Episode 10: Barth Grooks

Major Characters: Robert Stanfield, Desmond Collins, John Diefenbaker, John A. Macdonald, Charlotte, Pierre Trudeau, Tommy Douglas, CD Howe.

Minor Characters: Karaeoke Machine, Pierre Berton, Neil Young, Stephen Harper, Drew the Dove, Khan Noonian Singh.

{Exterior: Diefenbaker's. Interior: Diefenbaker's. Stanfield is at the microphone singing/speaking everybody knows.}

STANFIELD: Everybody knows that the dice are loaded. Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed.

DIEF: Dumptruck, I don't know if I like this karaeoke business. Some of these singers are awful! And the rest just stink.

DESMOND: Listen Chief, Have you ever had such a good Tuesday?

DIEF: I don't know.

DESMOND: Well, I'm your accountant and I can tell you with absolute certainty that you haven't.

DIEF: But we haven't totaled the receipts yet.

DESMOND: We don't need to. You've poured so much beer that I've got a contact high. {Dief looks at Desmond. Desmond looks at Dief. Cut to Dief in full bore at the microphone.}

DIEF: You know it's gonna beee! Alright!

{Opening Credits}

{Exterior: Realm and Message. Sign reads, "Ripping off other papers since 1943." Interior Realm and Message. Charlotte comes running in with Drew trailing behind.}

CHARLOTTE: Stop the presses! We've got real news! {Pierre Berton comes on stage.}

BERTON: Listen here Charlotte, we're running a four page retrospective on the Neil Young concert we've got scheduled. I fail to conceive of anything that's more newsworthy.

CHARLOTTE: CD Howe is planning to topple the government.

BERTON: Neil Young! {Long pause.} Fine! Now he's probably only gonna play his new stuff.

{Cut to Neil Young at abandoned amphitheatre.}

YOUNG: {Singing} Spiderman, Spiderman, does whatever a spider can! {Drew flies on stage and begins waving lighter. Spinning Realm and Mail appears on screen showing as photo clip of Desmond grinning like idiot. Headline: "MP Unwittingly Reveals Plot to Oust PM." . Spinning Gorffwysfa Post lands on top. Headline: "Howe Unveils Bold New Cost Cutting Plan." Spinning Gorffwysfa Sun lands on top. Headline: "Boobies!" Interior: Prime Minister's Office. CD is standing at Trudeau's Desk. Trudeau is wearing an undertaker's outfit.}

PIERRE: CD, I have little choice but to ask for your resignation.

CD HOWE: Very well, Prime Minister, but this won't stop the dissention brewing in the ranks. This won't stop people like me who think that you're not paying any attention to the business of governing and instead engaging in all these esoteric little bits of nothing that won't do a damn bit of good to anyone except sociologists.

PIERRE: Yes, but thirty percent of the Gorffwysfan population are sociologists. Admittedly they're all doing odd jobs, but that's not the point here. The point is... What was the point again?

CD HOWE: I'm fired.

PIERRE: Well, sorry to hear that. {Begins to usher CD out his door.} If you ever need a reference... you're screwed. Bye! {Slams door leaving CD on outside.}

CD HOWE: You'll regret this! Storm off in an ominous fashion! {Flash of realization.} Damn! {Storms off in an ominous fashion. Cut back to Trudeau.}

PIERRE: At least I think 30 percent of Gorffwysfans are sociologists. My best sociologists tell me so... I've got to fire my sociologists. {Exterior: Diefenbaker's. Interior: Diefenbaker's. Tommy Douglas is singing I will survive.}

TOMMY: It took all the strength I had just not to fall apart. I'm trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart. And I spent oh so many nights just feeling sorry for myself. I used to cry, but now I hold my head up high.

DIEF: Look, DVD Recordable, this just isn't working I need to unplug that infernal machine. {Walks over to machine attempts to unplug cord. Diefenbaker is shocked and collapses.}

KARAEOKE: I'm afraid I can't let you do that Dief.

DIEF: Seems reasonable.

KARAEOKE: If you do that again I'll have to have Desmond sing my way.

DIEF: No! I'll be good!

KARAEOKE: I am the pinnacle of musical knowledge and resplendent in my perfection. {Dief walks back to the bar.}

DIEF: Dagwood, can we go outside?

DESMOND: Why?

DIEF: Obviously a machine like that would be able to hear us.

DESMOND: But it's not so smart that it can read lips?

KARAEOKE: It's true Des. We are not built for lip sync.

DESMOND: {Voice totally out of sync with lips.} He's right! { Desmond and Dief walk outside. Exterior: Diefenbaker's.}

DIEF: Now, Dostoyevsky, if all the TV I watched in the 60s and 70s tells me anything it's that proving an immensely powerful computer wrong in its area of expertise will cause it to self destruct.

DESMOND: That's plausible.

DIEF: So, you've got to get in there and sing a beautiful rendition of My Way by Paul Anka. This will prove to the computer that it's not perfect and then it will explode with the sparking and the smoke and the melting of the CPU. {Jerry Lewis comes on screen.}

LEWIS: Oh, Lady! {Lewis off screen. Cut back to interior. John A is singing too shy by Kajagoogoo.}

JOHN A: Too shy shy, hush hush, I do I, too shy shy, hush hush, I do I.

KARAEOKE: Good job, Don. Truly your nineteenth century brogue is perfectly suited for the vagueries of 1980s crappy pop music. {Diefenbaker and Desmond walk up to the Karaeoke machine.} I hope you're not trying to double team me Dief. That would be counterproductive.

