Paul looked out his office window at the front lawn of the Parliament Buildings, in Ottawa. His secretary buzzed him on the intercom. "I've got Downing Street on the line," she said. "They're trying to find Tony to take your call."

Paul looked down at the newspapers on his desk. The headline on one said, 'Fire Sale Subs'. Another headline said, 'Submarine Sandwich to Go'. Paul wasn't looking forward to his talk with Tony.

It seemed like only yesterday that Paul and Jean had pulled into the parking lot near London Bridge. They sat in the car looking at the big neon sign ringed by hypnotically dancing light bulbs. The sign said, 'Tony's Used Boats. Best Prices in the Commonwealth.'

"Dis must be the place," Jean said to Paul.

The two men had listened to Tony's radio advertisements as they drove around London, looking for a good curry restaurant. While Tony pitched his used boats, The Rolling Stones played, 'Can't always get what you want', in the background.

"Tony here, from Tony's Used Boats," Tony said on the radio ad. "Are you running a third world navy? Looking for something to beef up your firepower so you can invade your neighbor? Maybe you just need a good submarine to keep an eye on the whales. Whatever you're looking for, you'll find it at Tony's Used Boats. Come on down for a great deal."

Tony watched the two Canadians from his office window, as they got out of their car and wander down the pier. They were looking at a barnacle covered Russian Submarine when he caught up to them. The one with the lopsided mouth stopped to kick the old truck tire, they used to keep the boat from scrapping against the pier.

"Morning Gentlemen," Tony said to the two rubes. "I see you know your submarines. That's one of the finest Nuclear Subs in the world. Just recovered that off the coast of Greenland. Fortunately it went down in shallow water and we were able to pump it out and tow it back."

"I was tinking of something dat ran on gasoline," Jean said. "We don't want ta be melting down the boat with no running away reactor."

"Wise decision," Tony told the two men. "I've got just what you want. Four of the sweetest little subs you've ever seen. Almost brand new. Only driven by a little old Admiral on Sundays."

Tony led the two men down an alley and back behind a factory building, to a rotting old pier where the four subs sat covered with canvas tarps.

Tony gave the hicks his biggest salesman smile. "They're a couple of years old but all they need is a little paint-maybe change the oil, and you're on your way."

As they toured one of the subs, Jean and Paul held their noses from the smell of mothballs. "I thought dat when they said moth balling a boat they were speaking metaphorically." Jean said to Tony.

"See any moths down here?" the salesman asked.

The two Canadians looked around and shook their heads.

"See. It works."

In the control room water dripped down the metal hull. Paul tripped over a pile of wire lying on the deck. "What's all that?" he asked Tony.

The used sub salesman bent down and looked at the wires. "That's the antennae for the Frabit," he said. "Very hush hush. Top secret. If I told you what it was I'd have to steal your wallet." The Canadians laughed. They always thought it was funny to joke about stealing other people's money.

"Do you take trade-ins?" Jean asked Tony.

"Depends what you have."

"We got some nice Sea King Helicopters."

"Blimey they haven't made those things in 30 years."

"Dey are well maintained," Jean told him. "Twenty hours in the shop for every hour in the air."

"Well. I might have somebody in Africa could used them for parts."

When they got back to his office, Tony buzzed his secretary and had her bring in a sales contract. "Just the usual stuff," he told the boys. "No need to read the fine print."

In his Parliament building office, Paul was looking at the contract they'd signed in London. Tony finally came on the line.

"I'd like to help you," Tony said to Paul. "But you know, a deal is a deal. If you'll look at the fine print you'll see you bought those subs As Is. Sure we agreed to get them running. But after that you're on your own."

"Oh dear, oh dear," Paul moaned.

"I don't need to tell you that I'm in a bit of hot water over this Iraq War," Tony said. "Which you didn't sign up for, I might add. Don't appreciate you letting the team down like that. Tell you what. Gives us a little help over there and we'll see about doing something with your problem."

"I don’t know Tony. The war's not too popular over here either."

"Too bad Paul. By the way, my secretary tells me they just mailed out a bill for towing that sub back to port. You chaps really should take better care of your equipment."

Paul called Jean. "What da heck you expect me to do about it. You're the boss now. I got my own worries with this sponsor ship scandal. They're roasting my behind here."

Paul had no choice. He'd run out of options. He called Sven Robinson. "Sven, it's good to hear your voice," Paul said. "How'd you like to be ambassador to Uzbekistan? That's great. We can arrange that. There's just one little problem you might be able to help me with. I got a couple of subs I want to have disappear…..