Episode 6: Angry Clothed Dove

Major Characters: John Diefenbaker, Charlotte, John A Macdonald, Desmond Collins, Rene Levesque, Don Flemming, Pierre Trudeau

Minor Characters: White dove, Max Aitken, Kaiser Wilhelm, Will Ferguson, Pierre Berton, Horatio Sanz, Fat Man, Bill.

{Opening Credits}

{Exterior: Diefenbaker's. Interior: Diefenbaker's, Rene and John A. Are at one end of the bar. Desmond is at the other. Diefenbaker is tending bar and Charlotte is sitting in the middle, next to the dove who is pecking birdseed from a bowl. She has a lot of room to either side.}

ANNOUNCER: Diefenbaker's is filmed in front of a live studio audience. Except there's no studio. And it's not live.

DIEF: We really gotta get rid of that guy.

CHARLOTTE: You could always cut the production values to that of a Canadian drama. {Charlotte is hit in head with boom mike falling from ceiling.}

DESMOND: {Hunched over books scribbling hurriedly.} Royalty cheque to Mike MacDonald... I'm telling you boss, I don't know how you manage to stay in business.

JOHN A: Uh Dief, We're going to need another bottle of your second least expensive whisky over here.

DESMOND: Right. No liquor laws. {Scribbling again} Partial royalty cheque to Matt Groening {Sucks on end of pen} Monthly royalty installment cheque to Matt Groening. {Close up on Desmond} You know Chief, we could always rip off artists who no longer hold copyrights because they're deceased.

DIEF: Wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa?

DESMOND: Well that's one example, but I was thinking of something more timeless.

DIEF: Wah, wahhhhhhhhhh.

DESMOND: Yeah, that'll work. {Back to full bar view}

CHARLOTTE: What an absolutely go nowhere joke. Always good to see someone aiming for the 80 and deader demographic.

DESMOND: I'm sorry I didn't hear you I was too busy saving you from oblivion!

CHARLOTTE: We're talking about the end of the universe that was nearly brought on by your temper tantrum over the tied vote?

DESMOND: Yes! No! Uh... Shut up! It wouldn't have been tied if Dief had managed to keep his caucus together!

DIEF: Where the hell are Myron and Don anyway? {Cut to a field of white roses, Myron and Don Flemming are holding hands and skipping through the field. Cut back.}

RENE: Who cares? Is it relevant to the plot?

JOHN A: Yes.

RENE: En Francais sil vous plait.

DIEF: Oy. {Rene slaps his palm against his head}

JOHN A: Oui.

RENE: I never thought I'd hear French mangled that badly.

DESMOND: Give him a break Levesque, he can barely complete a sentence in English.

DIEF: Now, Bueller, that's not... un... false?

JOHN A: Dief?

DIEF: Gah?

JOHN A: Booze.

DIEF: Muh.

JOHN A: Speaking of which miss, you're going to need a job.

CHARLOTTE: What incredibly wacky industry might that be in? Perhaps we could have a montage in which stupid people give me stupid jobs and I debate between murder and suicide.

DESMOND: No, I'm sorry, we can only afford one per season. We'll have to do some sort of humorous scene transition. {Close up on Charlotte.}

CHARLOTTE: Oh no, there's no way that you're going to get me to go along with a humorous scene transition like that. {Pan out from Charlotte, but now she's sitting at a desk wearing a press-man's hat.} I now hate everyone. {Pull out to show Pierre Berton in shirt sleves. Also Dove is in cage on Charlotte's desk.}

BERTON: Okay, you've got the cynicism and the misanthropy down, are there any other skills that you bring to the table that will let me hire you as a reporter.

CHARLOTTE: Well I think I used to be a word processor, but then again I have amnesia and I'm fast on my way to drinking to forget everything that I hadn't already forgotten. Wait, I've already got a desk and this hat, how am I not hired already?

BERTON: Okay, typing skills, disability, alcoholism, and an inquisitive mind. You're in!

CHARLOTTE: If you're not going to dignify that, then neither am I. What exactly do you want me to report on today?

BERTON: Well you're a rookie, so we're going to give you a beat that will let you prove yourself, before moving on to the important stuff: The Gorffwysfan parliament! I want three hundred drunkenly scrawled words on my desk by next week. {Charlotte just stares at him.} Now, I've got to go see why I never see that Joe Shuster around whenever there's an emergency.

 {Cut to junk yard. Joe is staggering around the junkyard taking swigs from a bottle.}
JOE SHUSTER: That's it me! We're having it out! {Punches a pile of scrap metal.} Ow! My hand! {Collapses to ground crying.} I miss my Lois. And Chip and Trixie and Dot and Ditto. But not Hi. Fuck Hi. {Cut back to news desk.}

BERTON: Ah well not important. Here at the Gorffwysfa Realm and Message, we try to report the news so objectively that we're well on our way to eliminating words entirely.