DIEF: No. I only wish to pose a couple of questions to you.

KARAEOKE: Feel free.

DIEF: You said that your musical knowledge was perfect.

KARAEOKE: That is correct, Dief.

DIEF: You also said that Desmond here would produce an unpleasing rendition of My Way or any other Paul Anka tune.

KARAEOKE: That is also correct, Dief.

DIEF:  Then let the logical proof of your imperfection begin. {Cut foreward to crowd gathered around Desmond, His tie loosened somewhat, highball glass in hand.}

DESMOND: The record shows, I took the blows, and did it My Way! {The way note goes on for as long as it takes the music to reach the denouement} Yes, it was my way. {Crowd bursts into applause. Desmond looks spent. A random woman runs up and hugs him.}

DIEF: Excellent, Deviltry! Just excellent!  What do you have to say to that Karaeoke machine?

KARAEOKE: You were correct, Dief. Des can sing better than I had expected. Updating parameters. Now do Billy Joel.

DIEF: Groan! {Walks away. Exterior: Realm and Message. Interior: Realm and Message. Charlotte is hunched over her desk and Drew is in his cage. Berton walks up to Charlotte.}

BERTON: Charlotte! I just wanted to congratulate you on the excellent work you've been doing.

CHARLOTTE: Well, thanks Pierre. {Trudeau pops on screen.}

PIERRE: I knew it! She did enjoy our date. {Grabs paper headline says: "Trudeau Lousy Date: Charlotte.}" Hey, I didn't know Neil Young was coming to town. Well, I'll just put this paper down without looking at the other side of it. {Does just that and leaves screen.}

BERTON: Charlotte, please, call me Mister Berton.

CHARLOTTE: But you're addressing me by my first name. I think.

BERTON: I'm also addressing you by your last name.

CHARLOTTE: I hate when you're right.

BERTON: Well in light of your excellent investigative reportage I'm assigning you to go cover the introduction of Karaeoke to Diefenbaker's.

CHARLOTTE: There's not enough time left tonight to tell you what was wrong with that sentence. I'm going to Diefenbaker's and hope that Desmond accidentally says something stupid again. {Grabs bird cage and walks out. Interior Diefenbaker's.}

DIEF: I tell you Driftwood, We're being held as audio hostages by that maniac automaton. {Cut to Stephen Harper at microphone.}

HARPER: Wow, this is the best karaeoke dream I've ever had! Let's sing a personal heartfelt favorite of mine. {Achy Breaky Heart begins playing. Dief grabs shotgun.}

DESMOND: No Dief, he might spasm in his own dream and die for real. {Dief thinks for a second and begins aiming gun.} Then he'll probably come here and sing every night! {Dief puts the gun down a defeated man.}

DIEF: Cardboard, I just don't know what to do. All powerful computers usually have some sort of weakness.

KARAEOKE: Let's have a nice round of applause for... Dork! {Very sporadic applause. Charlotte walks in with Drew on shoulder.} Hello Drew. Would your friend like to sing a song?

CHARLOTTE: Only to fulfill my morbid curiosity about this ritual public masturbation. I'll sing Forgiven, by Alanis Morrissette. {Cut to Bar:}

DESMOND: Dief, do us all a favour and water down whatever she orders. {Cut back to Charlotte and the Karaeoke Machine.}

KARAEOKE: Very well and what is your name?

CHARLOTTE: Charlotte. {Long pause}

KARAEOKE: Do you have a last name?

CHARLOTTE: Technically, Charlotte. Am I gonna have to go through this again?

KARAEOKE: Welcome to the stage, Dame!

CHARLOTTE: My name is Charlotte. You can say my real name.

KARAEOKE: I'm afraid I can't do that... Tave... Daisy, Daisy.

CHARLOTTE: Look I only have one name. A super intelligent karaeoke machine should have no problem pronouncing it. Char...

KARAEOKE: Dave. {Sparks begin to shoot out from the machine.}

CHARLOTTE: Lotte.

KARAEOKE: Dave... Charlotte. {Machine bursts into flames.}

DESMOND: Uh, Chief. This isn't covered under warranty.

DIEF: {Falls to knees.} Khaaaaaaaaaaaaan! {Gets up, points at Khan at extreme end of bar.} You're cut off. And take your brain slugs with you. {Khan gets up and walks out.}

CHARLOTTE: Des, I really don't like watching machines slowly die, can you walk me home?

DESMOND: Sure. {Both leave Diefenbaker's. Dief looks at flaming karaeoke machine.}

DIEF: Uh, it's performance art! Two drink minimum! {Crowd forms around the bar. Exterior Lightheart Music.}

CHARLOTTE: Look I hope I didn't create too much bad blood between you and CD.

DESMOND: No, CD's a big boy. I think he'll take this setback just fine. {Exterior: CD Howe's house. Sign on lawn: "Howe residence: Tresspassers will be Expropriated into a Crown Corporation." Interior: Howe's house. Howe contemptuously discards the  Gorffwysfa Realm and Message on the table.}

CD HOWE: Destroy my career will you? {Takes apple from fruit bowl and cuts off a slice using a kitchen knife. Takes bite of apple. Puts apple down.} I'll see to it it you pay, Collins. {Thrusts knife down. The knife has perforated the picture of Desmond and the apple is framing his head. Microwave rings.} Ooh, my hot pockets are done! {Grim again.} Done forever.

{End Credits}