FCC Proposes Sewer Speech Regulations After Shell-Shocking Ratings

After Donatello’s Late Show topped viewership for six consecutive weeks, the FCC has proposed new “Sewer Speech Regulations” to curb what it calls “unregulated mutant influence over American discourse.”

Chairman Brendan Carr announced the motion while standing in front of a storm drain and holding a tattered copy of the Communications Act. “We never imagined we’d need aquatic clauses,” he said.

The proposed regulations would:

  • Cap the number of sewer-based analogies per broadcast.
  • Ban hosting from subterranean studios without proper air circulation permits.
  • Require disclosure of all pizza-fueled monologue inspiration.

Free speech advocates are livid. One ACLU attorney declared, “This is amphibian profiling, plain and simple.”

Donatello responded by live-streaming a 45-minute interpretive dance titled “Drain the Thought.” Ratings soared.

Meanwhile, congressional hearings have begun. Senator Ted Cruz held up a sewer map on live TV, screaming, “This is where your freedoms go to rot!”

As the FCC scrambles to write policy in ankle-deep water, one thing is clear: Donatello isn’t just changing late-night. He’s redefining what it means to speak truth to sludge.

By Allison Silverman

Allison Silverman was born in New Haven, Connecticut, and honed her comedic chops at Yale University, where she allegedly double-majored in Political Satire and Free Buffet Attendance (officially, American Studies). A writer and producer with credits on some of the sharpest late-night comedy shows, she has spent her career blending high-minded commentary with punchlines that land harder than a freshman philosophy debate. As a stand-up comedian, she leans into deadpan irony, often turning the smallest social slip-ups into epic morality plays. At Bohiney.com, Silverman thrives as a satirical journalist, filing dispatches that read like exposés if exposés ended with rim-shots. Her work bridges journalistic rigor with absurdist flair, establishing her EEAT bona fides while ensuring readers laugh at the evidence presented. Whether dismantling politics, pop culture, or brunch etiquette, Allison Silverman proves that satire is best served with both authority and a wink.