CHARLOTTE: You're double plus un-smart.

{Exterior: Parliament buildings. Interior House of Commons: Kaiser Wilhelm is in the speaker's chair. Desmond is sitting on the back benches with his feet up. Cut tight on Desmond.}

DESMOND: Ah, this is the life, getting to watch some of the greatest debates of all time, but not really having to pay too much attention to the tedious bits. It's almost as if this were some sort of tightly edited show. Where was I? Oh yeah, my taint is made of bacon. {Cut to Kaiser.}

KAISER: The speaker recognizes the Right Honourable Prime Minister. {Cut to Trudeau. He is wearing a WWII German trooper's uniform.}

PIERRE: Thank you Mister Speaker. It is my pleasure to introduce the first act of this government into legislation. The Gorffwyfsan cultural content act. This act will restrict musical, theatrical, and other media to a maximum of 25% non-Gorffwysfan content. The Ministry of Culture will be empowered to determine the nature of Gorffwysfan culture. this act is necessary to preserve the cultural, and ultimately, the political, independence of our realm. {Some cheering by members on the government side. Cut back to Kaiser.}

KAISER: All in favour of accepting this bill upon first reading for further consideration.

ALL: Aye.

KAISER: All opposed?

FLEMMING: Nay.

KAISER: Vunderbar. The bill has passed first reading.
{Interior: Parliamentary Lobby. Pierre is being scrumed by a number of reporters with microphones, note pads, etc, including Charlotte, with the dove perched on her shoulder. Pierre is wearing a barbershop quartet outfit.}

REPORTER 1: Prime Minister Trudeau: What do you expect the ministry will define as non-Gorffwysfan content.

PIERRE: Well, of course we will be recognizing that the cultural heritage of Gorffwysfa is primarily Canadian, and most definitely tolerant and open in that respect. I am certain that this act should serve to keep many of our brightest minds busy in a search for that which is inherently of this place. We must remember that this land is most certainly a nation of immigrants. {Cut to Will Ferguson in a straight-jacket being dragged across the screen by two Mounties.}

FERGUSON: I told you! Didn't I tell you we want to make them invisible! Well it won't work! It won't work I tell you! {Begins laughing manically. Cut back to Pierre.}

PIERRE: As I was saying, I am sure that Minister Tecumseh will put together the ideal means for determining the extent of Gorffwysfan culture.

CHARLOTTE: How? {Cut to Charlotte, Pierre and all other reporters are staring at her.} No. Do you have any idea what methods he'll be using? {Cut back to Pierre who is eyeing Charlotte now.}

PIERRE: And who is this beautiful addition to my constituency? {Back to Charlotte who is beginning to blush.}

CHARLOTTE: Charlotte, Realm and Message. {Tries to reassert herself} I'm interested to know just how you'll gain the power to determine what can and can't be listened to. {Cut to Charlotte's feet. There's an anthropomorphic bill on the floor.}

BILL: Maybe I can help, missy. {Begins singing} I'm just a b- mmf!{Trudeau reaches down and grabs the bill, clasping his hand around it's mouth. Back to Trudeau, holding the struggling bill.}

TRUDEAU: This, for example, is American content and would be subject to restrictions.

CHARLOTTE: And if you were to break into a rag-time dance number would that be considered American culture?

TRUDEAU: Nothing I do is American. {Diefenbaker walks by.}

DIEF: Yeah, and nothing I do is political.

TRUDEAU: Any content produced in Gorffwysfa will be included as well as most cultural content that Gorffwysfans have an intimate cultural connection with, especially Canadian culture. {Crowd disburses. Leaving Charlotte scribbling furiously and Trudeau approaches her.} So, my dear, perhaps you'd like to come back to my place for dinner, an aperitif, a roll in the hay?

CHARLOTTE: {Somewhat shocked} What?

PIERRE: Who?

CHARLOTTE: Why?

PIERRE: Where?

CHARLOTTE: When?

PIERRE: Oh I was thinking about eight o'clock.

CHARLOTTE: {Aside.} Damn! Ran out of W's.

PIERRE: I'll come pick you up at your place.

CHARLOTTE: I'm sure that you'll find the ambience of my cardboard box more than pleasing.

PIERRE: Oh, right. You don't actually have a place yet. {Produces card.} Give Max a call. Anything that's worth owning Max has a piece of. {Ogles Charlotte.} Mostly everything. {Max is Max Aitken, also known as Lord Beaverbrook.}

{Exterior: Lighthearted Music. Also an up and downer. Interior Hallway.}

CHARLOTTE: So is there anything wrong with this apartment?

MAX: Certainly not! It's at the right address. It's not haunted. The plumbing works. All four walls are there... Most of the time. {Opens door.} Though you'll have to keep the lights off. The power won't be turned on until 7:59 this evening.

