“Sir,” said an officer in the United States Centre For Watching Every Move Those Shifty Snow Communists Make, housed in an old football stadium in Buffalo, New York. “Sir? You’d better come and have a look at this. It’s the Canadians. They’ve disappeared.”
In a nationwide exercise that the strange band of far-northerners that call themselves Canucks never seem to tire of, Canada today deployed their state-of-the-art cloaking device – disappearing from the prying eyes of an increasingly aggressive world behind a whirling blanket of white and cold that they call “Scattered Flurries”.
“We are still here, and can hear you,” confirmed Environment Canada, to the bemused outside world, as planes that had been inbound to the reclusive nation circled in holding patterns, wondering which particular part of the snowferno was an international airport. And why any of their passengers wanted to land in the middle of a nearly 10 million square kilometre walk-in freezer.
“This is just a test of our national invisibility device, and is separate from our international invisibility device, which actually just a function of our foreign policy. Additionally, were this a real emergency, you would not hear us complaining about how cold our cloaking device is, and what a pain it is to shovel.”
Owners of the only whole-country invisibility cloak in existence, the Canadians take great pride in their ability to blend into the Arctic on demand, regularly reminding both friends and foes alike that if things go south between Canada and any other nation, it is the other country that will have to march for weeks across thousands of diabolics of winter to either apologize or attack (it doesn’t matter which, as they’ll never make it).
World leaders had a variety of reactions to the peaceful nation’s strategic disappearance.
“I don’t have to see something to hate it,” said U.S. President Donald Trump, in an apparent reference to his abiding dislike of Canada; as well as science, and universal human rights.
“They call this cloak?” asked Vladimir Putin, turning his nose up at the uniform, nearly coast-to-coast whiteout the Canadians are today experiencing. “In Russia we call this heatwave.” The president then removed his shirt, exposing two polar bear cubs suckling on his chest, and laughed without mirth.
And across the Atlantic, the U.K.’s Theresa May expressed cautious interest. “So you’re saying Canada can just … disappear?” the prime minister said, looking at Ireland askance.
While the Canadians are expected to quickly tire of being hidden, the consensus amongst the generally pacifist human popsicles that call America’s frozen attic home, is that they like knowing that if the proverbial Trump ever hits the button, “We can always just pull a winter storm over top of us and diss-the-hell-appear.”