kevosaicreations

[kevosaicreations]

Title: “Pierre’s Preposterous Platform Pow-wow”

Setting: A Conservative Party campaign strategy meeting. Pierre Poilievre sits at the head of the table, surrounded by his campaign manager, marketing director, policy advisor, and a couple of eager interns taking notes. Coffee cups and stress levels are high.

⸻

Scene 1: The Security Clearance Debacle

Campaign Manager: Alright, Pierre, we need to address the elephant in the room—your security clearance. The media won’t let it go. Just get the clearance, and we can move on.

Pierre Poilievre: (scoffs) Absolutely not. That’s a trap. A classic Carney trick. If I get security clearance, next thing you know, they’ll expect me to read classified documents. Then they’ll expect me to understand them. That’s how they get you!

Policy Advisor: Pierre, that’s literally the job of a Prime Minister.

Pierre Poilievre: (waves dismissively) I don’t need some secret handshake document to tell me what’s going on in this country! The people tell me everything I need to know—on Facebook.

Marketing Director: (rubbing temples) Pierre, if you don’t get the clearance, people will start thinking you have something to hide.

Pierre Poilievre: (gasps) ME? Hide something? Absurd. In fact, I’ll prove it—I will publicly NOT get my security clearance. I will campaign on TRANSPARENCY by refusing to see ANY secrets. That way, no one can accuse me of a cover-up!

Intern #1: (hesitant) I… don’t think that’s how that works.

Pierre Poilievre: (ignoring them) Plus, if I get security clearance, that means I’ll know things. And if I know things, then I’ll have to LIE to the people about them. That’s exactly what Carney wants! You see, I’m playing 5D chess.

Campaign Manager: You’re playing Hungry Hungry Hippos.

Pierre Poilievre: (glaring) You’re fired.

Campaign Manager: You can’t fire me, I work for the party.

Pierre Poilievre: Fine, but you’re on thin ice, buddy.

⸻

Scene 2: The Platform Brainstorming

Pierre Poilievre: Alright, folks, let’s get serious. We need campaign promises that matter to Canadians. Big, bold ideas. Lay ’em on me.

Marketing Director: How about we promise free Tim Hortons coffee for every Canadian? Nothing screams “true patriot” like a double-double.

Pierre Poilievre: (furious) What?! No! That’s socialism! You think people should get free coffee just for existing? No way. They need to earn it—by working 12-hour shifts in a warehouse! Next!

Policy Advisor: Okay, how about we pledge to ban all electric scooters? They’re a menace. Nobody looks tough riding one.

Pierre Poilievre: (thoughtful) Hmm… that’s actually not bad. But instead of banning them, let’s just make them pedal-powered. That way, we can say we’re supporting traditional values.

Intern #2: That’s just a bicycle.

Pierre Poilievre: Exactly! Moving on.

Campaign Manager: Alright, hear me out: a National “Stop Complaining” Day. One day a year where Canadians legally aren’t allowed to whine.

Pierre Poilievre: (gasps) That’s brilliant. That’s the exact kind of authoritarian nonsense Carney would do. We’ll say he wanted it, then I’ll campaign against it! Genius! Next!

Marketing Director: How about mandatory plaid shirts for all government employees?

Pierre Poilievre: (glares) That’s stupid. Plaid should be optional but strongly encouraged. We’re not communists.

Intern #1: What about a tax break for Canadians who know how to drive stick shift?

Pierre Poilievre: (excited) YES! Finally, an idea with merit! Canadians who can drive manual are clearly more competent citizens. Let’s call it the “Hardworking Hands Act.” We’ll give them a tax credit… wait, no! Even better—no taxes for stick-shift drivers! That’ll really weed out the weak!

Campaign Manager: Pierre, we’re trying to appeal to voters, not start a weird car-based class war.

Pierre Poilievre: (ignoring them) And let’s add another promise: If you own a Prius, you pay DOUBLE taxes!

Marketing Director: (muttering) Oh my God, we’re going to lose so badly.

⸻

Scene 3: The Meeting Falls Apart

Campaign Manager: (exhausted) Okay, Pierre, let’s recap: You refuse to get your security clearance, you want to ban whining, tax Prius owners, and give free coffee only to people who work 12-hour shifts.

Pierre Poilievre: (nodding) And plaid shirts are optional but strongly encouraged.

Intern #2: This is the most ridiculous campaign in history.

Pierre Poilievre: (smug) Or the greatest.

Campaign Manager: No, it’s definitely ridiculous.

Pierre Poilievre: You say “ridiculous,” I say “winning strategy.” And I don’t need security clearance to see that.

(The team collectively groans as Pierre leans back, smug and confident, while absolute chaos looms in the background.)

[FADE OUT]

[kevosaicreations]

Title: “Danielle Smith vs. the Trump Machine”

Characters:

• Danielle Smith (Premier of Alberta) – Passionate, slightly frantic, desperate to get on Trump’s good side.

• Trump Administration Official (TAO) – A loud, dismissive, barely competent bureaucrat who operates on vibes and blind loyalty to Trump.

Setting:

Danielle Smith’s office in Alberta. A massive oil painting of an oil derrick looms behind her. A large TV screen is set up with a grainy video feed from Washington, D.C. The TAO is eating something loudly into the microphone.

⸻

SCENE 1: THE CALL

TAO: (mouth full) Yeah, this is Washington. Who’s this?

DANIELLE SMITH: Premier Danielle Smith of Alberta. We need to talk.

TAO: (chews) Alberta… That’s, uh… (pause) The oil place, right? The one always whining about pipelines?

