[ WP ] `` Torture is counter to our values . '' remarked the Canadian Inquisitor .

The Mountie chucked me into my cell. Not harshly, but just hard enough that he could close the door by the time I regained my feet. “ Soory! ” I rubbed my face and took a deep breath. I would get through this. 
 
 I looked around and the cell was adequately provisioned. I had a cot and a toilet/sink combo. On the sink was a cup of still steaming Tim Horton ’ s coffee and some Timbits. Rush was playing over the intercom, not loud enough to be annoying, but still loud enough to be audible. 
 
 I sat down and waited for the interrogation. Canadian special forces broke into my home at night and dragged me across the border. I was prepared for the worst. They couldn ’ t break me. 
 
 The door opened and a 20 something girl popped her head in. “ Oh hello there! I ’ ll be takin ya to the interrogation room if you don ’ t mind, eh? ” 
 
 “ Fine fine. ” 
 
 I stood and put my hands on my head and stepped forward. 
 
 “ Oh, that won ’ t be necessary. What do you think this is, eh? ” 
 
 She lead me into the room and had me sit in a lay-z-boy chair. 
 
 “ Make yourself comfortable, the Inquisitor will be right along. ” 
 
 I pulled the lever and kicked up my feet. I may as well get some rest if I ’ m going to be here. 
 
 I must have been dozing because the door slammed and I started awake. 
 
 “ So, I see that you have make yourself comfortable here. Good. Good. ” 
 
 I leaned forward and collapsed the chain into a sitting position. “ Do your worst. ” 
 
 “ Soory? ” 
 
 “ You kidnapped me in the middle of the night, took me to this holding cell, and now are here to question me. ” 
 
 “ You are correct on one account, I am here for answers. ” 
 
 “ Do your worst. ” 
 
 “ What do you mean? Torture is counter to our values. ” 
 
 He took a sip of Tim Horton ’ s Coffee. The smell filled the room. I could really go for a coffee right now. 
 
 “ Oh? You forgot your coffee back in your room. No matter. I ’ ve brought it for you. ” 
 
 I greedily took it and drank down the rich, full bodied liquid. 
 
 The inquisitor smirked, “ but you don ’ t have any Timbits here. ” 
 
 I didn ’ t. 
 
 “ I could get you some, but first, I need answers. ” 
 
 “ You ’ ll never get the answers you want out of me! ” I took another sip of coffee and yearned for the fried doughy goodness of the Timbit. 
 
 “ ANSWERS FIRST! ” 
 
 “ NO! ” 
 
 The inquisitor pulled out a box of Timbits. He saw how I lusted after them and smirked. “ Tell me, how could you possibly fall asleep at a Celine Dion concert. ”
