“Y’know, you try to do something nice for the kids,” said the Prime Minister as he stood outside Parliament Hill a little after midnight last night, smoking a Du Maurier and taking an occasional swig from a hip flask that emerged every now and again from deep inside his old parka, the one he changes the winter tires in.
“And all they do is bitch about how they have to book it in advance, and why can’t they take the whole damn thing up with a game of ice hockey that only allows for twelve skaters at a time, and why does it cost money to make an ice rink, and complain, complain, complain. Well, y’know what? I’ve had enough. I’ll flood the damn thing myself. Going down to -1 tonight and I’m just going to get ‘er done and shut up the lot of ’em. Goddamned Andrew Scheer, I’d like to check that guy into the boards head first I tell ya.”
It began to drizzle.
“Well fuck,” the Prime Minister said quietly under his breath, but didn’t stop with the garden hose – three of which were connected in-line, stretching back up to the Parliament Buildings. He stood there, a sodden, stubborn, perhaps quintessentially Canadian figure, in the dark, flooding a rink no one seems to want just to prove a goddamned point.
“I’m not stopping now,” the beleaguered leader said, “I’ve come this far. And y’know what I’m pissed. Everyone’s mad about $6 million bucks, which by the way includes an entire hockey tournament for the peewee kids I’ll have you know, and you know old Harper spent that much on dumb looking sweaters and herbal tea. I’d put him into the boards too, oh I would. Wouldn’t even say sorry.”
Trudeau drops the hose at this stage to work his way back up the line, disentangling kinks that are slowing the flow to a trickle.
“It’s like I said eh?” He continues when he returns, lighting a fresh cigarette which he waves in the dark, diagramming his outrage in sweeping red circles. “You try to do something nice and you just end up thinking ‘why do I even bother?’ These guys are going to moan if I make a rink, they’re going to moan if I don’t make a rink. They’re going to bitch that Harper was as boring as a piece of lined foolscap (which, did you know, is his battle rap name? Yep, DJ Foolscap, look it up) and then I come along with sunny ways and everyone’s like ‘Naw man, too bright, turn that shit down, who’s paying the electricity anyway?’ So screw it. I’ll flood the damn rink myself.”
CCTV footage from Parliament Hill shows the Prime Minister stayed on the scene until a little after three, when he stumbled off towards Sussex Drive, his parka flapping wetly against his sides as he tried to remember which pocket he’d last put his hip flask in. In the grainy video he can be seen to find it, and then turn and give a prolonged middle finger to the sleeping city of Ottawa, before falling over. His security detail arrived then, and gently lifted the Canadian leader into a black Town Car before motoring quietly off, leaving one of their members behind to coil the hose.
Noting that the water is finally beginning to freeze, the nameless man turned the tap back on, and carried the job through until morning, in the proud tradition of thousands of unthanked Canadian parents everywhere. Before heading off to Timmies for a litre of coffee.