Called To Egypt

British Prime Minister David Cameron was holding a meeting with Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg in his office.

"I just got a call from U.S. President Barack Obama," Cameron explained, "he wants to know if we have a member of our government available to go to Cairo and tell Hosni Mubarak in person that the time has come to step down."


"Maybe we can send over an MP," Clegg suggested, "and ask him to do so unofficially on behalf of the British government. An MP whose reputation we don't really care about going down the drain should the mission fail."

"An opposition Labour MP perhaps?" Cameron had a twinkle in his eye.

"Well of course we don't want to be accused of playing dirty politics," Clegg laughed, "possibly there's a Labour MP that Opposition Leader Ed Miliband wouldn't really care if the person lost his reputation or not should the mission fail."

"Magog Rhys Petley," both men said simultaneously.

"Yes," Cameron nodded, "we certainly saved the British Labour Party a lot of embarrassment by covering up the fact that Rhys Petley participated in one of Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi's orgies with nubile 17-year-old girls."

"Yes, the orgy at which the British tabloid press claimed that a werewolf was present," Clegg smiled.

"Even though it was a noon time orgy and there was no full moon," Cameron laughed.

"I'll phone Mr. Miliband and ask him if it's okay that we send Rhys Petley over to Egypt as the government's unofficial spokesman telling Mubarak he better step down," Clegg stated.


* * *

The well known Marxist and far-Left Welsh Labour Party MP Magog Rhys Petley was having caviar and champagne in an upper end West London restaurant.

"You know I do have to say, Karl," Rhys Petley spoke to a wallet-sized photo of Karl Marx that he kept in his wallet and had put on the table for company, "that the bourgeoisie and the upper classes do know how to live."

The image of Karl Marx in the photo remained solemn and silent.

"Magog Rhys Petley," a voice greeted him.

The voice spoke in a soft feminine and exquisitely seductive Louisiana accent.

"Angelique Dumont," Rhys Petley stood and bowed to the well known New Orleans classically trained singer who now starred in many West End London musical productions.

"I noticed that you were at my show earlier this evening," Angelique smiled.

"I always enjoy your portrayal of Christine Daae in Llyod Webber's Phantom,"
Rhys Petley smiled.

"The intermission bartender said you were drinking several glasses of buttermilk which I believe is not your usual libation," Angelique laughed.

"I noticed the past week that drinking buttermilk seems to serve as an antidote to a certain affliction that I have," Rhys Petley explained.

"Really?" Angelique smoothed her dress and then sat down beside him, "and what affliction would that be?".

"A triple glass of buttermilk for me and champagne for the lady," Rhys Petley motioned to the waiter but ignored Angelique's question.

"More buttermilk?" Angelique crossed her legs.

"Yes," said Rhys Petley and he added to himself, "I hope it gets here soon."

"So how are things in the House of Commons?" Anqelique asked.

"Same old, same old," Rhys Petley answered, "I notice your usual dinner escort is not with you tonight."

"Amadeus Emanon?" Anqelique replied, "no he's over in America."

"What's he doing over there?" Rhys Petley inquired.

"On some sort of mission for his boss," Angelique shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, that strange and elusive billionaire Set," Rhys Petley nodded, "all sorts of strange rumours about him. Some people claim that he's a vampire."

Angelique Dumont had to laugh, "So tell me Magog, do you believe in vampires and vampiresses?".

"No, they go against my Marxist beliefs," Rhys Petley stated.

Angelique smiled at him with what seemed to him to be long protruding fangs from her upper teeth, "And these... " she pointed to the caviar and champagne, "these don't go against your Marxist beliefs?".

"No as long as it's champagne and caviar for all," Rhys Petley wiped his brow with his handkerchief.

"And what about werewolves?" Angelique asked, "do you believe in werewolves? Since the British tabloid press seems to be full of rumours about werewolves these days?".

Rhys Petley shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

He felt relieved when the buttermilk arrived.

After downing the buttermilk, he went and sat in Angelique's lap.

"My word, my dear Rhys Petley," Angelique purred, "you're feeling amorous tonight."

* * *

Magog Rhys Petley spent an enjoyable evening with Angelique Dumont.

No signs of the lycanthropy overtaking him either.

When he arrived home at his apartment, he finally got around to answering his cell phone which he had switched off while in Angelique's company.

There were dozens of voice mail and text messages waiting for him requesting that he go to Egypt on behalf of the British government.


To be continued.