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Editor’s note:  This is an honest-to-God true story.

Melodie Burkett is an Ontarian who has had it up to “here” with the wind turbine salesmen’s lies and fraud and bullying and abuse.  I mean, she’s HAD IT!  She’s also ballsy.  (Except that, in a woman it’s said, “She’s got ovaries!”)

In any case, Melodie was attending the annual “Ontario Mayor’s Conference” in Ottawa this past week, since her husband, Michael, is Mayor of Whatever.  (Doesn’t matter for purposes of this story.)  Cruising the grand ballroom with its many booths, Melodie spotted a wind company booth bristling with small toy wind turbines—as propaganda devices (“party favors”) for attendees.

Melodie promptly took the escalator down to ground level, exited the hotel and found the nearest drugstore.  She had the clerk ring up a jar of Vaseline.  (Melodie betrays her age, here.  These days, people use K-Y Jelly for intimate purposes.)

In any case, she marched back in, rode the escalator while clutching her little jar of symbolic outrage, strode over to the booth, uncapped her Vaseline and plunked it down on the table.  “You guys keep this jar open on this table,” she loudly exclaimed.  “Anyone who wants one of your toy wind turbines will want to dip it in this jar and proceed to the washroom and—shove it!  ‘Cause that’s what’s really going on!”