Laying restlessly on her moderately over-firm prison cot in the wee, small hours of the morning, noble New York Times reporter Judith Miller awoke with a jolt. Unbidden, her mind suddenly filled with an unsought, unwanted epiphany: Why, that source she was in jail valiantly protecting -- he'd actually released her from her secrecy pledge months ago! She could finally leave prison!

But wait! Where could that thought have come from? Why hadn't it occurred to her before? It's almost as though it was placed -- or... projected -- into her mind by something. Or someONE!

In the dim shadows of her cell, Miller almost imagined she could hear a malevolent laugh. Like something she'd heard years before. Could it be...?

But no matter. Finally, she knew she would be free! That's all that mattered. Sure! All she had to do was testify before the Grand Jury and it would be all over.

With new hope, her face now bright and confident, the jaunty journalist leaped to her feet and ran her government-issue tin cup noisily back and forth across the jail cell bars to get the guard's attention.

"Yeah. What is it, Miller," the groggy guard demanded.

"I'm ready to sing!" responded the noisy news hound. "Why, I'll sing so loud -- !!"

"Sure, sure. And what are you gonna sing? Rigoletto? Ha ha ha ha!"

"Oh yeah?" said Miller smugly. "Well try this one on for size, Porky: Listen up, world! I learned about Valerie Plame from... from.. 'Scooter' Libby!!"

"'S-Scooter' Libby? The Vice-President's assistant???" sputterd the guard, his face drained of all color. " Y-you hang on right there, sister. I'll get the Warden!"

As the nervous guard skittered off into the night, the newswoman's voice echoed down the dank prison corridors: "Yeah! That's right! 'Scooter' Libby! And Karl Rove! Matthew Cooper!! Robert Novak -- he knows what's up!! Yeah, 'Scooter' Libby... Karl Rove.. and The Shadow! The Shadow!! THE SHADOW!!!"