Somewhere underground, in a cave filled with rats, three witches are convening. The witches—Rachel Moran, Meghan Murphy, and Lena Dunham—are frantic, distressed. They sense trouble. They’re panicking.

Murphy stirs the bubbling witches’ cauldron dutifully. Moran attempts to remain poised and she recites a dark incantation. Dunham merely observes, eager to absorb the methods of her seasoned sisters.

Murphy nods towards Moran, who unfurls an entire Sunday New York Times and angrily thrusts the paper into the cauldron.

“I have called this conclave because a serious problem is developing,” Murphy snarls. “Something has happened.” She glowers. “The narrative is…shifting.”