DANIELLE SMITH: (irritated) Yes. And we need to talk about Pierre Poilievre. He is the future of Canada, and he aligns with President Trump’s new direction!

TAO: (burps) Oh, yeah, that guy. Pee-air Poo-lee-ever?

DANIELLE SMITH: (strained) Poilievre.

TAO: Yeah, yeah. He’s the angry little one, right? Real freedom guy? Loves gold? Talks like he’s about to sell me a used car?

DANIELLE SMITH: Yes! He is exactly the kind of leader America wants in Canada. But the problem is, your rhetoric—the 51st state thing, the trade wars—it’s making things harder for him. We need you to pause those things until he gets elected.

TAO: (laughs) Pause?! Lady, we don’t even pause for lunch.

DANIELLE SMITH: Listen, Pierre is your best bet. He’ll work with Trump, he’ll fight the woke agenda, he’ll—

TAO: (interrupting) Whoa, whoa, hold on. Who’s the other guy? The one running against him?

DANIELLE SMITH: (hesitant) …Mark Carney.

TAO: (long pause) …Who?

DANIELLE SMITH: (exasperated) Mark Carney! Former Governor of the Bank of Canada, worked at the Bank of England, Goldman Sachs—

TAO: (scoffs) Oh, so he’s a nerd.

DANIELLE SMITH: Exactly! A globalist, a bureaucrat! You don’t want him!

TAO: (muttering) Hold on, lemme Google this guy… (typing sounds) …Huh. Says here he’s a banker.

DANIELLE SMITH: (nervous) …Yes?

TAO: A rich banker.

DANIELLE SMITH: (more nervous) …Yes.

TAO: (thinking out loud) Rich guy… Goldman Sachs… (suddenly excited) Oh damn, Trump might like this dude!

DANIELLE SMITH: (panicked) NO!

TAO: (laughs) This Carney guy sounds like he owns three golf resorts and has a standing dinner at Mar-a-Lago. Trump loves rich guys!

DANIELLE SMITH: (frustrated) But he’s part of the establishment! He’s a globalist!

TAO: So was Mnuchin, and Trump made him Treasury Secretary. You think we care?

DANIELLE SMITH: (desperate) But Pierre is your guy! He’s fighting for real conservatism!

TAO: (cackles) Lady, Trump is conservatism. You think we want another guy screaming about freedom? That’s his job. Trump doesn’t need some Canadian knockoff stealing his bit. That’s like trying to sell a bootleg MAGA hat to Trump himself!

DANIELLE SMITH: (fuming) So you’re telling me you prefer Carney?!

TAO: I’m saying if it’s between a boring rich banker and a guy who acts like a libertarian podcaster who hasn’t slept in six days… (shrugs) We’ll take the banker.

DANIELLE SMITH: (stunned silence)

TAO: Look, if Pierre was really all that tough, he wouldn’t be scared of a little trade war. I mean, if he can’t handle some tariffs and a few mean tweets, what’s he gonna do when Trump tries to buy your precious province of Alberta?

DANIELLE SMITH: (genuinely horrified) You can’t be serious.

TAO: (ignoring her) Anyway, I gotta go. We got a situation—Trump just asked if NATO can be traded for a casino in Monaco. So, uh… good luck with your Pierre guy or whatever.

(TAO hangs up. Smith stares blankly at the screen, completely shell-shocked.)

DANIELLE SMITH: (to herself) …Maybe I should just call DeSantis.

FADE TO BLACK.

[kevosaicreations]

Title: “Pierre’s Star-Studded Strikeout”

⸻

Scene: Pierre Poilievre’s Campaign HQ

(Pierre is pacing in his office, holding a phone, looking stressed. His campaign team sits around the table, equally nervous.)

Campaign Aide #1: We need a viral moment, boss. Carney just dropped that skit with Mike Myers. Canadians love it. It’s funny, it’s charming—he’s in a hockey jersey, for God’s sake!

Campaign Aide #2: We need a celebrity. Someone big. Someone Canadian.

Pierre Poilievre: Easy. I’ll call Celine Dion.

Campaign Aide #1: Celine Dion?!

Pierre Poilievre: She’s an icon! And she loves Canada. She’ll do it.

(Pierre dials. The team leans in. The phone rings. Celine picks up.)

Celine Dion: ‘Allô?

Pierre Poilievre: Celine! It’s Pierre Poilievre. I have a wonderful opportunity for you. I want you in a skit with me. It’s gonna be huge—funny, patriotic, and very Canadian.

Celine Dion: [laughs] Oh Pierre, mon dieu. No, no, no.

Pierre Poilievre: Why not?

Celine Dion: Pierre… my heart will not go on for this. You are… how do I say this politely? Not my vibe. Also, I just checked with my vocal cords—they say “non.”

Pierre Poilievre: Come on, Celine. I’m very popular.

Celine Dion: So is poutine, but I don’t put it in my art. Bye-bye!

(Celine hangs up. Pierre stares at the phone, stunned.)

Campaign Aide #2: Okay, so, not Celine. Who else?

Pierre Poilievre: Wayne Gretzky. The Great One. Hockey royalty. He’s perfect.

Campaign Aide #1: Uh… boss, Wayne’s kind of, uh… controversial right now.

Pierre Poilievre: What? Because he’s friends with Trump? That’s nothing. Watch this.

(Pierre dials. Wayne Gretzky picks up.)

Wayne Gretzky: Pierre! Wow, great to hear from you.

Pierre Poilievre: Wayne! Buddy! I want you in a campaign skit. Just two Canadian legends, having some laughs.

