Welsh Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley was asleep in his room in London.
The phone rang.
He picked up the receiver.
It was former Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi who had just resigned as Prime Minister of Italy hours earlier.
"Hello old friend," Berlusconi said, "just wanted you to know that I've resigned."
"Old friend?" Magog Rhys Petley was confused, "but we only met once. And you're a monopolistic capitalist businessman while I'm a former union leader not to mention an openly Marxist far-Left member of the British Labour Party."
"Yes but seeing as how we had such a fun time at that bunga-bunga party of mine which you attended earlier this year," Berlusconi laughed, "I now consider you an old friend despite our radical political differences."
Magog Rhys Petley's cheeks turned red when he thought of what he had done at that "bunga-bunga" party of Berlusconi's.
They talked for a while and then Berlusconi wished Rhys Petley a good night.
As Rhys Petley put the phone down, he thought he noticed a wolf's shadow appearing on the moonlit corner of his darkened bedroom.
Rhys Petley ran over to the mirror fearing that he was once again turning into a werewolf.
But he wasn't.
Rhys Petley breathed a sigh of relief.
* * *
Outside on the streets of London, that ancient Norse wolf Fenrir walked the streets and avenues casting a huge gigantic shadow as he walked.
For the drumbeats of Ragnarok were sounding.
To be continued.
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