The scene: a dark, dank dungeon under the Langevin Block. Michael Ignatieff has been invited to meet with the Prime Minister.
Michael Ignatieff: Where am I?
Tony Clement: [raspy voice] The Pit of Despair! Don't even think... [clears throat]... don't even think about trying to escape. The chains are far too thick, as is the rhetoric. Don't dream of being rescued, either; the only way in is secret. Only the Prime Minister, Doug Finley and I know how to get in and out.
Ignatieff: So I'm here till I die?
Clement: Until they kill you, yeah.
Ignatieff: Then why bother meeting with me?
Clement: Well, the Prince and Count always insist on everyone being given democratic choice before they're broken.
Ignatieff: So it's to be torture?
Clement: [nods enthusiastically]
Ignatieff: I can cope with torture. I know all about torture.
Clement: [shakes head enthusiastically]
Ignatieff: Don't believe me?
Clement: You survived the leadership race, so you must be very brave, but no one withstands The Machine.
Doug Finley appears.
Finley: Sorry I was delayed, I had to finish some correspondence. [admiring his torture contraption] Beautiful isn't it? It took me half a lifetime to invent it. I'm sure you've discovered my deep and abiding interest in pain. Presently I'm writing the definitive work on the subject, so I want you to be totally honest with me on how The Machine makes you feel. This being your first session, I'll use the lowest setting.
[Finley activates the spin powered torture machine. Ignatieff writhes in great pain]
Finley: [calmly] As you know, the concept of the rumor mill is centuries old. Really that's all this is except that instead of milling rumors, I'm milling truth. Conservative truth. I've just milled one year of your career away. I might one day go as high as five, but I really don't know what that would do to you. So, let's just start with what we have. What did this do to you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity so be honest. How do you feel?
[Ignatieff cries and moans in pain]