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They could almost feel the ropes on their necks. First they would feel the weight as the heavy hawsers settled on their shoulders, then the scratching of the bristles on their throats. They would start to lose air. Now it would be hard to breathe. And there would be a view of the reflecting pool they had never seen before, as they stood on the tall platform hastily erected on the lawn.
Then Dr. Ron No Such Candidate Paul would give the signal, the hangman would pull the lever, the platform would give way, and the former Member of Congress would fall, reflecting on his crimes in the instant before the weight of his bloated carcass paradoxically broke his neck. And he would dance again for the last time, in the air, this time without the protection of congressional immunity. Isn’t that what defrauded depositors traditionally do when they discover that the banker has squandered their funds?
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