Part Two:   The Border is Just a Line on a Map eh?

B: = Bubba   S: = Skeeter

The last we heard of the boys ... they had just decided to go down to San Diego to ask The Flutie about the Bills he had to  pay. They hoped into the truck ... with $20,000US of Vlad's cash ... and drove off to the western sunset. We pick up the adventure with the boys approaching the border between the United States of America and the Grand  Jewel of a Nation that is Canada.

B: " Look over there ... it's some buildings out in the middle of nowhere."

S: " And they are making us stop ... who is that big dude with the badge that has a flag on his arm."

US Customs: " State your nation of origin."

B: " I iz a biggin Canadian."

Customs: " And you sir?" pointing at Skeeter.

S: " Me iza one of those too eh."

Customs: " Where are you going and for how long?"

B: " We iz gonna go dwn to iz the Super Bowl iz thing."

Customs: " Do you have anything to declare?"

S: " The Greenies iz gonna win the Cup this year."

B: " My butt hurts from drivin."

Customs: " No! Do you have anything of value to declare?"

S: " If you iz wait by a vending machine long enough ... you know by the trash can ... you can make a buck in

       bottles."

Customs: " I'm getting annoyed with you two."

B: " We iz just answerin you sire."

By now the customs agent is really ticked and he starts to do a little search of the pickup. When he gets to the back of the truck ... he wipes off the inch of dirt off the license plate. It was a Saskatchewan plate. That stopped the customs agents  search.

Customs: " I'm sorry sirs. I didn't realize that you guys were Flatlanders. We get you guys crossing over by

                  the Saskatchewan border so we're used to your kind over there."

B: " Huh?"

Customs: " No need to declare anything. Everyone knows you guys have nothing of any value.........."

Just then a VW Van came barreling to a halt. Their stereo was playing loud Islamic music and the driver yelled to the Customs agent ........

Driver: " I'm Achmed el Habbib and I am an Canadian citizen ... I must pass and enter the United Evil Republic."

Customs: " Proceed sir."

Driver: " Thank you you filthy Yankee swine!"

The VW then sped off with the drive firing an Oozie into the air.

Customs: " So ... since you guys have nothing to declare ... I just have this form for you to fill out. just routine."

So the boys each filled out a 75 page questionnaire about their lives and everywhere they'd ever been. There was this one line which was odd ... but the boys had no trouble signing it. They just had to pledge their love for everything that is Toronto. Though the boys thought this strange for an American official to make them sign ... it was a common occurance in Canada though.

So now the boys were in the Great United States of America. All they had to do was follow the highway all the way down to the Super Bowl. A number of hours passed and the boys had yet to see anything. Mile after mile of nothing.  Then they saw a sign for a historical site ... and they turned off to see it.

B: " It's down this road to Chief Stickafingerinyoureye Memorial site."

S: " Wow ... look at all that!"

There it was ... an amazing display of Americana at its best. There were gift shop after gift shop. Fast food outlets ... hotels ... motels ... waffle houses ... Goodyear Tire stores ... Sears.   All surrounding this 5x7 plaque.

' Here lies Chief Stickafingerinyoureye ... who was the first native American to get dust out of natives eyes

   using his finger'

B: " This is neat ... we don't have this back home."

S: "Nah...these Yanks can really put on a show."

So the boys went back to the highway.

Hour after hour their journey progressed. Mile after mile of vastness ... that is only occasionally broken up by odd Service  Center Oasis. Gift shop after gift shop with native wares ... that are always the same and for the same price.

They drove through Utah ... with Skeeter constantly saying...

S: " U Tah ... I Tah ... a Pooty Cat!"

The boys did a short stopover to see the Great Salt Lake ...

S: " Hmm ... look at all those folks just walking on the water. And each old guy has five or six women hanging

       on to him."

B: " I hear there's a lot of relations of Ethel Mermon living here."

B: " Maybe we should walk on the Salt water?"

S: " Nah ... I just walk on water all the time back home."

B: " But ... that's only in January and February."

S: " It's still water ... dude."

Back on the interstate ... the boys progressed down the road. Mile after daunting mile did they drive. Fifty seven McDonald's for every twenty miles. Mile after mile ... until!

S: " Bubb's! That sign says Las Vegas!"

B: " Viva Las Vegas! We got to stop there for a bit."

S: " Sure ... we don't have to see The Flutie till next week. We can stop and win some cash."

B: " Well ... they do call it Lost Wages for a reason."

S: " Lucky for us we don't make wages."

B&S: " To the Strip!!"

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