A visit to the President

Εverybody thinks that a visit to the President of Democracy is a boring formal event with rigid protocol and fake politeness for the sake of photographers.
Far from it.
First of all,there was a certain amount of pleasure paramount to sexual enjoyment at the sight of a frightened president who suddenly found himself facing 50 political cartoonists from every corner of the earth.If you want to know how that feels, just dress yourself as a duck and go visit the Rifle Association.
After that, things went smoother.The President, still dressed in his pajamas (anyone can attest that the
Cartoonists are an Early Morning crowd) shared dirty jokes with the women and cooking recipes with the men (or was it the other way around?Yes, come to think of it I believe he shared men with the cooking recipe's-or something ).
When the intruding cameras left, he presented that special home made wine he distills himself down in the Presidental Cellars, and ordered the live chicken we brought as a goodwill gesture to be prepared for either roasting or sexual amusement, depending on one's personal tastes.
After that, everything became a haze of half remembered images.At some point five of us went to write the phone numbers of those not present on the walls of the Presidential W.C. Someone else had gotten really cozy with the First Lady in the room where we left our coats.
Other highlights include the President dancing with his underwear on his head, the police ringing the bell because some neighbor complained about the noise, and someone's wife protesting loudly that cartoonists are known for their ability to complete everything in very little time-with the emphasis on "everything".
At some point, the President kindly asked for our permission to go upstairs and die because he had a little too much to drink.He asked us to "just switch off the lights when we leave", and "oh, if the President of Hlebonia or something showed up, just give him an unmolested chicken and give him a backrub-that always does the trick"-and off he went, just in time before he spilled his guts on the Presidential carpet.
Of course you 'll say that everything except the first two paragraphs are a complete fabrication from my part, but then again I have 50 witnesses to back me up.