"In fact, there is a a very distinct possibility that Ms Palin will never speak to the press at all," continued Davis. "I'll bet that would grill your cheese, wouldn't it? She's not scared to answer your questions, but you know what? Your questions are stupid."
The press shifted uneasily on it's feet, unsure what it had done to deserve this sort of abuse. Frustrated but undeterred, it attempted a volley - surely the Governor would wish for a chance to communicate her worldview in a less structured and restrictive environment, wouldn't she?
"You might think so," spat Davis, "but you would be 100% wrong. We run her campaign, not the news media. You can't hear it, can you? The press never can. But she's speaking over your head. The people can hear her loud and clear. Sarah Palin is a human dog whistle."
The press looked down at it's shoes, unable to come up with a snappy response to such a well-crafted metaphor. What choice, it finally ventured, did it have but to remain in a stance based on rumor, innuendo, and the public record?
"Everyone knows that the public record is history, and history is bunk," laughed Davis. "Look, word to you piranhas, she will do interviews, but she'll do them on the terms and conditions the campaign decides, when the campaign decides, and if the campaign decides. Now, beat it."
Dispirited, the press slowly turned, walking towards the exit of the very small tent.
"And one more thing," shouted Davis, as the press faded into the sunset. "When the hell is Oprah going to have her on?"
©2008, Mark Hoback