It was late afternoon at the Next Conservatism Forum, on the ground floor of an ancient Washington row house. The cause of the panel discussion was a horror that festered on the Hill. All the participents were terrified, and had cried out for the presence of a unit from the Free Congress Foundation's Center for Cultural Conservatism. It was the Terrible Time of the Democrats, and rumors warned against the preparation of loathsome legislation.
The horror was particular, for they knew the wrath of the Terrible Folk was upon Imus, and the participents were fearful. For many days and nights they heard the bloodcurdling din, until at last nameless doom was visited upon the hapless broadcaster.
They had at length proceeded to the Forum with their mace-bearers and ministers, having heard enough to be greatly distressed and agitated, and standing firmly against the shock jock's excision. Desiring to consult with one who knew the subject well, Dick Morris was summoned to press his counsel.
So there they were assembled in the burning sunset of the capitol - Ken Blackwell, William S. Lind, Cliff Kincaid, and a trembling throng of townfolk. As their hideous bleating rose to garish pitch, an icy wind of shocking susceptivity and slowness swept down from those horrific heights, chilling each participant among them. Dick Morris was floundering and screeching from the panel, as if possessed by Satanus and his sons, when suddenly he froze, pale as a sheet, and uttered those two petrifying words that still echo in their ears. "Fairness Doctrine." Aaaaaaiiiiieeeeeeee.....