sêkwêstkwân ᓭᑫᐧᐢᑎᑳᐧᐣ
3 weeks ago















a towering, smug-faced Mark Carney in an impeccably tailored suit, standing atop a pile of exhausted Albertan oil workers clad in dirt-stained coveralls, his polished Oxford dress shoe crushing the skull of one laborer like a rotten melon. The Canadian flag drapes dramatically behind him, its maple leaf morphing into a blood-red fist clutching wads of cash, while Ottawa's gleaming parliamentary buildings loom in the distance—windows lit with the cold blue glow of bureaucratic screens. At his feet, skeletal children in tattered plaid shirts scramble for loose coins falling from Carney’s overstuffed pockets, their hollow eyes reflecting the flames of a burning oil derrick. A torn "Tax the Rich" poster floats in a puddle of spilled crude, its irony lost beneath Carney’s heel as he adjusts his tie with one hand and signs a new carbon tax decree with the other, ink dripping like venom.

