A Marxist Werewolf In Madrid

Walking in Madrid in the middle of the pouring rain...

... I was walking in Madrid in the middle of the pouring rain...

... wearing the coat of a werewolf in the middle of the pouring rain...

... The Senorita in red asked me, "Are you a Christian, child?"...

and I answered, "Marxist-Leninist."

Magog Rhys Petley was beginning to feel that he was the central character in a badly written parody of a Marc Cohn hit song.

The far leftist Labour Member of Parliament from Wales had been battling an acute outbreak of lycanthropy ever since he got bitten by the ancient Hindu demon Rahu several months ago.

Part of the curse was that he did not turn into a werewolf only during the full moon but also whenever he was deeply aroused by something.

And lately the agitation of rioters in Britain the past couple of weeks had been turning him into a werewolf.

Now Scotland Yard was under the impression that he was responsible for organizing the riots.

So Magog decided to leave the country for a while until the heat died down.

Coming to Spain may not have been the brightest idea in the world.

All of these beautiful young Spanish senoritas were getting him sexually aroused.

Not to mention the streets of Madrid were crowded because of Papal World Youth Day celebrations.

And now here in Madrid as he stood in the middle of the pouring rain, thunder and lightning flashed all around him.

Water and several hundreds of thousands of volts of electricity was probably not a good combination Magog figured.

But it still might put an end to his werewolf's curse.

Magog drank his buttermilk.

He had discovered that drinking buttermilk seemed to serve as an antidote to his outbreaks of Rahu-bite induced lycanthropy.

The beautiful young Senorita in red had asked him if he was a Christian.

No doubt because of all the visitors here to the Papal World Youth Day.

She walked down the streets in her red dress which fit even more tightly around her lovely figure because of the wetness caused by the rain.

As the glass of buttermilk had been emptied and she continued to swish elegantly down the streets in her spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes, Magog felt himself getting aroused.

As he turned hairy and started crawling around on all fours, the woman in red turned around and faced him without fear, "To remove the curse, seek the help of the Key."

She then turned and vanished down a Madrid alleyway.

"A key?" Magog thought to himself as he started to howl.

Where was he going to find a key in this tumultuous weather?

What did she mean by the Key?

Thunder and lightning flashed all around him.

To be continued.