Well, that means you two will have to talk first, and then get down to business. Right? Or you'll go for seconds? Or maybe she talks about dead babies, women shot to pieces, a near endless stream of corruption, rotting carcasses in the streets. I'm pretty sure that will drive you wild enough to rip all the clothes off your body (maybe just the socks, as the rest lies scattered in the bedroom), crash through a window or three, hijack a taxi (throwing the driver out the door, carefully), drive drive drive, plow Bush's front lawn (the grass, that is), crash into the White House, start screaming and bawling for that son of a bitch to show his ugly face, and then proceed to strangle him with your bare hands, using other bodily parts of yours whenever and in whatever way you damn well please (always nice to picture a foot rammed into Bush's throat). Feel free to light a cigarette afterward. If in the unlikely event you get out alive (because by that time Security has found out something happened to their Chief), I can pretty much guarantee that Lara will marry you. And they lived happily ever after. You'll be a real American Hero, something not easily attained by Canadians.