I got a call from the PMO’s office recently that the prime minister wanted to have a top secret emergency meeting with me about a disastrous situation that was unfolding and he needed my help and advice. I thought somebody in the office was playing a prank on me, like the time when they had me go to Hamilton to interview a guy who claimed he was Elvis Presley. He didn’t even look like Elvis.
I asked her why this “important” meeting wasn’t being discussed in the PMO’s office and she said that Paul Martin had so many “bugs” planted in the PMO’s office that it would be like talking into Martin’s ear. She said that one of these listening devices had even been planted in the prime minister’s mother’s picture.
I agreed to the meeting.
A limo stopped in front of The Senator restaurant in Toronto the following morning. I hustled out and was frisked by four husky men. Next thing I knew, I was alone in the restaurant. Suddenly, I heard footsteps from behind me and a slightly built man was hurrying towards me. I mistook him for a waiter and asked: “I’d like to order a Famous Grouse with water on the side.” He answered. “I am the prime minister of de country.”
“Sorry, Mr. Crouton, I mistook you for a waiter.”
“Stop calling me Crouton. You’re always calling me Crouton.”
“Sorry. What can I do for you?” I enquired.
“Frank, I know you can help me. I’ve just had a visit from Pierre Trudeau!”
“Oh? I thought he was dead.”
“He is. It was an apparition! Suddenly, Pierre was standing there at the bottom of my bed wearing a dirty white cloak, staring at me with his eyes hallowed out. It was frightening.”
“I’ve a question for you. What were you drinking the night before?”
“Nothing,” he said indignantly. “I was as sober as Preston Manning.”
“What was Pierre Trudeau doing in your dreams?”
“It wasn’t a dream! We carried on a conversation just like we are doing at dis moment.”
“Where was he calling from – purgatory?”
“Yes. And I thought purgatory was just for dead Tories.”
“What did Pierre have to say?”
“He was given de chance to come back and to warn me of horrible things that are going to happen to Canada if we don’t repent.”
“What? Joe Clark got back in as prime minister?”
“No, worse den that. We must turn back de clock.”
“What – to Eastern Standard Time?”
“No. We must stop the killing of unborn babies or a series of horrible calamities are going to occur.”
“What has Pierre being doing down there – reading The Interim?” I wondered.
“Pierre’s middle name is ‘Regret.’ He’s a sorry man. He told me that he’s sorry he killed millions of unborn babies when he deliberately put the abortion ‘item’ among 108 other ‘items’ in an omnibus bill in order to weaken resistance to it. He’s sorry he threw pro-lifers like Father Ted and Linda Gibbons in jail. He’s sorry he fooled Canadians into accepting the permissive society. He’s sorry he made laws to destroy Parliament and make judges kings. He’s sorry he called Morgentaler ‘a good friend, a fine humanitarian and a true humanist.’ He’s sorry he didn’t promote Christian morality and that he bulldozed secular humanism through Parliament. He’s sorry he okayed pills to kill unborn babies. He’s sorry he okayed selling condoms to little kids. He’s sorry he treated marriage like selling a car. He’s sorry he didn’t stay in the nation’s bedrooms. Sorry for his hands-off attitude towards morality that created a climate in which media sexploitation, pornography and prostitution flourish. Sorry he didn’t leave gays in de closet. He’s sorry that he thought euthanasia would get older drivers off the road. Sorry for pushing causes like the Planned Parenthood Federation’s anti-life agenda. Sorry for government financing of pro-abortion radical feminism. Sorry for yelling ‘Viva Castro!’ Sorry for championing Stalin and Mao Tse Tung.”
“Heavens! It sounds like Trudeau has joined the Christian Heritage Party!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, Frank, he sure talks like one of dem and he wants me to join it too!”
“Yes! How could I do it? Me a devout Liberal? Or do you think dat I could take the Liberal Party into the Christian Heritage Party?”
“Why not?” I said. “After all, Trudeau took the Liberal Party into the Hedonist Party.”