Ming Admits To Having Fears

Stouthearted Ming fears no man given his command of the ancient martial arts in general and his laughably modest I.Q., in particular. But Ming does fear two things. Being trapped between floors in an elevator with an accordionist playing the Beer Barrel Polka and that the dunderheads at the FDA will myopically and maliciously thwart Impact at interim. They may still be committed to defending their delay of Provenge, if for no other reason than to vindicate that decision to salve their bloated egos and defend their sordid careers. That being said, surely something akin to a bowling trophy could be awarded them for acceding to approval. Perhaps they could be allowed to run a lap around the perimeter of the Fischer's Lane edifice and have their ample bureaucratic hinnies slapped, much as when a baseball player hits a grand slam home run. As a last resort, might not Mitch agree to give Andy a pony ride? This assumes Mitch's back hasn't given out stooping to get all those options and that Andy doesn't insist on ridding sidesaddle as once was appropriate for those bereft of any balls.