I wonder how Giant Gaston and Faceless Habs Fan are doing, tucked away in a dark storage shed thousands of miles away, while I roam the streets of Montreal, free as a bird.
I’m feeling guilty. Maybe I should send them some poutine!
Cheer up boys. Just don’t fight. And share your Penthouse magazines.
If you’re good, I’ll send for you.
It’s not the first time Gaston’s been locked up, and a storage shed can’t be as bad as San Quentin. And Faceless? Who knows how he’s feeling. His face is slightly hard to read.
They’re probably fine. I’m just being a dad.