Blow It out Your Whistle

What follows is the testimony of one Ronald S. Gumflap, Junior Secondary Third Level Advisor to Governmental Intern and Executive PMO Coffee Maker Bernadette Valdez, an exchange student on work term from Colombia. In the three years that Mr. Gumflap served in this key position of the Canadian civil service, he was privy to not only the most sensitive of internal Liberal party correspondence and conversation, but the most personal of events in the office of the Prime Minister.

The transcript you are about to read is shocking, and might not be suitable for young readers. Parental and personal discretion is advised.

John Williams, Public Accounts Committee Chairman: So, Mr. Gumflap, can you tell us how you came to be here today?

Ronald Gumflap: Well, Mr. Chairman, the fact is that I blew the whistle in the Prime Minister's office.

JW: Well, yes, that is the point of these proceedings, Mr. Gumflap.

RG: No, you don't understand, I blew my whistle in his office. You see, my mother gave it to me when I was eight, and said I should blow it if I was ever in distress. I keep it on my key chain.

JW: I see. And why did you blow your whistle, on, let me see, June 10th, 1997 is the day, isn't it, Mr. Gumflap?

RG: Yes, Mr. Chairman, that was the day, and well, it was because I saw the Prime Minister on his knees playing with Jacques Villeneuve's fly.

JW: And why was the Prime Minister "playing" with the fly of Monsieur Villeneuve?

RG: Well, he seemed to have a needle stuck in it, Mr. Chairman. They both seemed very distressed about it, and I couldn't help but blow my whistle. Then they explained to me that the Prime Minister was sewing a Maple Leaf onto Mr. Villeneuve's racing suit. They told me to put down the lattés I was carrying, and help them with, well, their predicament.

JW: And did you?

RG: Well, yes, of course. In fact, Mr. Villeneuve seemed very appreciative. Then he said he had a pressing engagement and rushed out of the office.

JW: Is that all he did, Mr. Gumflap?

RG: Well, no. Before he left, he gathered up the three circus midgets that were catching the bundles of money the Prime Minister was throwing at them. It was very entertaining!

JW: And they followed Monsieur Villeneuve out the door?

RG: Oh yes. They said they had to help him change a tire.

JW: I see. And then what happened?

RG: Well, before I could excuse myself, Sheila Martin came in with a tray of brownies, at which time she asked me to help her place them on the Prime Minister's desk, which of course, I did, though I found it very distressing that the lattés were getting cold, having steamed the milk to the Prime Minister's exacting standards. I must be frank, however, in stating that he seemed to be more interested in the brownies.

JW: What followed, Mr. Gumflap?

RG: They ate the brownies, Mr. Chairman.

JW: Did it seem odd to you that the Finance Minister's wife was eating "brownies" with the Prime Minister at nine o'clock in the morning?

RG: Well, no, not really. She did that every morning. She would bring in a tray of brownies, they'd both eat some, and then, well, she'd always give me a wink as she left, while the Prime Minister fell into a bit of a stupor mumbling about Fritos and Twinkies.

JW: Did you see any money change hands during these "brownie" visits, Mr. Gumflap?

RG: Well, no, not as such, though I did see Mrs. Martin nick a few candelabras on the way out. The Prime Minister never seemed to mind.

JW: Well, needless to say, Mr. Gumflap, this is very damning, provocative testimony. I think I speak for the committee when I say that you are by far the most credible, believable witness we have had, and I assure you that under new "whistle-blower" legislation, you will be safe from prosecution, cross-examination, or inquiry of any kind.

RG: I'd like to add something, if I may.

JW: Please, Mr. Gumflap, but speak up for the media at hand, if you please.

RG: Ah, yes. Sorry. I'd just like to add, for the record, if I may, that when the Prime Minister was, well, eating brownies, he'd make a point of calling my mother for advice.

JW: Your mother?

RG: Well, yes. He would pick up the phone and say, "My dear Aline, I've been wondering what your thoughts are on this whole 'Middle East' issue."

JW: Aline?

RG: Yes, Aline Gumflap, my mother.

JW: Not his wife, Mr. Gumflap? Aline Chrétien?

RG: Oh, most certainly not. It was definitely my mother.

JW: And how is it that you are sure of this?

RG: Well, I thought you knew. Mother talks to all the prime ministers. Why, just last week she was sharing a scotch with Sir John A. and suggested he might like to rethink that "Riel thing," all things considered.

JW: I see.

The PMO could not be reached for comment.