Act I Scene i
Three witches are gathered around a boiling cauldron; the third witch reading the Toronto Sun, the second witch reading the National Post, while the first witch is typing a message to the Globe and Mail on her laptop, in the midnight gloom.
First Witch: Rubble, rubble, toil, and bubble…
Second Witch: What can we do to cause the PM trouble?…
Third Witch: Remove his mask, and all of its day-old stubble.
First Witch: But lo! sister Jane and sister CC, a rider approaches…
Second and Third Witch [at the same time]: Sister Jody, it is MacTrudeau! [the witches scatter from the pot, and commune in secret behind the maple tree, as the rider enters].
MacTrudeau [dismounting from his horse]: What have we here? A boiling p-pott? [then, leaning forward to smell the soup]: Gadzooks! It has the aroma of the south end of my horse while travelling north. What manner of manure have the weird sisters thought to concoct this time? [then, looking around and espying these 3 amigos, diligently spying on him from behind a maple tree] Lo there! You 3! What fare do you prepare for our Canadian brothers and sisters this election?
First Witch: Dear PM, this is nothing about you.
Second Witch: Nothing about you, but everything about you.
Third Witch: Um…
MacTrudeau [aside]: This is most strange and unnerving. How can something not be, but still be? What they prepare has the smell of merde de cheval and the stench of veiled secrecy is round about. How can they expect voters to partake of the fare they have prepared? I must suss out their true purpose…[turning to the Witches] See hear! I can smell the horse manure you are cooking up from a mile away. Be careful that the good people you try to feed this to don’t bury you up to your eyeballs and over your lips in it in the coming cauldron cook-off! But never mind that for now. I need you to answer one simple question: Will we Liberals win the election?
First Witch [bending over the p-pott, sniffing to make sure it has enough parsley, sage, and bullshit]: No you will not. Enough have already partaken of our cauldron’s mixture of lies and misdirection, with a healthy dollop of bulroney on crackers for a side. They will look at you, they will listen to you, but they will see and hear Scheer or Singh. And they will vote for Scheer or Singh.
Second Witch [giggling with excitement and admiration for her big sister]: And those two will do their best to make themselves to look like prime ministerial, as you do.
Third Witch: Um…
MacTrudeau: But why is it that you do not cast spells to make Scheer and Singh look like me, the way you can make me look like Scheer and Singh?
First Witch: That is because the Great Bard thought it mete to provide us with only one cauldron, for all eternity.
Second Witch: We need more potts to cook up that much bull-oney.
Third Witch: We can ask for more money from our movement conservative brethren in the south to help us? The warlock is a citizen among them as well as here…
First and Second Witch [emphatically and in unison]: Shut up, already!
Third Witch [casting a downward glance]: Um…okay…[aside]: What’s wrong with what I said? I was only telling the truth [A look of revelation passes over her face]: Oh yeah, I forgot. Truth isn’t part of the recipe [then, turning to her sisters]: Um…sorry.