Power corrupts

"Good morning Sweetie. Are you awake?"
"I think so."
"Can you hear my stomach growling?
"I heard something, but I wasn't sure. . ."
"I'm awfully hungry. . . Why don't you get up and cook a real nice brekkie?"
"Actually I'm not that hungry, but if you decide to get up, think you could scorch me a steak with a mess of hashbrowns?"
"Aw come on Sweetie. . . I'll wash your car after."
"I don't know. . . everybody knows it's the wife who usually cooks breakfast."
"But you're such a fantastic cook. Come on Dear. . . up and at 'em. Oh, and don't forget, I take margarine on my toast."
"Since I do all the outdoor cooking, you should do all the indoor cooking. It's only fair."
"Fair? We have maybe five barbecues a year. Is that fair?"
"But I usually have ten or twelve people to cook for. . . it all works out."
"You don't do anything in the winter."
"I shovel snow."
"So do I!"
"Did you know that MacLeans Magazine says that wives who wear pajamas in bed become frigid?"
"yeah, well, did you know that only uncouth husbands sleep naked?"
"Did your Mom tell you that?"
"No, I read it in Cosmo."
"Naked is comfortable. If you didn't have pajamas on you'd probably still be asleep."
"Yeah, but you wouldn't be!
"True. I'd probably be up cooking you a beautiful breakfast."
"Well okay then. . . if you cook breakfast, I'll take off my pajamas."
"Okay. Go ahead. . ."
"No, no. First you cook breakfast, then I'll take my pajamas off."
"Isn't that blackmail or something?"
"It's not blackmail if you're married."
"So I'll cook breakfast, then I come back upstairs and. . ."
"No. It doesn't work like that."
"How about if I promise to cook you a magnificent breakfast. . . after?"
"No. It doesn't work like that either."
"Okay, how does it work?"
"Well, you go downstairs and you slowly cook a beautiful brekkie and when it's all done you call me. Then I take off my pajamas. . . "
"And then I run back upstairs and. . ."
"No. . . then I get dressed and join you downstairs for that magnificent breakfast."
"And after breakfast?"
"I'll do the dishes. . . unless you want to?"
That's not fair. You lied."
"No. I said if you cook brekkie, I'll take my pajamas off. . . and I will, honest."
"Okay, okay. How about this then? I'll go downstairs, cook a zinger of a breakfast, put it all in the oven to keep it warm. . . slowly come back upstairs and slowly say, Dearie, breakfast is cooked, then I quickly jump back into bed?"
"That'll be great. Then I'll quickly jump out of bed and go into the bathroom, take off my pajamas, have a nice, long shower, because I know my zinger of a breakfast is being kept warm, pull on a skirt or jeans or something, and we both go down and have a hearty zinger brekkie. How's that for good planning?"
"Oh, God, yes. You're a devil of a planner! You know what? I'm really not hungry. I think I'll just lay here and think of Paris Hilton."
"Good choice. She's so pretty. And guess what. . . she doesn't wear pajamas in bed!"
"Oh?. . . Cosmo?"
"My Mom."
"You're kind of pretty yourself, especially when you're trying to be funny."
"And you're kind of funny when you're trying to butter me up."
"I'd never do that. You don't like butter."
"True. . . still, an honest compliment can sometimes achieve fantastic results."
"I love the way your nose turns up slightly. . . And your hair! Your hair reminds me of a Mexican sunset. . . and your figure is fantastic though you could probably put on a couple of pounds to make it absolutely perfect, and your eyes. . ."
"Okay, okay, that's enough. . . do you really think I could use a few more pounds?"
"Absobloodylutely! At least five!"
"Well, I'm not sure how honest you're being, but it sounds awfully nice."
"Nice enough to achieve fantastic results?"
"Maybe. . . any chance you could wash my car. . . after?"

Dimmy

~

"So, Keith, you say the Conservatives wouldn't allow you into the room where all the other journalists were invited for a briefing?"
"That's right Carol, the Conservative Government spokesman told me it was a closed meeting."
"Do you, Keith Boag, have any idea why you, a CBC journalist, would not be allowed into a meeting where a whole bunch of other journalists had been invited by the government?"
"No, Carol, I have no idea."
"Now Keith, this is a very serious matter. . . Are you saying you don't have any idea why you would not be allowed to be a part of this government briefing?"
"Well, Carol, it wasn't just me who was not allowed into this meeting. It was each and every CBC reporter. No CBC reporters were allowed into the room where the briefing was taking place."
"Well, Keith, I find it strange that you have no idea why nary a CBC reporter was allowed into the briefing."
"Well, it may be strange Carol, but I don't have any idea why nary a CBC person was allowed into that room."
"Could it be that you, and most all of the other CBC reporters, like myself, are card carrying members of the Liberal Party and we sometimes are told to . . . uh. . . Liberalize the news a little. . .?"
"Good Grief! No! No! A thousand times NO! Carol, you really shouldn't say stuff like that. . . Not out loud!"
"I've been told the Puffy Duffy was allowed in and was seen leaving with a whole stack of government-supplied documents for his perusal. Is that true, Keith?"
"I don't know."
"Do you think the reason that no CBC reporters were allowed into this meeting has anything to do with Susan Bonner screaming at the Prime Minister on the concrete steps in The House?"
"I don't know."
"Apparently she used to do that all the time when Stephen Harper was first elected. I remember her screams reverberating all around that concrete cavern area of The House. --- 'Mr Harper, Mr Harper. Is it true your belt size has grown by two whole notches?'--- Such ignorance! Don't you agree, Keith?"
"Carol, why are you talking this way?"
"Do you think, Keith, the reason NOT ONE cbc reporter was allowed in that room might have something to do with the CBC assassination of Stockwell Day in that bit of yellow journalism that has become known as the Dinasaur Doo Doo Doctrine which made sure of the re-election of that crooked little creton from Shewinnigate?"
"I don't know, Carol. I just don't know. Please stop saying things like that."
"Do you think the reason no CBC reporters were allowed into that room tonight might have something to do with the way Peter, Rex, Kathleen, David, Don, Nancy and the whole myriad of TV and radio people, including myself, have continually twisted the facts and actually lied about things trying to make the Liberals look good and the Conservatives look like demons?"
"Carol. What's wrong with you? You sound like a CTV person for God's sake!"
Well, Keith, Baby. . . It just so happens the CTV has offered me a job. Yeah, Keith. . . A job where I will be able to report the truth! Did you hear me, Keith? The TRUTH! The real Goddam, bloody TRUTH! Oh, and guess what, Keith. Ha, ha ,ha, I'm invited to a closed door meeting tomorrow night! Closed to all CBC reporters, that is. Oh Lordy, Lordy! I wish, I could wait around to see the faces of all those poor CBC people as they return from their weekends, but I can't. I have a date with my keyboard! Hot Damn! It's going to be so great to actually type the facts for a change! Sorry Keith, but I guess you'll never experience that feeling! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. . . "

Dimmy