Wayne Gretzky: Listen, I’d love to, but, uh… I can’t.

Pierre Poilievre: Why not?

Wayne Gretzky: Well, I’d have to check with Donald.

Pierre Poilievre: [pauses] Check with Donald… Trump?

Wayne Gretzky: Yeah, you know how it is. He hates Canada, but he loves me. If I do this, he might call me a loser on Truth Social, and I cannot have that, buddy.

Pierre Poilievre: Wayne, this is for Canada.

Wayne Gretzky: Pierre, I took money from a sports gambling site. I have no shame. Bye!

(Gretzky hangs up. Pierre throws his phone on the table, frustrated.)

Pierre Poilievre: Unbelievable. Fine. We need another name. Someone everyone loves.

Campaign Aide #2: What about Ryan Reynolds?

Pierre Poilievre: Yes! Ryan Reynolds! The most Canadian guy on Earth. I’ll call him now.

(Pierre dials. Ryan Reynolds picks up.)

Ryan Reynolds: Pierre! What a deeply unexpected phone call.

Pierre Poilievre: Ryan! Big fan. Listen, I’ve got a great idea. A hilarious skit. You and me, two charming, relatable guys—

Ryan Reynolds: Pierre, I don’t know how to say this kindly, but… I’m very allergic to whatever your whole thing is. Like, medically. A doctor told me I could die from it.

Pierre Poilievre: Come on, Ryan—

Ryan Reynolds: Also, I already made my one political exception for the year. It was a Mint Mobile commercial.

(Ryan hangs up. Pierre looks around the room, exasperated.)

Pierre Poilievre: Okay. Who’s left?

Campaign Aide #1: [hesitates] Justin Bieber?

Pierre Poilievre: Bieber! Perfect! Let’s go.

(Pierre dials. Justin Bieber picks up.)

Justin Bieber: Yo.

Pierre Poilievre: Biebs! It’s Pierre Poilievre.

Justin Bieber: Who?

Pierre Poilievre: …The Leader of the Opposition? Future Prime Minister?

Justin Bieber: Ohhh. No, man. I, uh, gotta go. My wife needs me to, um, water the… dog.

Pierre Poilievre: That doesn’t—

(Bieber hangs up.)

Campaign Aide #2: This is bad, boss.

Pierre Poilievre: One more. Someone who can’t say no. Someone wholesome.

Campaign Aide #1: Shania Twain?

Pierre Poilievre: She has to say yes. She’s the nicest person alive.

(Pierre dials. Shania Twain picks up.)

Shania Twain: Hey, Pierre!

Pierre Poilievre: Shania! You are Canada’s sweetheart. Would you do me the honor of appearing in a fun little skit—

Shania Twain: Aw, Pierre. That don’t impress me much.

(Shania hangs up. Pierre drops his head on the desk. The room is silent.)

Campaign Aide #2: …So, uh. Should we call Don Cherry?

(Pierre glares. Fade to black.)

[kevosaicreations]

Title: “Maple Syrup vs. Musk”

Characters:

• Kevin – A passionate Canadian liberal, deeply patriotic and anti-Trump/Musk.

• Chad – A Cybertruck driver, laid-back but opinionated, thinks Elon Musk is a genius.

⸻

(A grocery store parking lot in Canada. A massive, stainless steel Cybertruck gleams under the sun. Kevin, holding a reusable shopping bag full of organic produce, approaches the truck, eyeing it with deep suspicion.)

KEVIN: (arms crossed) Hey, buddy. Quick question. Why are you driving this… abomination in Canada?

CHAD: (grinning) Oh, you mean this technological marvel? It’s a Cybertruck, my guy. Indestructible. Runs on pure genius.

KEVIN: It’s an eyesore. It looks like a refrigerator on wheels.

CHAD: That’s just because you’re used to boring cars. This baby is the future.

KEVIN: (scoffs) A future where Elon Musk owns the roads? No thanks. And in case you haven’t heard, your boy Trump is threatening to annex Canada. And here you are, rolling around in his buddy’s ugly metal box like you’re auditioning for a Mad Max reboot.

CHAD: (laughs) Whoa, whoa, slow down, Captain Maple Leaf. Trump talks a big game, but he’s not annexing anything. The dude couldn’t even build a wall—how’s he gonna take a whole country?

KEVIN: That’s exactly what they want you to think! First, Musk sells us these dystopian robo-trucks, then Trump waltzes in and suddenly we’re the 51st state. Next thing you know, Tim Hortons is serving McRibs, and we’re all forced to say “y’all.”

CHAD: (shrugs) Could be worse. Free refills on soda. Bigger highways. Lower taxes.

KEVIN: Lower taxes?! At what cost, Chad? Health care? Universal poutine access?

CHAD: (raising an eyebrow) Universal what?

KEVIN: Poutine, Chad. The lifeblood of this nation! You think America’s gonna keep our fries covered in cheese curds and gravy? No! They’ll drown it in processed nacho cheese and call it “Freedom Fries Plus.”

CHAD: (laughs) Okay, now I kinda want to try that.

KEVIN: (frustrated) This isn’t a joke! You think Musk and Trump don’t talk? You think he didn’t personally design this truck to roll smoothly over the border when the tanks come in?

CHAD: (mocking) Oh no, not the smooth border roll! The horror!

KEVIN: (ignoring him) And while we’re at it—why does this thing look like it was rendered on a Nintendo 64?

CHAD: (defensive) It’s futuristic! It’s bold! It’s American innovation!

KEVIN: It’s an insult to every beaver, moose, and polite citizen in this country.

