Put this in your pipe and pipe it! - The Chaff with Scott Stephenson

Yowling winds rattled the stained-glass windows of Parliament as the federal government unveiled its boldest infrastructure plan in the nation’s long and occasionally coherent history: the The Chaff pipeline, a gleaming cross-country conduit engineered to transport unfiltered satire from coast to coast. Officials insist it will “boost national morale and lubricate the economy,” though no one can quite explain how a 4,800-kilometre stainless-steel comedy tube will accomplish either. 

 

Environmental groups warn that the pipeline will disrupt migratory pun routes, which many Canadians depend on for seasonal comedy. Economists forecast that flooding the market with low-cost irony may cause a collapse in the artisanal satire sector, particularly in Montreal where irony has been cottage-industry certified since 1973. A respected quantum linguist has argued before committee that the introduction of such a large-scale silliness conduit could destabilize the country’s seriousness field. The linguist then admitted he had not slept since 1998 and requested a blanket.

 

Complicating matters, several Chaff ministers have resigned. Observers initially assumed these departures were born of moral objection or ideological friction. They were not. Each minister, given the option of continuing to work, chose instead to succumb joyfully to indolence. One left a note reading, “Too much paperwork; going for a lie-down,” pinned to a half-eaten ham sandwich. Another simply vanished while refilling a stapler. A third spent three days attempting to resign telepathically, which delayed the process significantly since no one noticed. A fourth minister technically resigned during a nap, mumbling something about “nacho heart burn,” and opted to remain horizontal indefinitely.

 

Despite these departures, government spokespeople maintain an almost eerie enthusiasm. They argue the pipeline will unite Canadians by supplying the entire country with a continuous, high-pressure flow of The Chaff, allowing citizens to tap a valve behind any post office and enjoy fresh satire piped directly into their kettles. Officials claim this will reduce reliance on imported American sarcasm and strengthen domestic laughter security. 

 

Public reaction continues to escalate in spectacular fashion. Protesters march in looping figure eights outside the House of Commons, carrying signs reading “Stop the Flow!” and “Too Much Humour!” and “Pipelines Are For Oil!”

 

Meanwhile, a group of concerned rural mayors and reeves has gathered to determine how many metres of pipeline they must host before they qualify for a federal chuckle rebate. The mayors and reeves have sent a letter requesting clarity on pipeline etiquette, such as whether residents should offer a limerick to pipeline workers or simply salute the tubes as they pass by. One mayor has already declared their township a “satire sanctuary” and is installing velvet curtains to ensure pipeline vibrations remain acoustically tasteful.

 

Inside the capital, the rollout of this monumental project has been no less theatrical. During the groundbreaking ceremony at dawn, a minister attempted to pierce the soil with a ceremonial shovel only for the ground to refuse, firmly and audibly. Undeterred, officials declared this resistance a “promising omen” and moved the ceremony indoors where they achieved symbolic progress by tipping over a potted fern and applauding for seven uninterrupted minutes.

 

The rabble regulator released a 2,000-page report on projected pipeline impacts. Not one person has read it because the report emits a faint giggle when opened, which has discouraged serious study. A draft section suggests the pipeline may achieve carbon neutrality by absorbing excess smugness from political speeches. Another warns that the pressure within the pipe must never exceed the National Jesting Threshold (NJT) or the resulting rupture could coat three provinces in a thin film of chortle spray.
Amid the chaos, cabinet members still on the job insist the pipeline is essential to maintaining Canada’s competitive edge in global goofball markets. “If we don’t build this, someone else will, and it will be hilarious,” one minister declared.

 

So the great national debate continues: Should Canada commit fully to the The Chaff pipeline, a project of no clear utility, questionable physics and a staffing roster composed mostly of nappers? Or should the nation halt construction before it destabilizes already fragile yucks reserves and warps the very fabric of national stoogery and general goofiness?

 

One thing is certain. When future generations leaf through their schoolbooks and ask “Why?”, we will answer confidently and without hesitation: “So the chicken could cross the road.” Let’s get to the other side - via pipeline - together.