Justin ‘The Sock’ was sitting at the card table along with Deputy Prime Minister Chrystia ‘Red Dress’ Freeland, Premier ‘Model T’ Ford, and Alberta Premier Jason ‘Oil Can’ Kenney.
A prime minister, his loyal deputy, two premiers and one prime minister-premier Hybrid – Quebec Premier Francois ‘Frenchy’ Legault who is bringing in legislation that is “essential for the survival and development of our nation.”
(Quebec the nation, not Canada the nation.)
All had to do the Trudeau thing and take off their shirts in case they had something up their sleeves.
Remembering the lessons of Canada’s military Generals, Freeland was allowed to remain fully clothed so there would be no allegations of sexual misconduct surfacing a couple of decades later.
They were trying to decide who would be the dealer, and someone mentioned that he thought Ford at one time was a dealer. Model T assumed the role.
They moved on to determine what card game they would play.
Stud poker was rejected by Trudeau as being misogynistic, Old Maid was shunned with Freeland at the table, and Crazy Eights was too close to their thought processes. Any game that required Trump to win was discarded.
Finally, they agreed on Black Jack, since it honoured racial equality. They would be playing against the dealer Model T, but the rules changed constantly, mirroring typical political behaviour.
The table rules were that if you lost one hand, you were out of the game.
Trudeau was dealt a king, a really good hole card often played by his father.
“I’ll bet one million doses of AstraZeneca,” Trudeau said.
Ford mulled over the bet and said, “I’ll see your AstraZeneca and raise it another million doses.”
Ford figured he had nothing to lose, since the vaccine was past the expiry date by the time he bet.
When the dealing was done, Trudeau had 19 and Model T, 18.
Trudeau was the winner.
“I won the vaccine, I won the vaccine,” crowed the prime minister in dramatic fashion.
“Good luck with that,” commented Ford, with a sly look. He was out of the game.
Oil Can Kenney’s cards kept slipping out of his hands – just like his popularity – and he was ejected.
Three were left at the table.
“Play on,” said Red Dress.
The Hybrid took over dealing, but he was upset because everyone was talking English.
“Il faut qu’on parle,” Legault demanded.
“Qui? Qui?” said Trudeau as headed for a bathroom break.
“You, you,” replied the Hybrid.
When Trudeau returned, Freeland was burning her bra and Hybrid was on the phone with someone named Yves-Francois ‘Bloc’ Blanchet.
“What does this behaviour mean?” asked The Sock upon his return.
Freeland stoked the bra blaze, the Hybrid hung up the phone and both turned to Trudeau.
“It means,” explained Red Dress, who like any good politician traded loyalty in exchange for power, “the game is over and you are out and. I have the backing of the Hybrid and Bloc.”
But she felt sorry for The Sock.
“Why the black face?” Freeland said, sympathetically.
“I gave that up years ago,” Trudeau protested.
Tears formed in Trudeau’s eyes.
Once a drama teacher, always a drama queen.