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In commemoration of this censorship [1].
Narrator: As I walk into the dark dirty room, barely lit by a single swinging incandescent bulb with an odd yellow tinge, Jimbo is sitting alone in a rickety wooden chair, slowly smoking a cigarette with a haggard fedora adorning his head. I try to remember how I got myself in this predicament. Well, maybe not a predicament, but a situation I do not want to be in now. It all started with a dream. A dream to be an [[WP:ADMIN|administrator] at the encyclopedia anyone can edit. Wikipedia. I never knew the price I would pay until now. Jimbo nods his head up slightly and looks at me.
Jimbo: "So… I hear you want to be an admin"
Narrator: "Y-y-yes Mr. Wales" I stammer, failing to stifle my fright.
Jimbo (laughing and shaking his head): "Well, what makes you think you're worthy of being an administrator?"
Narrator: Still trying not to sound fearful: "W-w-well, I have over 10,000 mainspace edits. I have participated in hundreds of RFAs and AFDs and have actively participated in the ANI message board for a year and a half. Also, if you look at my work on"
Jimbo (rudely cutting me off): "That's enough. You want adminship?"
Narrator: "Y-y-yes mister" I awkwardly mutter.
Jimbo: "Then let's ride."
Narrator: I hesitantly climb into Jimbo's 1972 Cadillac. With a rusted purple exterior, torn leather interior and fuzzy dice which smell distinctively like gorgonzola cheese that is a few years beyond its expiry date, this pimpmobile would no longer pick up any but perhaps a 50 year old Russian prostitute strung out on Krokodil. Why did I agree to go along? And where are we going?
Jimbo: "Wikimedia's fallen on hard times. Admins cost us bandwidth with their special tools and frequent editing. And with the recession, we're not getting the sponsors we used to."
Narrator: I am now terrified. It is not what Jimbo said, but his delivery. Clearly he has an agenda and I don't know what it is. "Wow" I said. "I never knew".
Jimbo: "No one does. It is not something we advertise on the main page or when looking for donors. It makes us look amateur. We had to move Wikimedia headquarters out here."
Narrator: We pulled up by a weathered shack at the end of a dusty road. Is this Wikimedia headquarters? It can't be. I am not beyond terrified, but defiantly muster out: "Jimbo, I changed my mind. I no longer want adminship. Please take me back." Jimbo has a sinister smile on his face now. He laughs and tosses his cigarette out, extinguishing it with his cracked leather boots.
Jimbo: "Changed your mind huh? That OK. Adminship isn't for every one". I am temporary relieved. "but no one rides for free:.
Narrator: "Jimbo, I didn't bring money. I spent all of it coming out to meet you before we left."
Jimbo: "No one rides for free… It's gas, grass, ..."
Narrator: The next second seemed like an eternity.
Jimbo: "or ASS! Get over those wheels NOW!"
Narrator: "No Jimbo!" I scream. "Not the wheels!" but it was too late. I had been turned out. I was now a punk to be passed around and traded for Checkuser access and bragging rights.