Werewolf

Werewolf

The huge King Werewolf stood at the window of his palace, looking up at the full moon. ‘What a clever fellow I was,’ he growled, ‘to hold that by-election at this time of the month. How my werewolves terrorised the opposition! What a brilliant strategist I am!’

‘But you lost,’ sneered his skinny wife, Queen Greyhound, as she scratched her ear with her hind leg.

‘I know that!’ he barked angrily. ‘But we nearly won! We were only a couple of hundred votes behind. If only we’d bitten off a few more fingers, there would have been fewer opposition votes in the ballot box.’

‘These villagers,’ sighed the Queen, ‘have very tough fingers.’

Just then their faithful spaniel, dressed in a smart white uniform with gold trim, came to the door and banged a little gong. ‘You Excellencies, supper is served in the banqueting room.’ The king sniffed the air and made a run for the T-bone steak.

‘Werewolf!’ squealed the queen, ‘go upstairs and get dressed! Suppose we have visitors, and they see you like that! All will be revealed!’

The queen was already seated at the long table when the king came back, nicely dressed in a suit and tie. ‘Not on all fours!’ snapped the queen angrily, ‘if Ha Ha sees you he’ll say Ha Ha! You know he already has his suspicions. Even if we’re alone, you must practice walking on two legs!’

‘It makes my knees ache terribly,’ whined King Werewolf, as he tottered precariously to the table, sat awkwardly on his chair, and then put his front paws on the table in order to attack the huge pile of T-Bone steaks. After a few minutes he had torn the flesh from all the bones, and washed down the feast with a large jug of red wine. Then he sat back in his chair and belched with satisfaction. ‘Send these bones to the humans in the kitchen,’ he commanded. ‘We must look after the lower classes.’

‘Yes dear,’ said his devoted wife. ‘You’re always so kind and generous, with such a great interest in human rights.’

As she spoke, the faithful spaniel came back. ‘Suspector General Fracas Kaboxer has arrived,’ he announced, as a confused boxer dog ambled into the room, tripped over the carpet, and fell onto the coffee table.

‘What do you want?’ growled the king.

‘Just came for the list of your enemies for tonight, Your Excellency,’ whined Kaboxer. ‘I’ve already got six empty cells waiting, and I’ve prepared the list of offences and the charge sheets. All I need now is the list of people to arrest.’

‘You idiot!’ growled His Excellency King Werewolf. ‘You’re the one that lost me the by-election! I sent you to Mufumbushi to arrest the opposition, but all you did was hide in your office, shake with fear and urinate all over the floor! Now you want to start arresting after the election is over! Get out! Get out!’ he screamed, as the hapless Kaboxer scurried out of the room.

‘Since your clever strategy for Mufumbushi has obviously misfired,’ sneered the queen, ‘how do you expect to win next year’s general election?’

‘Luckily,’ said the king, ‘my brain is not as small as Ha Ha imagines, and I am capable of learning from my mistakes. It is clear that two busloads of werewolves were not enough to subdue Mufumbushi. So obviously we don’t have enough werewolves to terrorise the whole country in a general election. I shall use a new strategy.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘Since werewolves are only a small elite, and only reveal ourselves during the full moon, I shall use ordinary dogs to terrorise the country during the next election.'

‘Where will you get them from?’

‘The Movement for Mad Dogs has already started a breeding programme. I should have at least a million ready for next year. With ten thousand vicious dogs terrorising each constituency, people will be too scared to go and vote. Only the dogs will vote.’

‘But dogs can’t vote!’

‘I’ve thought of everything. I’m changing the constitution. The National Canine Club, the NCC, will do anything I tell them.’

‘Excellent!’ laughed Queen Greyhound. ‘At last we shall have a government of dogs, by dogs, for dogs. But won’t the humans be annoyed?’

‘No,’ said the king. ‘With my huge brain I have thought it through. You see, it won’t be a government of dogs, it will be a government of werewolves. As the Chief Werewolf, I shall be perfectly placed to see the needs of both sides, and to bring together these previously warring factions, humans and dogs. I shall unite the nation!’

‘But what will the dogs be given? Will they be given employment?’

‘Of course,’ laughed the king. ‘Previously we have treated people like dogs, paid them like dogs, housed them like dogs, and they have died like dogs. So when we actually employ dogs, that will be more appropriate, and both sides will be happy.’

But suddenly King Werewolf stopped talking, raised his snout and sniffed the air. Then he was down on all fours, and off at the gallop, out of the palace. The queen turned to the little spaniel. ‘What’s happening? Where’s he gone?’

‘It’s part of the new breeding programme,’ said the spaniel. ‘That bitch has come round again.’