CHAD: (grinning) Oh, so sorry to offend your national animal coalition.

KEVIN: You should be sorry! Look, Chad, I don’t care what you drive. I care that you’re giving money to a guy who wants us all to live in some libertarian Mars colony where the only law is “subscribe to Twitter Blue.”

CHAD: (laughing) Dude, you’re so dramatic. It’s just a truck.

KEVIN: No, Chad. It’s a statement. And the statement is: “I would let a billionaire turn me into a battery-powered minion.”

CHAD: (mock thinking) Huh. Well, if he does annex Canada, maybe Cybertruck owners will get VIP treatment. You should think about it.

KEVIN: (groaning) You know what, Chad? Enjoy your freedom fridge on wheels. I’m gonna go enjoy my free healthcare before America tries to sell it back to me with a monthly subscription.

(Kevin storms off. Chad chuckles, pats his Cybertruck affectionately, and drives off—silently, because it’s electric.)

— END —

[kevosaicreations]

Title: The Great Left Debate

Characters:

• Libby – A passionate Liberal supporter, smugly confident about Mark Carney’s leadership.

• Daphne – A frustrated NDP supporter, baffled by her party’s lack of support.

⸻

(A cozy café in Toronto. Libby is sipping an oat milk latte, while Daphne aggressively stirs her herbal tea, visibly annoyed.)

LIBBY: Ahh, nothing like a strong leader and a strong latte. You know, it just feels right to be a Liberal these days. Mark Carney is crushing it. The polls don’t lie, Daphne.

DAPHNE: (grumbling) No, but the system does. The corporate media just refuses to give Jagmeet Singh a fair shot.

LIBBY: Oh please. If anything, they go easy on him! Every time he loses an election, they just hand him another TikTok camera and tell him to dance it off.

DAPHNE: (pointing) You see, that’s the problem! People care more about his videos than his policies—

LIBBY: His policies? Daphne, come on. He’s been going on about workers’ rights for years, and what do we have to show for it? Higher union dues and a bunch of strikes no one can afford!

DAPHNE: At least he’s fighting for workers! What do the Liberals do? Say “we support workers” while making deals with Bay Street?

LIBBY: (grinning) Smart deals with Bay Street. That’s why Carney is polling at 42% and your guy is at, what, 10%? Lower than my Starbucks rewards points.

DAPHNE: (throwing up hands) HOW?! How is that possible? He literally forced your party to do good things! Dental care? Pharmacare? That was us!

LIBBY: (shrugging) Yeah, and then we took credit for it. Because Canadians trust us to actually get things done.

DAPHNE: (mocking) “Get things done”? Like breaking promises? Where’s electoral reform, Libby? Where’s the wealth tax? Where’s—

LIBBY: (interrupting) Where’s your support, Daphne? Ten. Percent. The Green Party practically has the same numbers, and they’re basically a book club at this point.

DAPHNE: (groaning) This is why the left never wins! The Liberals steal NDP ideas, water them down, and then act like heroes! Meanwhile, Jagmeet’s out here fighting billionaires, and no one cares!

LIBBY: (smugly) Maybe Canadians just don’t want a leader who yells about billionaires while secretly liking Gucci.

DAPHNE: It was one Gucci belt, Libby! Let it go!

LIBBY: (grinning) Canadians did. That’s why they’re voting for Carney.

DAPHNE: (slumping back) Ugh. This country is hopeless.

LIBBY: (raising her latte) Cheers to centrism, Daphne. Cheers to centrism.

(Daphne groans while Libby takes a victorious sip. The debate continues as the scene fades out.)

— END —

[kevosaicreations]

INT. PARLIAMENT HILL – MEDIA SCRUM

Newly appointed Prime Minister MARK CARNEY stands at the podium, dressed sharply, exuding calm confidence. A sea of REPORTERS shuffles in, notebooks and microphones at the ready. The first question seems reasonable… but things go off the rails fast.

⸻

REPORTER #1 (serious tone)

“Prime Minister Carney, given your extensive background in banking, how do you plan to reassure Canadians that your policies won’t favor corporate interests over everyday citizens?”

MARK CARNEY (nodding, measured tone)

“A fair question. My priority has always been financial stability that benefits everyone, not just the wealthy. Economic growth should work for all Canadians, and that will guide my decisions.”

⸻

REPORTER #2 (accusatory tone)

“Mr. Carney, your net worth is estimated to be in the tens of millions. How can average Canadians trust a guy who probably owns more mansions than pairs of sweatpants?”

MARK CARNEY (slightly amused)

“Well, first of all, I own exactly one house, not a string of secret lairs. Second, I do, in fact, own sweatpants. But I will admit—I’m more of a ‘well-fitted joggers’ guy.”

⸻

REPORTER #3 (aggressive, Fox News energy)

“Mr. Carney, you worked for Goldman Sachs, the Bank of Canada, and the Bank of England. At what point did you decide to stop being a globalist elite and start pretending to care about the common man?”

MARK CARNEY (raising an eyebrow, tone sharpening)

“Ah, the classic ‘if you understand the economy, you must be evil’ argument. Well, I chose to serve in public office because I believe in strong fiscal management that benefits Canadians, not conspiracy theories about secret handshakes and shadow governments. Next question.”

⸻

REPORTER #4 (louder, obnoxious tone)

“Mr. Prime Minister, will you commit, right now, to revealing the full contents of your refrigerator so Canadians can judge whether you’re truly in touch with them?”