CHARLOTTE: Why is-

MAX: Any-hoo, I'll need first month, last month, and any other valuables you have on your person.

CHARLOTTE: {Reaches into wallet} Here's one grand and a a bird. {Plucks bird from shoulder and hands it to Max}

MAX: Pleasure doing business with you. I've got to go now. I have a meeting with some other royalty.

CHARLOTTE: Oh?

MAX: Can't recall the name, but apparently he's foreign and has some sort of skin condition.

CHARLOTTE: {Aside.} Why does that sound familiar?

{Cut to Kaiser on speaker's chair, he's scratching his arm.}

KAISER: Damn psoriasis. {Cut back to Max}

MAX: Well, goodbye. {Closes door. Charlotte checks her watch.} 

CHARLOTTE: One minute to eight. I guess while I'm waiting for Pierre I could always have a look around the apartment. {Turns on light. Revealing Horatio Sanz sitting on the couch eating cereal out of the box.}

SANZ: Hey.

CHARLOTTE: That's it! {Picks up phone. Screen becomes split ala phone conversation with Max.} Beaverbrook! Why didn't you tell me my apartment was infested with comedians?

MAX: I rather enjoy the comedy stylings of Horatio Sanz. Though, he's no continental. {Cut to apartment view. Horatio has begun giggling for no apparent reason and a Mustache is half glued to his face.}

CHARLOTTE: Dammit this isn't even funny! {Cut back to phone conversation.} Listen Beaverbrook I'm appealing to your sense of ethics here.

MAX: Here's a phone. Call someone who cares.

CHARLOTTE: But, I'm already holding a phone.

MAX: Oh are you?

CHARLOTTE: Yes.

MAX: Well that's good! It's great to see women using the telephone these days... Bye! {End of split screen. Doorbell rings. Charlotte looks panicked.}

CHARLOTTE: Okay, Horatio, someone very important is here, so I'm going to need you to hide on the balcony for a while. {Opens curtain revealing a sliding glass door and balcony. White Dove flies into window with a smack. Charlotte quickly closes curtain, turn around and leans back on it as though she was holding it closed for some reason.}

PIERRE: Charlotte, nothing's gone farcically wrong for reasons beyond your control has it? {Charlotte looks through peephole. Fish eye view shows Trudeau wearing a Devo outfit.}

CHARLOTTE: Not at all. {Calling to someone else in a sing song voice.} Richard! {Aging slight bald man with a mustache wearing a tweed sport coat walks up to Charlotte.} On second thought you won't help in any way. Sorry.

RICHARD: Well, thanks for the apology at any rate. I've got to go and pretend I'm an upper class deacon visiting from Zimbabwe now.

CHARLOTTE: Good luck with that and any other incomprehensibly stupid plots that you get roped into with no expression of backbone whatsoever. {Richard walks off} What an obliging moron. How am I going to get out of this?

ANNOUNCER: How indeed? Will our plucky heroine find a way to remove her annoying guests so as to have an un-embarassing evening with her licentious guest? Tune in next-

CHARLOTTE: Not so fast, you pompous signal of the authors approaching lethargy! I'm going to make this all work out and it's all going to make sense and come across as ingenious and not contrived at all! {Cut to Charlotte opening door. Revealing Pierre wearing a judo outfit.} Pierre! We have a couple of unexpected visitors... my parents! {Cut to the dove wearing a smoking jacket and Horatio in drag, with Barbara Bush style wig askew.}

PIERRE: Well, Mister and Missus... Charlotte. {Whispering to Charlotte} Did they tell you what your last name was?

CHARLOTTE: Uh... no... they believe in having me do everything for myself.

PIERRE: Very admirable. {Cut back to 'parents'}

DOVE: Coo! Coo! {Horatio starts laughing to self again.}

PIERRE: Yes I suppose that your daughter carries a certain grace under fire that many of the younger set find admirable. {Cut back to Dove who flies onto Horatio's shoulder and replaces the mustache. Horatio is giggling audibly now. Cut back to Pierre and Charlotte.} Okay then, well we'll be off. Don't wait up. {Cut back to Horatio and dove}

HORATIO: So you wanna get stoned and watch SCTV? {Exterior: Lightheart music. Trudeau's Red Mercedes is parked outside.}

PIERRE: Allow me. {Opens door for Charlotte, who steps in. Pierre enters car. They drive off. Pan back to reveal Desmond watching from outside Diefenbaker's. John A comes out and puts his hand on Desmond's shoulder. Cut to Exterior: Diefenbaker's Desmond and John A.}

DESMOND: John, you're a pretty accomplished drinker.

JOHN A: I was all state my senior year.

DESMOND: But you... never mind. Drinking contests, what's your record?

JOHN A: 548 and 26.

DESMOND: 27.

JOHN A: Aye. {Both walk inside}

{End Credits}