*Walking up to the mound*
Nick:  Sorry Phelony, but you're not looking too good.  I think it's time to let someone else finish up this game so you can rest.
Phelony:  No coach!  I can finish the game... really.  I got a couple more good throws in me.
Nick:  I've already got a call into the bullpen.
Phelony:  What bullpen?
Nick:  You know, the pen... with the... ummm... bulls.  You know what I mean!  The place where all the other hosts are waiting patiently for their chance to shine!
Phelony:  Other hosts?
Nick:  Damn.  I forgot.  Oh just give me the stupid ball.

First up to bat is Tracy Coenen who is swinging away at commuter rail in Milwaukee.  She's making good contact with the ball, and hits a grounder between 1st and 2nd base with some excellent questions to those who are deciding to spend the money.

Next up is Steve Egg who taps the sales tax dirt off his shoes and hits a long ball right out of the park.  Don't forget the extra sales tax you pay for me to play in Miller Park too.

Things weren't looking good for our venerable pitcher until Peter came along with a recipe for Moonbat Flambe and hit two foul, and struck out on the third pitch.

That's when Fred came up to the plate, staring me down with his stark numbers on hurricane season this year.  His hit came whirling by my head, but luckily I was able to duck away just in time.  Why don't pitchers where helmets?

That left the door open for Kate to come along and hit another one out of the park, so she could celebrate how some books won't be banned in Fon du Lac as she rounded the bases.

That's when Sean came up to bat, with his brand new slugger, and a chip on his shoulder about taxes the size of a Greyhound bus.  He hit that ball right to the warning track where it fell in for a double.

When Wiggy came up the plate, I didn't think much, but he surprised me with a strong single that advanced Sean to third, and a friendly reminder of the new Ronald Reagan Elementary School in New Berlin.

The Patrick came up, and the loud speakers blared with news of a recall on the Alderman formerly known as Michael McGee.  His single loaded the bases.

That's when Aaron, the big hitter came up, and knocked a grand slam out of the park for Scott Walker.  Things weren't looking good for our intrepid pitcher.

So when Jenna stepped up to the plate, I laughed.  "Easy out!" I taunted.  That's when she sent one whizzing by my head powered by anger against John McCain, and lack of a good Republican Presidential candidate.

And then depression set it because the order swung back around with Tracy, hitting another home run on the proposed Wisconsin sales tax increase.

The coach turned pitcher looked to the dugout... begging... pleading... isn't there anyone left in the bullpen to relieve me?