[ WP ] Canadian soldiers of fortune , tell us about `` The Eh Team ''

A man walks into a bar in Montreal. 
 
 `` Hello bartender,'' he says, `` I'd like a shot of maple syrup and a shot of whisky, please.'' 
 
 The bartender looks at him suspiciously. 
 
 `` Yu no,'' the bartender says, in a thick French Canadian accent, `` only zee Eh teem can ordr such a drink in Mon real.'' 
 
 `` Indeed,'' the man says, `` I am a member of the Eh team.'' 
 
 Suddenly, several hulking men step out of the shadows of the bar. They are dripping in weaponry of all sorts: guns, knives, grenades. Their muscles are bigger than watermelons, even the Canadian kind. They are, in a word, impressive. 
 
 One of them speaks, a man with a blond crew cut and a long scar down his cheek. 
 
 `` That's interesting,'' the scarred man says, `` because we are the Eh team, and we do n't remember initiating you.'' 
 
 `` Oh, that's strange,'' the man says, strangely unintimidated. `` I am a member, however.'' 
 
 `` Ok,'' the scarred man says, `` if you say so.'' 
 
 The hulking men start to return to the shadows. But the bartender is displeased. 
 
 `` You Eh teem!'' he shouts. `` How will u let this impostair defile ur dignity? Why wuld you not keel him? Whut about ur Canadian pride?'' 
 
 The rest of the hulking men disappear. Only the scarred man remains. With a quiet dignity, he turns to the bartender and shrugs his massive shoulders. 
 
 `` Eh,'' he says.