MARK CARNEY (now visibly entertained)

“Oh, absolutely. I would hate for this crucial national security issue to go unaddressed. Let’s see… Greek yogurt, a regrettable amount of sparkling water, some leftover butter chicken, and—wait for it—a half-eaten poutine. Clearly, I’m unfit to lead.”

⸻

REPORTER #5 (mock outrage, tabloid energy)

“Prime Minister, you once worked in England. Do you pledge allegiance to King Charles… or are you secretly loyal to THE BANK OF ENGLAND?!”

MARK CARNEY (leaning in, deadpan)

“I love that this is what we’re discussing today. Look, I worked in the UK. I also worked in Canada. And I have incredible air miles. None of that changes the fact that I am fully committed to serving Canadians.” (pauses, then adds dryly) “And yes, my allegiance is officially to the country, not to the Governor of the Bank of England or, say, my old barista in London.”

⸻

REPORTER #6 (aggressively squinting)

“Prime Minister, would you describe yourself as ‘Big Bank Mark’? Do you think average Canadians can ever relate to a man who likely owns a briefcase?”

MARK CARNEY (exasperated, but smiling)

“You got me. I do, in fact, own a briefcase. But I must say, if my choice in personal storage solutions is now a political issue, I would encourage you to look inside yourself and ask—are we truly elevating the national conversation?”

⸻

REPORTER #7 (frustrated, throwing hands up)

“Alright, final question—what kind of watch are you wearing?”

MARK CARNEY (checks wrist, sighs deeply, then looks at the camera like he’s in The Office)

“A Timex. Because I love Canada, and because, clearly, my job is to answer the real concerns of the people.”

⸻

Carney nods, claps his hands together, and walks off. The media scrum erupts in a frenzy, half of them Googling “Timex watch prices” as the cameras fade to black.

[kevosaicreations]

Scene: Two friends, Connie (a die-hard Conservative) and Libby (a chill Liberal), sit at a Tim Hortons, sipping double-doubles. The TV in the corner blares news about Mark Carney’s Liberals surging to 50% in the polls.

Libby (calmly stirring her coffee): Well, Connie, looks like Prime Minister Carney’s got the country sorted. Did you see the latest polls? Liberals at 50%! Guess folks are tired of Pierre’s little catchphrases.

Connie (already twitching): Catchphrases?! Pierre’s a genius, Libby! “Axe the Tax!” “Canada First!” That’s leadership! Not like your fancy-pants banker boy, Mark “I Ran the Bank of England” Carney. What’s he ever done besides count money and sip tea with the Queen?

Libby (smiling serenely): Oh, you mean besides steering Canada through a financial crisis and now humiliating Pierre in the polls? I’d say he’s doing alright. Plus, he doesn’t strut around like a peacock yelling “Broken Canada” every five minutes.

Connie (slamming her cup down, spilling a bit): Smug?! Pierre’s not smug! He’s confident! He’s got swagger! Your guy’s the smug one—swanning in here with his suits and his “I’m above all this” vibe. Fifty percent? Pfft! Those polls are rigged by Trudeau’s ghost or something!

Libby (unfazed, sipping her coffee): Rigged? Connie, the only thing rigged is Pierre’s hair gel supply. And let’s be real—Mark’s got him rattled. Did you see that rally? Pierre was yelling “Carbon Tax Carney” like a broken record, and Carney just smiled and fixed the economy in, like, a day.

Connie (voice rising, waving a donut for emphasis): Fixed the economy?! FIXED IT?! He’s been PM for five minutes, Libby! Pierre’s been fighting for us for 20 years—20 YEARS!—and you’re telling me some slick globalist waltzes in and takes over? I bet Carney’s got a secret lair where he’s counting his gold coins right now!

Libby (still cool as a cucumber): Twenty years, huh? Funny, all I’ve seen is him perfecting that smirk and rhyming “tax” with “axe.” Meanwhile, Mark’s out there actually running the country. The polls don’t lie—50% says people want a grown-up, not a slogan machine.

Connie (now standing, donut crumbs flying): SLOGAN MACHINE?! Pierre’s a visionary! He’s gonna bring back common sense! You Liberals just love your elitist nonsense—Carney probably thinks “common sense” is a type of artisanal cheese! I can’t believe this—50%?! I need to speak to the pollsters! WHERE ARE THEY HIDING?!

Libby (grinning, leaning back): Oh, relax, Connie. Have a Timbits. Pierre’s still got his fans—well, the ones who like bumper stickers over policy. But Mark’s got the wheel now, and the country’s loving it. Maybe Pierre can use this time to workshop some new lines. “Lose the Blues?” “Carney’s Phony?” He’s got options.

Connie (red-faced, pacing): OPTIONS?! He doesn’t need options! He’s got the truth! You wait, Libby—when Pierre storms back, you’ll see! He’ll “Axe the Smug” right out of Carney! I’m writing him a letter right now! WHERE’S MY PEN?!

Libby (calmly offering a pen): Here, borrow mine. Just don’t stab the table with it. Look, I get it—you love your guy. But the polls are speaking, and Mark’s got the mic. Maybe Pierre can take up stand-up comedy. He’s halfway there with that smug grin.

Connie (snatching the pen, muttering): Stand-up comedy… I’ll give YOU stand-up comedy… “Mark Carney walks into a bar, raises taxes, and calls it progress…” Ugh, I need a stronger coffee for this nonsense!

Libby (chuckling): Oh, Connie, never change. Well, except maybe your vote—50% can’t be wrong, right?

Connie (storming off): FIFTY PERCENT?! I’LL SHOW YOU FIFTY PERCENT! Wait ‘til Pierre hears about this!

