As a dignitary and all around important person, I am often invited to state functions throughout the world. I have to say while I have witnessed some very wild and embarrassing things at these affairs, I have never witnessed such a shameful display as the one I witnessed at the Bicentennial Celebration of Abraham Lincoln's Birthday, held in Washington D.C. on January 31, 2009.
The evening started typically to most events I have attended in this prudish nation- meaningless mingling amongst individuals of lower standing than myself, sipping substandard cocktails, and listening to speeches extolling the virtues of whatever individual we are celebrating at the time. During this tired old routine, and right before dinner, I happened to notice former first lady Eleanor Roosevelt enter the ball room. Shocking, I know, but don't believe those fools that tell you she died in '64. She was there, in the entryway, as alive as anyone (or at least more alive than that vampire, Cindy McCain).
It was apparent to me that she had already been drinking before coming to the party, but that didn't stop her from grabbing up the closest glass of champagne (though, to be honest, it was cheap California sparkling white wine) and chugging it like a pirate. At this point, I knew real excitement had finally reached this doldrums of a birthday party, so I made my way slowly across the ballroom so I could witness the fun in greater detail.
I followed Eleanor around the ballroom until it was time to be seated for dinner and an address from President Obama. I was lucky enough to land a seat at the same table as the first lady, watching greedily as she spiraled out of control, one glass of cheap wine right after the other.
While the speech itself was lacking in any substantial content about Lincoln and his contribution to this nation, it was nonetheless entertaining as Eleanor heckled the President loudly and frequently throughout the entire speech. At one point, she was almost removed by security, but her handlers intervened just in time and calmed her down enough to allow the President to finish his speech on schedule.
After dinner, there was to be a period of socializing and then dancing to finish off the night, but the party planners had not planned on Eleanor attending- or even being alive. Once Mr. Obama descended from the podium, Mrs. Roosevelt saw her chance and pounced upon the microphone- and rather quickly for someone as sloshed as she was, not to mention someone of her advanced age. She sprang up onto the table where we sat and began screaming at the top of her lungs.
"I have a secret! I have a secret! Mr. Abe Lincoln was… A… GAY!" At first everyone thought she was just speaking out of drunkenness and senility, but she continued to bellow. "The diary of Joshua Speed! The diary of JOSHUA.... SPEED!" she repeated emphatically, producing a careworn leather-bound journal from her bosom. "This state secret was a gift from my Frankie to keep me occupied whilst he was out selling people on his 'deal'," she explained. "It was filled with the most awful and lurid descriptions of Abe's dick I have ever read." She paused, and pointed a bony finger menacingly at a bust of Lincoln. "Your.... DICK!" she shrieked. "That's not all! These pages are full of gay smut the likes of which no one has ever even imagined before! Oh, Abe Lincoln... he was gay alright! Christ, if he hadn't been giving the theater attendant a blow job, he would have seen John's bullet before it shattered the back of his skull!"
Upon this revelation, everyone stared in disbelief and utter amazement at the inebriated first lady, as she whirled around, fell off the table, and collapsed in to the lap of Lady Bird Johnson, promptly vomiting onto the unsuspecting woman's three thousand dollar shoes before expiring. I couldn't help but think that this is why you don't wear exclusive designs to nonexclusive parties! Everyone was floored by the information- no, to be quite accurate, they were panicked! So panicked, in fact, that they began stampeding towards the doors without even a thought of continuing the evening's festivities.
Needless to say, I was intrigued by the entire event, so I sent my agents to investigate Mrs. Roosevelt's apartments before anyone was able to return and tamper with any evidence. Sadly, I came up empty handed. as my agents found upon their arrival that Eleanor's apartment had been burgled prior to their entrance. The only items appearing to have been stolen were some of her books, as evidenced by gaps in her bookshelves and the obvious haste through which they had been rummaged. I had my agents look for further clues regarding who may have stolen the book, but the trail went cold.
Whether the First Lady's accusations are true, and whether she did actually own a secret diary belonging to one Joshua Speed, I cannot say. But regardless, it certainly did make for an amazing night, one far more memorable than the bulk of those I have experienced in my times in our nation's capitol.
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