"This amateur sketch ..."
Why don't we have these types of stories in Canada? We never have neighbourhood watchdog parties with guys wearing grills like they just returned from eating the entire line of Transformers, but know they must still try to stay humble by donning caps in a particular shade of crayon to remind women they're also soft on the inside so won't you let them holla at cha and grab your Black Irish booty? ("Just a little bit," as Enoch once said during art class.)
And why didn't my great-great-grandfather pass down an ancient leprechaun flute to me? I WANT A LEPRECHAUN FLUTE! Although, I suspect that man in the full military regalia must have a tendency to confuse everyone with his dealer. I mean, what sort of a person walks down the street carrying a crack pipe and tries to convince people it's a Lucky Charms dog whistle?