Libby (calling after her, still sipping): Tell him to bring a new slogan! The old ones are getting stale!

End Scene: Connie stomps out, leaving a trail of donut crumbs, while Libby just shakes her head and enjoys the Liberal lead in peace.

[kevosaicreations]

INT. TIM HORTONS – DAY

A CONSERVATIVE SUPPORTER (let’s call him DAVE) and a LIBERAL SUPPORTER (we’ll call her LINDA) sit across from each other. Dave’s double-double is shaking in his hand as his frustration builds. Linda calmly sips her steeped tea.

DAVE (grumbling)

“I just don’t get it, Linda. Mark Carney wasn’t even elected and now he’s Prime Minister? That’s not democracy! That’s, that’s… a Liberal coup!”

LINDA (shrugging)

“Well, Dave, technically, we don’t vote for a Prime Minister. We vote for a party, and the party chooses its leader. That’s how parliamentary democracy works.”

DAVE (vein twitching)

“Oh, sure, quote rules at me. That’s so Liberal of you.”

LINDA

“And to be fair, Carney’s an economist. Pretty smart guy, actually.”

DAVE (voice rising)

“Oh yeah? Well, Pierre is smart too! He’s got a plan! He’s going to axe the tax, fix the economy, and—”

LINDA

“—bring home common sense. Yeah, I’ve heard the slogans, Dave.”

DAVE (pointing dramatically)

“THEY’RE NOT SLOGANS, THEY’RE SOLUTIONS!”

LINDA (raising an eyebrow)

“Okay, then, what’s his plan beyond repeating ‘Axe the Tax’ like a malfunctioning GPS?”

DAVE (sputtering)

“He’s gonna… uh… well, first he’s gonna axe the tax, and then he’s gonna—fix the economy! And then he’s gonna—”

LINDA

“—bring home common sense?”

DAVE (slams table)

“EXACTLY!”

LINDA (calmly sipping tea)

“Still waiting on the actual plan, Dave.”

DAVE (now full red in the face)

“YOU LIBERALS LOVE PLANS! WELL, SOMETIMES THE PLAN IS NO PLAN!”

LINDA

“Ah yes, the ‘hope and vibes’ strategy.”

DAVE (throwing hands up)

“OH FOR THE LOVE OF—”

A TIM HORTONS EMPLOYEE walks over with a tray.

EMPLOYEE

“Hey, uh, could you guys keep it down? You’re scaring the Roll Up The Rim winners.”

DAVE (grumbling, takes a deep breath, sips coffee)

“Fine. But when Pierre wins the next election, you’ll see. He’s gonna bring home common sense.”

LINDA

“Dave, you still haven’t told me what that means.”

DAVE (defeated, mumbling)

“…it means he’s gonna win.”

LINDA (smirking)

“Sure, Dave… Sure…”

FADE TO BLACK.

[kevosaicreations]

INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM – NIGHT

Red emergency lights flash. Chaos. Aides sprint between desks. A GENERAL slams a report on the table.

GENERAL

“Mr. President, it’s confirmed. Canada just… banned Pornhub in the U.S.”

PRESIDENT (pale, sweating)

“…My God.”

ECONOMIC ADVISOR (frantically flipping through charts)

“Sir, the Dow just dropped 5,000 points. Google searches for ‘VPN’ are up 9000%. The WiFi in Congress just crashed!”

DEFENSE SECRETARY (shaking head)

“This is worse than we feared. Sir, we have reports of mass panic. Starbucks baristas are saying customers are making eye contact. I repeat—eye contact!”

PRESIDENT (pounding table)

“Damn it! I won’t let Trudeau play us like this. Get me the Canadian Prime Minister—NOW!”

CUT TO: INT. OTTAWA – PRIME MINISTER’S OFFICE

The CANADIAN PRIME MINISTER leans back in his chair, sipping Tim Hortons coffee. He smirks as he watches the White House meltdown on a giant screen.

CANADIAN PRIME MINISTER (to an aide)

“Initiate Phase Two.”

AIDE (nodding)

“Releasing the last batch of maple syrup reserves now, sir.”

The Prime Minister grins as the national anthem plays softly in the background.

FADE TO BLACK.

[kevosaicreations]

Pierre Poilievre’s Furious (and Hilarious) Rant About Mark Carney

Oh, fantastic. Just fantastic. Mark Goldman Sachs Carney is back, and suddenly, the media’s acting like Canada just got its very own economic superhero. Oh, look, it’s Super Banker! Able to leap interest rates in a single bound! Can balance a budget while sipping a soy latte! Ooooh, everyone’s so impressed.

Well, I hate to break it to you, folks, but Mark Carney isn’t some economic savior. No, no. He’s a smooth-talking, Davos-loving, Liberal insider who spent years sipping champagne with European elites while the rest of us were stuck here, dealing with Trudeau’s never-ending fiscal dumpster fire. But sure, let’s all swoon because he used to run a central bank. Woohoo.

And now—NOW—the Liberals are parading him around like he’s the second coming of Sir John A. Macdonald. “Oh, Mark, please save us from our terrible poll numbers! Oh, Mark, please rescue us from the economic mess we made!” Meanwhile, I’ve been out here for years—fighting, debating, warning Canadians about Trudeau’s reckless spending. But suddenly, this guy shows up with his fancy British accent and his “global experience,” and everyone’s acting like he’s Justin Trudeau with a calculator.

