As all Canadians are aware and no one else, an election is nigh! Hide your children, hide your spouse! (Unless they are sensible, educated voters.)
My nation, be thankful, for I will tell you exactly how it will go.
On October 21st, the polite, maple-scented masses will head off to their voting stations, as dictated by those cards they got in the mail. The poll booth workers will feast upon donuts and speculation about outcomes and each other’s personal lives.
One party will get more MPs elected than any other party, in accordance with ancient custom.
The MPs of the dominant party will gather under the light of the full moon to discuss who shall lead them and the country. Traditionally, it’s whoever leads their party at the time, but that tradition is not law.
And so they will discuss, under shadow and baleful moonlight. Voices will be raised. Blood will be spilt. But a consensus will be reached. It will become clear that only one person has the correct spirit necessary to lead us through these dark ages of Trump, climate change, and the wars between the streaming media platforms –
Undead John A Macdonald. For could Trudeau, Singh, May, That Generic White Dude That’s Leader of the Conservative Party be relied upon to vomit on Donald Trump?
Could they provide such a delectable target for First Nations people suffering from the results of a century of his policies?
Could they show the nation what a real party looks like, with little umbrellas in each and every glass?
No. This, the MPs shall realise and make the unholy experiments in consequence.
The Queen shall have no choice but to accept.
You heard it here first.
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