T-Rump and the Kaepernickelback …

“Luther, you are a L-O-O-O-O-O-S-E-R.”

The Tyrumposaurus peered into Looking Glass Lake, practicing the introduction to his upcoming speech. The Marinegunkelly stepped up beside him.

“T-Rump, it’s time.”

“Great, I can’t wait.”

The two dinosaurs scurried off to Ex-Pred Field. It was a gathering place where the younger dinosaurs chased tiny Pigskineons around while the adult dinos basked in the autumn sun.

Dinosaurs assembled, they stood at attention and hummed the Flight of the Trollertweety, the national anthem of the Trumpassic Period. It spoke of the legend where a Trollertweety was flying with a stolen dinosaur egg high over the Milkanhoney Preservation when it collided with another Trollertweety carrying similar hot cargo. The two birds watched in horror as their eggs plummeted to the ground below, cracked open, and 15 years later — Dino Bob’s your uncle — the Trumpassic Period was born.

The Flight of the Trollertweety was a very solemn event for the dinosaur faithful of the entire Milkanhoney Preservation. Hummed every Sunday morning during the 16-week Martharaptor mating season, it sounded remarkably similar to the William Tell Overture.

The humming had only just begun when the T-Rump called for silence. The crowd gasped. This interruption had never happened before during the Flight of the Trollertweety. The T-Rump pointed across the field. All eyes turned to the source of the disturbance.

It was the Kaepernickelback, a genus of the hard-shelled Narciss-Egocentrian Sauropod from the Shaddup Province of Woebegonia. The Kaepernickelback was lying on its back.

“Stand up like a real dinosaur,” demanded the T-Rump.

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up?”

“A likely story.”

“Okay, okay. Look, I’m only protesting the plight of the Gayblackinus and the Leftwing Narrativus.”

“This is not the time and place. We have Martharaptor mothers to honor. Were you not born?”

The Kaepernickelback looked longingly at the little dinos chasing the Pigskineons but stood his ground.

“I’m putting an end to this right now,” said the T-Rump. “Here’s my one-time offer. I will assign you one of my special Trollertweeties. He will fly with your message every 15 minutes across the land — outside of the two minutes we pay respect to the Flight of the Trollertweety. Is that clear?”

“You’ll do that for me?” said the astonished Kaepernickelback.

“Indeed I will. There’s only one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Before we begin your Trollertweety campaign, you need to kneel to me.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I will eat you.” The T-Rump eyed the rump of the Kaepernickelback and smacked his lips.

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“I’ll be a herbivore if you respect the Flight of the Trollertweety. Do we have a deal?”


The two dinos touched tails and Trumpassic trauma was stayed yet again, a patchwork of peace born of broken egg shell pieces. Dinosaurs could hum once more in the Milkanhoney Preservation.

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