s RV.”