Welsh Werewolf At The Inaugural Ball

Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley was feeling a teency weency bit embarrassed.

He had been one of a select group of people invited to watch the small private inauguration ceremony of Barack Obama yesterday in the Blue Room of the White House.

Instead while strolling across the White House lawn, he had suddenly turned into a werewolf beyond his control and had spent the whole time (while the ceremony was taking place) yelping and snarling and baying at the moon (which was actually an ardent Republican supporter showing his naked back side outside the White House fence).

He had finally sniffed his way to the White House kitchen where he opened the refrigerator and drank gallons of buttermilk.

There was something in buttermilk which acted as an antidote to the peculiar kind of werewolf gene he now had in his DNA.

Now here he was tonight at one of the official Inaugural balls watching President and Mrs. Obama as well as Jay-Z and Beyonce dance and he could feel that he was about to turn into a werewolf again.

The Marxist lycanthrope prayed to the non-existent God of the workers' opiate religion that buttermilk would be available up at the cocktail bar.

Sure enough it was and he said a quick thank you to the non-existent (in his mind) Deity above.

He drank 12 glasses of buttermilk and when he had finished, he strolled around the dance floor when he caught a glimpse of a breathtakingly beautiful woman wearing the most exquisite lavender evening dress.

He instantly recognized her as Lepardia Marango the cultural attache at the South African Embassy in London.

The last time he saw her was two weeks ago at a live performance of Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera in a West End London theatre.

"Lepardia," the British MP greeted her, "what are you doing here?."

"Well, I just flew in this past Saturday night," Lepardia smiled, "I was officially invited to this Inaugural ball by President Obama himself. Back in 2006, when I was a Grad student at the University of Johannesburg, I had written a letter to the then junior Senator from Illinois telling him that I thought he was a wonderful inspirational individual and that he should really run for President in 2008. He remembered the letter I wrote him apparently and that's why I was invited."

"Delighted you're here," Magog smiled, "would you care to dance?."

"Sure," Lepardia smiled, "only I'm going to get myself a drink first and then we'll dance, okay?".

"That's fine by me," Rhys Petley nodded.

"Hm, she's African eh?" thought conspiracy theorist Alex Jones who had overheard the conversation.

Alex Jones had found that it was as easy for him to sneak into an official Inaugural Ball as it was for him to sneak into a giant owl worshipping ceremony in San Francisco's Bohemian Grove.

"I wonder if being African, she knows where Barack Obama's Kenyan birth certificate is located," Jones bit his lip.

Just then Magog Rhys Petley got a call on his iPhone.

It was from his parliamentary Executive Assistant Gareth Jones (no relation to Alex).

"What's up, Gareth?" Rhys Petley inquired.

"Just want you to know that the Cameron government is involved in a cover-up," was Gareth Jones' answer.

"So what else is new?" Magog Rhys Petley shook his head, "what's it over this time?".

"Those leopard attacks at the London Zoo this past Thursday," Gareth replied, "remember the young zoo employee whose first day it was on the job got fired for leaving the leopard cage door open?  Well, it turns out that the leopard that was in that cage never ever left its cage. It was too old and feeble to do so. It was another leopard that was responsible for those attacks and the government has absolutely no idea where that leopard came from."

"That is strange," Magog Rhys Petley reflected, "Let me get back to you on that."

He walked over to Lepardia at the cocktail bar.

He happened to notice she had half a dozen glasses of buttermilk on her tray which she was drinking frantically.

Rhys Petley suddenly recalled that he had seen her drinking loads of buttermilk at The Phantom of the Opera performance as well.

What ailment did she have that she drank so much buttermilk like he did?

Lepardia smiled at him.

And as Lepardia smiled in her lavender evening dress in Washington DC, the British government continued its Zoo cover-up in London.

To be continued.