Satire The Trump Dig

The T-Rump Who Cried Fake News …

The Tyrumposaurus was snoozing peacefully, dreaming of one day being as wise or just having as many teeth as the Putinodon. …

The Tyrumposaurus was snoozing peacefully, dreaming of one day being as wise or just having as many teeth as the Putinodon. The Mediacircustops leaned in close, peering over him, listening to his every snore. The odd “covfefe” escaped. On the third one, the T-Rump snorted awake.

“T-Rump,” asked one Mediacircustops. “What do you have to say about the Kushneratops and Tyvankanatrix not speaking out against the attack of the Altrightraptors at the Charlottesville Divide?

“Fake news! Fake news!” cried the T-Rump. “Now, go. Take a note from Bright Bart.” He rose to his haunches and plodded off through the dubya bushes. He’d go stump in lands he was welcomed in, like the Rustbelt Reach. Stumping was a territorial trait of parking one’s butt in the shade.

The Mediacircustops soon tracked him down. They brought company. The T-Rump shook his head. The next time he was in the Fifth Estate Egg Fields, he was going to step on every one of them.

“T-Rump,” said another Mediacircustops. “Meet the Pennsylvaneus, the Michigannis and the Wisconsinax. They have something they would like to say.”

An eclectic trio of Bluecollaraptors stepped forward. The Pennsylvaneus spoke first.

“I am 63% embarrassed at your conduct.”

The Michigannis was next.

“I am 64% embarrassed at your conduct,” he said a little louder.

“Put me down for 64% too,” said the Wisconsinax. He smacked his lips for emphasis. The T-Rump frowned at their fickle, frothing mouths.

“What do you say to that, T-Rump?” asked the Mediacircustops.

“Fake news! Fake news!” The T-Rump harrumphed and left in a huff.

Half an hour later he strolled down the Bonnietyler-Eclipse Path. He noticed the sky was getting darker. He was about to look at the sun but remembered even he could not look at the sun. He frowned as he considered the injustice. He realized not having the sun could be worse. He would be just another dinosaur.

So, looking into the sun would probably hurt his eyes. It would definitely hurt the eyes of the dinosaur beside him. Wait a minute. Had he just shown a tiny, infinitesimal amount of empathy? This was news.

Where were the Mediacircustops when you needed them?

He scampered off frantically in search of them. They were not at 4 Waterships Down. Nor at the Phoenix Drop-Off. He finally found them at the Afghani-Bafflegab Dry Run.

“Look,” the T-Rump roared, “I have empathy! Empathy of which the world has never seen!”

But the Mediacircustops weren’t listening. They returned instead to watching the grass grow and the mud dry, humming along to the total eclipse of the sun.

By David Belisle

I'm a novelist and screenwriter in search of the Great Guffaw. It's kind of like getting hit with a bucket of Gatorade. It's a good time that sticks with you.

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