Taking into account Mr. Morley’s rubicund features and ample girth, most participants assumed that the orator was seeking local assurance that he had "got hold of the good stuff". But no, by all accounts, the cetacean in question was a gift to Mr. Morley supplied by his friends in the Environmental Investigation Agency (two flights above the fish & chip shop, knock twice and ask for Keiko).

EIA had purchased the comestible in Nagasaki, while the package was labeled, "product of Greenland". Mr. Morley, outright victor in his kindergarten spelling bee (All Truants’, Class of ’99) jumped on the geographical disparity like a pack of hounds on a hunted fox. He demanded explanations of: Greenland, Denmark, Japan and a cleaning lady who had taken a wrong turn on her way to the dumpster. Had Interpol/FBI/CIA/MI6/Surete been dispatched to apprehend the offending Inuit? Would the offending nations – not to mention the guilty as hell cleaning lady – apologize at the bar of history?

Regrettably, as we go to press in a secret cellar on a unnamed side street, the final outcome of "The Adventure of Mysterious Whale Meat" has yet to be resolved. Tomorrow, Mr. Morley departs for the Grassy Knoll in Dallas accompanied by a crack EIA team ready to scour Texas 7-11’s in a fearless effort to uncover whether the scandal has even greater proportions.

We can only thank Mr. Morley for unearthing this crisis in a quiet year when the IWC had little business before it of greater import. Minor questions such as the promulgation of a decades delayed RMP, the illegal exclusion of Iceland from IWC membership and the callous disregard of impoverished St. Vincentian and Japanese whalers can easily be pushed aside when more important – and more pressworthy – matters fall into Mr. Morley’s hands.