Chris Wallace, the last journalist at Fox News, almost lost his life last night as he moderated the first presidential debate between Donald Trump and Joe Biden.

“It was a living hell,” Wallace told The Lint Screen after the ninety minutes of verbal abuse. “Congress needs to get emergency law and order funding before the next debate. My producer joked I needed a whip, chair, and elephant tranquilizer gun to maintain order. I punched him in the mouth and said, ‘Shut up, smartass, I could have been killed.’ Trump ran amuck, and I had no protection. There needs to be law and order to contain this ‘law and order president’. He’s out of control.”

The debate was rock ’em sock ’em political brawling. America has never seen such an outrageous abuse of presidential powers.

“The next debate moderator needs the National Guard for protection,” Wallace said, visibly shaken and taking a long swig from a 1.75-liter bottle of Grey Goose. “Or at least mace, tasers, and an AK-47. No moderator should have to suffer the abusive pain I did tonight.”

Wallace guzzles more Goose. “It’s ugly and dangerous out there. Trump called on the Proud Boys for Chrissake. That MF-er has an army of armed White Supremacist lunatics. This dangerous thug must be stopped before he breaks democracy and becomes a dictator.“

The son of legendary investigative journalist Mike Wallace broke down crying.

“I love this country,” he sobbed. “And the only demonstration of American exceptionalism shown by Trump is his being an exceptional horse’s ass and bully. The man is out of his head.”

Wallace pulls on his Gray Goose bottle like a newborn suckling his mother’s breast. He snorts a few rails of Peruvian snow.

“Trump actually thinks he’s done a good job on the pandemic,” Wallace says, shaking his head. “That tells you everything. The guy watches too damn much Tucker Carlson and Sean Hannity–– and he actually believes that bullshit. Unbelievable.”

The Fox News journalist swallows a fistful of pills, washes them down, and throws his empty Gray Goose bottle on the floor, shattering it.

“God help us all,” Wallace whimpered.

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