I assume you have heard the great news that Operation Bieber-Free America is in full swing: Justin Bieber is behind bars—and no, not the ones he’s used to. You’re welcome. I will go on record as saying your nation is responsible for some great stuff: Astronaut extraordinaire Chris Hadfield, The Arcade Fire, Are You Afraid of the Dark?, PEANUT BUTTER, and the tuxedo that allows hipsters to own dress clothes. But for every one of your wins—would I really be remiss not to include the Ryans: Reynolds and Gosling?—there are copious catastrophic fails. See Rob Ford, Nickelback, Avril Lavigne—let’s say the majority of your musical exports—Tom Green, the exclamation eh?—do we have the time to list all your fails as the Arctic Circle melts and destroys the world (though, coincidentally you first)? As an aside, I guess I mean to also point out America’s seemingly short-sighted obsession over border security is actually quite warranted however misdirected. Mexico? We want to close them off now, but expect them to open up to us when the Arctic Circle becomes the Temperate? We’ve all seen the ending of the global warming epic The Day After Tomorrow. And I’m not even taking the easy route of noting Mexico’s exceptional cuisine and beverages because I know one is never to speak about a nation reductively.

Back to the point, America is finally taking a stand against you and your pervasive culture, and taking a stand in the biggest way possible: Your Bieber is locked up and well on his way back home. Our children are safe again. Do we like $800 bottles of Sizzurp? Does a dog love a toilet bowl? But do we also pair it with anti-depressants, smoke weed all day and have our dads block off Miami streets in preparation for a drag race? No, as a personal rule, we never mix our parents, especially our fathers, with our hobbies. Come on, Bieber, including your father? Amateur. Are you looking to be Britney Spears 2.0? Anyway, a nation can only be jabbed so many times, before we have to display our big stick, and Bieber—egging houses, what are you, 19?—is about to get our big stick.

You know, Canada, being old North American buddies we thought you’d step up, and wrangle in your citizens. We know, we know, no nation wants to take responsibility for its trainwrecks—note Dennis Rodman—but we thought you were big enough to intervene with Bieber when he tried releasing singles featuring Jaden Smith. Jaden Smith as in the After Earth screen legend. As if Bieber wasn’t doing enough damage to music on his own. But no, you let that slide, Canada?

So as a principal figure in Operation Bieber-Free America, I am coming to you, Canada, ready to negotiate on behalf of my nation. You take Bieber back, and we’ll let Michael J. Fox’s new unfunny comedy stay on the air. We’ll excuse Alex Trebek’s absurd ego and condescension. We’ll sponsor Drake’s next public cryfest. We’re even willing to negotiate on another Avril Lavigne record, keyword negotiate. Nickelback is out of the question. What I am saying (on the behalf of America and all of its peoples) is please shanghai Bieber to your infamous Alberta Oil Sands and we’ll do you two solids by one, never discussing said Sands again, and two, finding a way to do the same to Rob Ford.

If Bieber stays here, he’ll get our big stick, our big judicial stick, and even though he’s Bieber, he’s still yours. We’d never let Kim Jong-un touch our Rodman.

Also, we’ll still jam to “Somebody to Love,” mostly for Usher. Seems only fair we get something for putting up with him for as long as we did.