Ever since it was announced that nuclear waste would be dumped at Nevada's Yucca Mountain (soon to be renamed "Enrico Fermi's Port-o-potty"), people have voiced concern over the terrifying possibility that a train carrying nuclear waste to the site could derail in a residential community. Recently, after watching a Democrat debate, I had a similar thought.

What if a train carrying the candidates to the debate derailed in a populated area and spilled them. Consider the following nightmare scenario:

A train fully loaded with Democrat presidential candidates, on their way to a debate at the University of Louisville, is rolling through Happy, Kentucky.

Happy, a small town of 1,900 hard working freedom-loving Americans, is going about its usual Tuesday afternoon business when a loud crash is heard. On the train, the synchronized whining is shattered as the train hits an obstacle on the tracks. The residents of Happy look toward the rails in horror as they see the train tip over, spilling its full cargo of liberal presidential candidates all over the banks of the tracks, and in many cases within several feet of suburban homes.

Howard Dean (D)

Al Sharpton (D)

Dick Gephardt (D)

John F. Kerry (D)

Joe Lieberman (D)

Happy's worst nightmare has become reality. The town is now a full-fledged constitutional disaster area. Those who saw the accident and have the means to escape do so. For many others, it's already too late.

Within minutes, a stiff breeze, bringing with it the scent of power and money, has carried The Spill hundreds of yards into town. In less than a half an hour The Spill has gone into several of the town's shops and noticed a distinct lack of minority-owned businesses. By the time the Federal Emergency Management Agency can be notified, The Spill has already begun protesting the low wages made by Fannie, a waitress at "Chuck's Eats" with three children and, apparently, no dental insurance.

Other spilled candidates have already made their way into the office of Happy's mayor, demanding an increase in the minimum wage so Fannie can afford dental work for her and her kids. The Spill then federalizes the mayor's office and increases the minimum wage. Then, The Spill raises taxes, and Fannie takes home less money than before. Fannie becomes depressed, so The Spill raises taxes on "Chuck's Eats" to pay for Fannie's psychologist and "free" prescription drugs. "Chuck's Eats" goes out of business. Fannie is out of work, but thanks to The Spill, not out of Zoloft. Mercilessly, The Spill moves on.

By the time FEMA arrives, The Spill has spread a good mile inside city limits. Before there is time to evacuate the students at nearby Happy High School, The Spill has already made its way inside, begun abortion counseling, and changed the school's mascot from a hatchet wielding Indian, to "Hacky, the coughing bear with a bad HMO."

There's no stopping it now. Spreading quickly, The Spill moves on to the courthouse, where it removes a plaque displaying the Ten Commandments and replaces it with a chart showing the fat content of Krispy Kreme doughnuts, which were sold at the shop across the street until being forced out of business after The Spill sued them and other "big doughnut" corporations for peddling an unhealthy product.

Within hours, The Spill has completely overtaken the town, forcing the residents to lock themselves in their homes after hearing that several convicted sex offenders and violent criminals were released from prison because police didn't read them their Miranda rights with a Kentucky drawl.

Taxes are raised to pay for the construction of several new homeless shelters. When The Spill is informed that Happy, Kentucky, doesn't have any homeless besides Fannie, The Spill doubles property taxes to create some so the shelters don't go to waste. The Spill has now, in its mind, established fiscal responsibility.

The Spill now sets its sights on self-esteem issues. Thinking that the name of "Happy" is insensitive to the unhappy, it is determined that the town should be renamed. This will be done by a committee to be appointed by a panel of round-table experts from an as-yet-to-be-announced coalition from a bureau of task forces.

Within a few weeks, The Spill leaves "the town to be renamed by a committee to be appointed by a panel of round-table experts from an as-yet-to-be-announced coalition from a bureau of task forces" a shell of its former self. The area is now a smoldering cesspool of drugs, corruption, poverty and gerrymandered districts.