You know what Carney really is? He’s just another out-of-touch Liberal who thinks government should run your life. Oh, he’ll tell you he’s all about “fiscal responsibility,” but let’s not forget—this is the guy who helped invent the carbon tax! Yeah, the one making everything more expensive. You like paying more for gas? More for groceries? More for, well, existing? Thank Mark Carney. He’s basically Trudeau in a better suit.

And let’s talk about his real skills. Sure, he can give a nice speech at some big-shot banking conference, but can he handle real Canadians? Can he survive in a Timmies lineup in Red Deer? Does he even know what a double-double is? I doubt it. And let’s not pretend this guy actually wants to be in politics. He’s been teasing a run longer than Trudeau’s been ruining our economy. He’s like that one friend who keeps saying they’re “thinking about” starting a podcast but never does. Just do it or don’t, Mark!

But noooo, now he’s actually making moves, and suddenly I’m supposed to be worried? Please. I’ve been taking on Liberals my entire career. I’ve taken on Chrystia “Can’t-Balance-A-Budget” Freeland, and I’ve been hammering Trudeau like a broken IKEA desk. And now I’m supposed to shake in my boots over a guy whose biggest accomplishment is raising interest rates? Give me a break.

So go ahead, media. Keep fawning over your golden boy. Keep acting like he’s some economic genius sent to rescue Canada. Meanwhile, I’ll be out here doing what I always do—talking to actual Canadians, fighting for actual affordability, and making sure this country doesn’t get taken over by another Liberal elitist who thinks he knows best.

Carney can try all he wants, but let me be clear: This election isn’t going to be won in the boardrooms of Bay Street or the halls of Davos. It’ll be won by the hardworking people of Canada who are sick and tired of being told what to do by another silver-spoon Liberal who thinks they’re better than everyone else.

So bring it on, Mark. Let’s see if you can handle a real fight.

[kevosaicreations]

Opening Scene – White Flotus

FADE IN:

A private jet descends onto a pristine island, its wheels touching down on a sun-kissed runway. A golden sign at the airport entrance reads: “WELCOME TO WHITE FLOTUS – A Luxury Retreat for Former First Ladies.”

Cue slow-motion shot as MELANIA TRUMP, JILL BIDEN, and LAURA BUSH step off the jet, each in oversized sunglasses, flowing designer resort wear, and dragging expensive luggage behind them. The tropical wind dramatically tousles their hair.

JILL BIDEN (cheerfully)

Oh my gosh, ladies, can you believe we finally made it? A week of rest, relaxation, and absolutely no press briefings!

MELANIA TRUMP (deadpan, adjusting sunglasses)

I believe when I see the minibar.

LAURA BUSH (grinning, looking around)

This place is gorgeous! Like Camp David… but with taste.

A resort staff member—a ridiculously handsome man named ALEJANDRO—approaches, bowing slightly as he hands each woman a welcome cocktail.

ALEJANDRO (smoothly)

Welcome to White Flotus, where your legacy is our priority. May I say, it is an honor to serve such distinguished guests.

MELANIA takes her drink, inspects it like it might be poisoned, then shrugs and takes a sip.

MELANIA

We see.

JILL clinks her glass with LAURA’s.

JILL

To a drama-free vacation!

LAURA (chuckling, under her breath)

Yeah… good luck with that.

Just then, a familiar voice shrieks from behind them.

VOICE (offscreen, dramatic, unmistakable)

EXCUSE ME, but WHY was I not invited?!

The women turn in horror as HILLARY CLINTON steps off a second jet, wearing an enormous sunhat and power suit, dragging three Louis Vuitton suitcases behind her.

HILLARY (squinting, hands on hips)

Did someone say Flotus? Because last time I checked, I still technically count!

MELANIA groans, JILL looks delighted, and LAURA downs her entire cocktail in one gulp.

FADE TO BLACK.

TITLE CARD: WHITE FLOTUS

[kevosaicreations]

Title: “Pierre’s Plea”

Characters:

• Pierre Poilievre (PP) – Desperate, trying to sound confident but clearly struggling.

• Doug Ford (DF) – Amused, a little smug, and not letting Pierre off easy.

⸻

Scene: Doug Ford’s Office – Afternoon

(Doug Ford is sitting at his desk, eating a Timbit. Pierre Poilievre walks in, looking nervous but trying to act casual.)

PP: Doug! My man! My good friend! My very good friend. How are ya?

DF: (mouth full) Oh hey, Pierre. Didn’t see you there. Been busy, you know—running a province and all.

PP: Haha, yeah, yeah, no, I totally respect that. Speaking of running things, I thought we could have a little chat about, uh… helping each other out.

DF: Helping each other out? Ohhh, you mean like how you helped me when I won my election? Oh wait—(leans forward)—you didn’t say a word, did ya? Not even a lil’ tweet? Not even a “Congrats, big guy!” Nothing.

PP: (clears throat) Well, you know how it is, Doug. Busy schedule, lots of priorities—

DF: Oh yeah, super busy. Had time for, what, 800 tweets about the Bank of Canada, but not one about me? Hurts, buddy. Really does.

PP: (forcing a smile) Look, I’ll be honest. Things are a little tight in the polls right now, and I could use your, uh, enthusiastic support. A good ol’ Doug Ford endorsement!

DF: (laughs) Ohhh, so now I’m your buddy? Now you need big bad Doug to come pump your tires?

PP: (through gritted teeth) Yes, Doug. I need you to pump my tires.

DF: Hmm. Lemme think about it… (pretends to think for 3 seconds) No.

PP: (blinking) …No?

DF: Nooope. Not happening.

PP: (nervous chuckle) Doug, come on. We’re on the same team here.

