The Fez enters the room, fresh from the sitting rooms of the castle and resplendent in the full dress uniform of a brigadier general. He weaves slightly, drunk on the king's own brandy, canadian whiskey. ('thass canadian whisky!) The Fez carefully maneuvers his way over to a lieutenant colonel who has just put the finishing touches on a three-deck house of cards; he leans over the man's boarded shoulder and breathes in deeply through his nose, making a stuffed sniffing sound. Focusing his watery eyes, he deliberately reaches out and removes an integral card on the bottom row. The house seems to lean slightly to the left, then slightly to the right before settling back to its original position.

Fez presses his erratic beard to the side of the colonel's stunned face: "That," he whispers solemnly, his spittle running down the colonel's ear, "is leadership."

He begins roaring with laughter and promptly passes out, falling through a small coffee table and snoring loudly into the floorboards.

--A Dangerous Evening in Canada--

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