Justin Trudeau walked into a bar in Ottawa, and headed straight to the biggest mirror. “What would you like to drink, sir?” the barman enquired. Trudeau did not reply, appearing to be mesmerised by his reflection. “Excuse me, sir, would you like some refreshment?” the barman tried again, politely. Again, silence, while Trudeau began stroking the mirror affectionately.

Bemused, the barman, whose name was ‘Buck’, tried a third time, with the same result, crickets. He did not fail to notice that Trudeau was now kissing the mirror, copious drool trickling down to the floor.

Now nonplussed, Buck decided upon a brilliant tactic: he asked the reflection “Sir, what would you like to drink?” To his astonishment, the reflection answered, “I’ll have what he’s having, actually.”

“But, sir, upon reflection, that will be nothing, as he won’t answer me,” Buck replied wittily, in exasperation. “Well, in that case, I know his favourite is a ‘Fidel on the roof’,” the mirror said.

“That’s one I don’t know, how do you mix it?” asked Buck, the barman.

“Well, you start with a cup of bagasse, fermented for two weeks in a tobacco leaf, squeeze this into a shot of Cuban dark rum, lime and cranberry juices, sugar, it’s a development, really, from the ‘Culto a la Vida’.”

From Buck, the barman: “’Culto a la Vida’ I can do, ‘Fidel on the roof’ I no can do… Can he keep kissing the mirror awhile longer while I figure something out?” The reflection came back, “You’ve no idea how long he can keep kissing me, his reflection!”

“Okay, pretty boy’s planning to stay a while, this buys me time,” Buck rolled his eyes, while pondering where he could source the bagasse and tobacco leaf from. “Yeah, sure,” the reflection answered. “Justin will drool at his reflection for weeks, sometimes.”

Another idea came to Buck the barman, and he called over the lead lady in the cabaret act, who had a stellar cast of a dozen stunningly attractive women, starting a show in an hour. He confided in her the predicament of a hopeless narcissist glued to his own reflection in the mirror, beside the bar. “Leave it to me, Buck baby!” she declared, winking at him, and went off to brief the ladies.

Before long she returned, and one stunner after another, all scantily-clad, and the epitome of luscious woman-hood at its prime, began primping, pampering, caressing, smooching, and otherwise fulfilling every red-blooded man’s dream of female attentiveness, with no result. Trudeau and his reflection were inseparable.

Finally, in a last-ditch attempt to unglue this wonder of self-adoration from the mirror, the lead lady squeezed herself between Trudeau and the mirror, now slippery from Trudeau’s drool, and momentarily came face to face with ‘the most beautiful man in the world’. “Aaaaggghhhh!” Trudeau squealed, shoving the woman aside to the floor, and resumed the rudely interrupted osculation with himself.

After recovering from the bump to the floor, she declared, “We give up! You’ve got a hard case there, Buck, good luck!” and scurried backstage with her troupe to prepare for the night’s cabaret performance, with the growing bevy of real men, in the lounge, eagerly awaiting the entertainment.

Meanwhile, on a whim, Buck the barman phoned another bar nearby in the inner city, and asked his old friend and best buddy, Mack, who managed the joint, “Do you know how to make a ‘Fidel on the roof’?” “Well paint my sugar cane blue, yes I do!” he exclaimed. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve got a dandy here who wants one, a self-entitled narcissistic prick in fact, – I can do the ’Culto a la Vida’ part, but not the fermented bagasse part.”

“I’ll bring the ingredients over right now, Buck, it will be good to say hello, it’s been a while,” Mack insisted, and set to gathering the gear together, putting it into a box, and onto the seat beside him in his prime mover, and set off. Mack, whose real name was ‘Chuck’, only travelled in his Mack truck, thus earning him his sobriquet.

Not long after, in a cloud of dust and the unforgettable rumble of the Titan’s 16-liter big-block MP10, Chuck arrived, cocktail ingredients in hand (in the box, actually), and strode into the bar, placed the box on the bench, vice-like grip handshaked his friend, Buck, before locking eyes with the pretty boy Trudeau’s reflection, a few feet away.

Trudeau instantly released the suction from his own face, and declared, “Hey, white trash, that’s a Mack truck out there you came in. Were you part of the despicable trucker blockade in 2022, trying to oppose my government’s righteous Covid-19 mandates?”

Both sides recognised each other, with Chuck replying, “I was proudly part of the great Freedom Convoy, yes, no thanks to you!”

“You’re an insult to the truth...