At the Chemin sur la Fouf customs/immigration entry point...
The car in front of them drives off, et puis it is now the turn of the female American Rick Steves poster and her husbear. She is driving.
She (to husbear): 'I'll handle it this time...(to Customs agent) 'Um, Bonjour monsieur!'
Agent LaMarsh (grunts): 'Passports, s'il vous plait.' After a cursory glance at the two documents, he says with more volume than is necessary:
'DO YOU SUBMEET TO ANSAIR ZE NEW REQUIRED QUESTIONNAIRE?!'
The husband is taken aback at this unexpected question and closes the 'Golf's 100 Greatest Moments' magazine that he'd been reading. A quizzical concerned look covers his face.
She (confused): 'Uh...sure. Um, do you mean...like, we now hafta...?'
Agent LaMarsh: 'Bah oui madame...regulation #73...just passed by Parliament. Je commence.'
LaMarsh unscrolls a long piece of parchment then clears his throat.
The husband: 'Why don't they have it down on a digital screen?'
LaMarsh ignores the query and commences with the first question:
'Are Canada and America both membairz of the CUSMA trade agreement?'
She hesitates, so her husband answers 'yes'.
LaMarsh continues with the second question: 'What does FLQ stand for?'
She: 'Well, doesn't that stand for those terrorists here...like back during the '60s and '70s. Right?'
LaMarsh ignores her and launches into question three:
'Ave you evair 'ad any impure thoughts about our recent Prime Ministair Justin Trudeau?'
At this, she blushes a deep red then asks Agent LaMarsh in a quiet voice, almost a whisper: 'Can we just be let through?'
I am done. Welcome all to Canada.