DF: Are we? ‘Cause last time I checked, you like to take lil’ jabs at me in speeches. Call me a big spender, a flip-flopper. But now you need ol’ Dougie to toss you a life raft?

PP: Look, I was just—uh—being constructive! Tough love! You know how it is.

DF: Oh, I know how it is. And I love watching you squirm.

PP: Doug, please. I’m getting hammered out there. Carney’s kicking my ass, my numbers are slipping, and I need a boost.

DF: (grinning) Ahh, music to my ears.

PP: Just a little help. A press conference, a photo op, maybe a—

DF: (laughs) Ohhh, you want the full Doug Ford Experience™? You want me to go out there and say (mocking voice) “Pierre Poilievre’s a great guy, the best guy, nobody better, vote for him”?

PP: Uh, yes? That would be ideal?

DF: Nah.

PP: (exasperated) Doug, come on!

DF: (leaning back) Tell you what. You wanna make it up to me? Say something nice. Right here, right now. Tell the world how much you love Doug Ford.

PP: (strained) Doug… you’re… a… very… effective premier.

DF: Oof, that was painful. Try again.

PP: Doug Ford is… an inspiration to all Ontarians?

DF: Now say, “I love his budget management skills.”

PP: (gritting teeth) I… love… his… budget management skills.

DF: Awww, that’s so nice! But still no endorsement. (pops another Timbit in his mouth)

PP: (groaning) You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

DF: Oh buddy, this is better than a Leafs game.

(Pierre sighs deeply, realizing he’s getting nowhere as Doug grins and reaches for another Timbit. Fade to black.)

[END SCENE]

[kevosaicreations]

Title: The Great Policy Heist

Setting: The Prime Minister’s Office, House of Commons. A sleek, modern office with a giant Canadian flag, a portrait of the Queen (or King, depending on what’s available), and a large desk where Prime Minister Mark Carney sits, flipping through a binder labeled “Pierre’s Best Ideas.”

Suddenly, the door BURSTS open. Pierre Poilievre storms in, looking exasperated, holding a stack of papers.

⸻

Scene 1: The Confrontation

PIERRE POILIEVRE (pointing an accusatory finger)

Mark. Enough is enough.

MARK CARNEY (calm, flipping another page in the binder)

Pierre! Lovely to see you. You look… animated. Would you like a glass of fiscal responsibility? I mean, water?

PIERRE POILIEVRE (ignoring the offer, slamming the papers on Carney’s desk)

Mark. You’re stealing my policies!

MARK CARNEY (innocently)

Stealing? Oh, Pierre, such strong words. I prefer implementing effective governance.

PIERRE POILIEVRE (leaning forward, whisper-yelling)

You axed the tax. That was MY thing! That was my slogan! I’ve said it 47,000 times on social media!

MARK CARNEY (nodding thoughtfully)

And you said it so well, Pierre. Truly, an inspiration.

PIERRE POILIEVRE (eyes twitching)

And now… now you’re cutting the GST on new homebuyers. I ANNOUNCED THAT LAST YEAR!

MARK CARNEY (smiling, nodding again)

And I just thought, “Wow, what a fantastic idea. The people will love it.” And wouldn’t you know it? They do!

PIERRE POILIEVRE (throwing his hands up)

You’re stealing my homework and handing it in for better grades!

MARK CARNEY (shrugging)

Well, in fairness, I was a Rhodes Scholar. I know how to… refine ideas.

PIERRE POILIEVRE (pointing aggressively)

This is blatant plagiarism! First, you take my policies, then what? You gonna start wearing my glasses? You gonna start calling everyone “folks”?

MARK CARNEY (grinning, reaching into his desk and pulling out a pair of Poilievre-style glasses, putting them on)

What do you think? Do I look leaderly?

PIERRE POILIEVRE (eyes wide, pointing at the glasses)

No. Absolutely not. Take those off. Those are my thing.

MARK CARNEY (adjusting the glasses, inspecting himself in a mirror)

Hmm. I do feel more… populist.

PIERRE POILIEVRE (grabbing his own hair in frustration)

Mark, this isn’t fair. I was leading in the polls! I was CRUSHING you!

MARK CARNEY (nodding sagely)

You were.

PIERRE POILIEVRE (pleading)

And now, you’re pulling ahead because you just keep… copying me! It’s like I’m running against a smarter, more well-spoken, more economically literate version of myself!

MARK CARNEY (leaning back, smugly sipping his coffee)

Pierre, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.

PIERRE POILIEVRE (throwing up his hands)

OH, COME ON!

MARK CARNEY (handing Pierre a document)

Tell you what, Pierre. I’ll stop taking your policies—

PIERRE POILIEVRE (suspicious)

…Go on.

MARK CARNEY

If you can come up with just one that I wouldn’t want to implement.

PIERRE POILIEVRE (pausing, thinking, then confidently pointing)

Fine. Here’s one. I will abolish the CBC.

MARK CARNEY (calmly flipping through a notepad)

Hmm. You know, I was considering restructuring it—

PIERRE POILIEVRE (screaming)

NO! NO MORE STEALING!

MARK CARNEY (chuckling)

Alright, alright. But Pierre… we do make a great team, don’t we?

PIERRE POILIEVRE (glaring, then pointing aggressively)

Stay out of my platform, Carney. This is war.

MARK CARNEY (smiling, raising his coffee cup)

Cheers to that.

Pierre groans in frustration and storms out, slamming the door behind him. The second he’s gone, Carney picks up the phone.

MARK CARNEY (into the phone)

Hey, team? Let’s look into that CBC thing. Pierre might be onto something.

[FADE TO BLACK.]