INT. GOVERNMENT OFFICE – DAY
A CITIZEN walks up to a desk behind which sits a BUREAUCRAT.
CITIZEN: Excuse me.
BUREAUCRAT: Yes?
CITIZEN: I wanted to fly to Medicine Hat, and –
BUREAUCRAT: Ugh! Why would you want to go there?
CITIZEN: That’s not important.
BUREAUCRAT: No, but, seriously, Medicine Hat?
CITIZEN: It’s a fine city, with many cultural and historical –
BUREAUCRAT: It’s a dump!
CITIZEN: Look! That really isn’t important!
BUREAUCRAT: It must be business.
CITIZEN: I’m sorry.
BUREAUCRAT: Nobody goes to Medicine Hat for pleasure.
CITIZEN: Look! My sister got her head stuck in the tailpipe of a Bugatti, and I have to go to Medicine Hat to give her half my appendix or she may never be able to pronounce words with the letter r in them again! There! Is that reason to go good enough for you?
BUREAUCRAT: (under his breath) I knew it couldn’t have anything to do with pleasure. (aloud) Right, then. What seems to be the problem?
CITIZEN: The problem is that I wasn’t allowed to board the plane. When I offered my ticket to the supercilious stewardess at the gate, I was told that I was on a “no fly” list.
BUREAUCRAT: Supercilious stewardess? That sounds like the title of a porn movie from the 1970s.
CITIZEN: Can we please focus, here?
BUREAUCRAT: Sorry. Your name, please?
CITIZEN: Harold –
BUREAUCRAT: (under his breath) Ahhh…1970s porn. Everybody had moustaches in those movies – even the stewardesses!
CITIZEN: Stop that!
BUREAUCRAT: Oh, fine. Ignore our cultural heritage. Your name?
CITIZEN: Harold Hipphugger.
Bureaucrat consults the computer on his desk.
BUREAUCRAT: There you go, Mister Singh. Your name has clearly been flagged as having potential ties to groups that may be based in the Middle East or some other troubled area of the world, groups that may or may not be carrying out activities that the Canadian government probably wouldn’t approve of if it knew about them, which it likely doesn’t, but it wouldn’t admit even if it did because who the hell do you think you are to question the government’s ability to make sound policy decisions based on rumours and innuendo?
CITIZEN: H…how are you able to say all of that without taking a breath?
BUREAUCRAT: Twenty years in the civil service, Mister Singh. Twenty years of dealing with public complaints. Twenty…long…years. You use whatever advantage you can against the needy bastards, and not having to take a breath is a most useful advantage. Most useful, indeed.
CITIZEN: Well, I’m impress – hey. Did you call me Mister Singh?
BUREAUCRAT: That’s right. Jaspreet Singh. Your name is on my computer screen. Do you want to see it? Well, you can’t. It’s more than my job is worth to show a classified document to a civilian. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. But, still. So, if that’s all, Mister Singh –
CITIZEN: Look. My name is not Singh. It’s Hipphugger. Harold Hipphugger.
BUREAUCRAT: How do you spell that?
CITIZEN: H-I-P-P-H-U-G-G-E-R.
BUREAUCRAT: I see. And, how do you pronounce it?
CITIZEN: I’m sorry.
BUREAUCRAT: Is it possible that you spell it Hipphugger, but you pronounce it Singh?
CITIZEN: No! Why would you think that?
BUREAUCRAT: Maybe they pronounce characters differently where you come from.
CITIZEN: I come from Medicine Hat!
BUREAUCRAT: Well, there you go.
PAUSE.
CITIZEN: Look, my name is not pronounced Singh. In any language.
BUREAUCRAT: Oh. (pause) Well…really? Only, you see, the names are so close that we just had to put you on the no fly list. Can’t take chances with national security, now, can we?
CITIZEN: Close? CLOSE? How do you figure Hipphugger and Singh are close?
BUREAUCRAT: Weeeellll…they both contain consonants. And, vowels.
CITIZEN: But, every name contains consonants and vowels!
BUREAUCRAT: (dreamily) Yes, yes, they do, don’t they?
PAUSE.
CITIZEN: So, how can I get my name off the no fly list?
BUREAUCRAT: Ah. Well. Are you sure –
CITIZEN: Yes.
BUREAUCRAT: Mmm. Well, take this form home and fill it out. (hands Citizen a form) Make another appointment to see me in three weeks. By then, the form will have been replaced by another one. Take the second form home and fill it out. Try to make an appointment with me then, only I will have been transferred to another department. It will take them six weeks to find a replacement for me. The person who has been chosen to replace me will ask you to fill out the first form again, even though you know it is no longer being used by the department. When you have finally filled out and submitted the proper form, CSIS will open a file on you – wanting to get off the no fly list is suspicious activity as defined by the Draconian Response to Suspicious Activity Act of 2008. We will stall the processing of your form for several months while CSIS makes sure you’ve filed tax returns since before you were born, you haven’t been having an illicit relationship with your child’s veterinarian or that you are otherwise the fine and upstanding citizen you claim to be.
CITIZEN: That’s outrageous!
BUREAUCRAT: Weeeeeeeellllllll, you could make things easier on yourself…
CITIZEN: How?
BUREAUCRAT: Have you ever considered changing your name to Singh?