Thousands of anxious dinosaurs jostled for jawing position. Crawling atop larger dinosaurs for a better view, the smaller, rabid, reptilian creatures licked their lips. Rabid fans, that is. Only a few actually had rabies. Foaming at the mouth was rampant however, as dinosaurs young and old held their jowls ajar, drooling with anticipation at the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir’s latest search for Trumpassic Truth. Or, as the more bloodthirsty locals called it, War of the Words. It beat devouring each other.
Today’s main event featured a who’s who among the Mediacircustops in a tag-team match-up between the conspiracy theorists and the mainstream media. It would be the Deep State Schemers vs. the Main Street Morals. A fleet of the Tyrumposaurus’ Trollertweeties flew overhead, flapping wings and beaks, announcing their verdict prematurely.
“SQUAWK! Fake News! Schemers Win! Rigged System! SQUAWK!”
Representing the conspiracy theorists were the Seanhannity and the Jeaninepirro. The Seanhannity was a ham-handed Sauropod dinosaur unambiguously referred to as the Sour Palooka. The Jeaninepirro was a Troodontid, dino-speak for a truly dented Theropod. With her telltale enlarged claw on her short second toe, she was the queen of the Weiss Crack Bedrock with her deep throaty threat of, “Cuff’em. Claw’em. Kill’em.”
The Main Street Morals were represented by the darting mouth, ivy-tongued Jaketapper, a fine, upstanding triple-O threat. That is, an Omniscient Ornithopod Omnivore able to chew up and spit out both plants and animals. Beside him was the Andersoncooper, an egg-headed Keensaurid, Sub Family of the Vanderbiltgloria.
The stage was set. The dino announcer, the Bufferator, stepped between the four verbal combatants.
“Are you ready to MUMBLE!?”
The Deep State Schemer fans leaned forward. This was jargon they knew. The Jeaninepirro flexed her small wings and stepped into the fray.
“The T-Rump says the Langleytips are in tatters!”
“He’s already fired the Comeyonus,” said the Jaketapper. “If he fires the Muellersavus that’s obstruction of justice not once, but twice.”
“Cuff him. Claw him. Kill him.” She looked like she meant it.
“Excuse me, Jeanine” said the Andersoncooper. “You’re moving very fast through the judicial process here. Kind of like you speeding down the Herbivore Hybrid Way last month. I believe that was a 65 steps per minute zone. Exactly how fast were you going?”
She glared at him, her feathers fully ruffled.
“One hundred and nineteen,” her little body growled.
“A friggin’ roadrunner. And you were in a hurry because … I mean, you were a judge, right?”
“I don’t have to answer to you. I’m not on trial here.”
“You have to answer to some higher power,” said the Jaketapper. “The law perhaps? Innocent until proven guilty. But Seanhannity, isn’t there a shred of truth when 14 female dinos allege sexual abuse against the T-Rump? This movement, you know, is gaining momentum.”
The Seanhannity shook his head.
“Heck, the Kingdavidsaurus had 500 concubines.”
The Andersoncooper eyed him carefully.
“You’re not really a journalist, are you?”
“Never said I was. I’m just in it for the crowd size. And say, wasn’t the crowd at the T-Rump’s inauguration bigger than for the Obamarus?
“No,” said the Jaketapper, “but overestimating power is the sign of a tyrant.”
“You mean like the Crookadillary … or the Obamarus,” said the Seanhannity, puffing out his chest. “We’re still not sure where he was born.”
“Yes we are,” said Jaketapper, “right here in the good ol’ Milkanhoney Preservation. That’s not fake news. It’s ancient. How about some news from today. Real news.”
He eyed the Jeaninepirro.
“Don’t look at me,” she said. “I’m not in the news.”
“Oh, but you are. Again. You claimed the Mckessonderay dino directed others at a Gayblackinus dinosaur rally to injure a security dino, this coming after the judge had already dismissed the case.”
“That’s free speech.”
“No, that’s called defamation of a dinosaur’s character, which is why the Mckessonderay is suing you and your Foxsquawkbox friends.”
The Seanhannity stepped forward, looking to swing momentum back the Deep State’s way.
“I speak with the T-Rump all the time.”
“To pat him on the back … or ask him tough questions the public wants to know?” asked the Andersoncooper. “Why does the T-Rump play nice with the Putinondon instead of putting in the moolah-moolah leaf sanctions against the Moscovian Bluffs he signed into law more than four months ago?
The Jeaninepirro hopped about, beak swinging to and fro.
“Are you questioning the T-Rump?!”
“That’s my job. To keep the dinosaurs informed.”
“How dare you,” she squawked. “Fake news! Cuff’im! Claw’im! Kill’im!”
“Who are you talking to?” asked the Andersoncooper.
“Our D.W. Base,” said the Seanhannity.
“D.W.?”
The Seanhannity and Jeaninepirro shared a look of guilt. Had he spilled the beans? The Jaketapper mulled it over.
“D.W. … Could that be Dog Whistle?”
Embarrassed looks from the Deep State Schemers confirmed it.
“Oh, sure,” said the Seanhannity, “the Judgeroymoore may have lost the Sin Hut Chamber Pothole seat with the good Bamahama dinos of Crimson Creek, because dinos there preferred a Donkeykongrus dinosaur to an alleged child molester — if you can wrap your head around that one. But let’s not talk about that when there are big, juicy conspiracy theories everywhere you look.”
“The Uranium One Deposits!” squawked the Jeaninepirro.
“The mysterious death of the Sethrichstaffer,” piped in the Seanhannity.
“Collusion? What collusion?” they said together.
“Stop, just stop,” the Jaketapper said, holding up one short arm. “The echoes of your deflections are deafening. You two and your 33% following scheme to blame others while those with Main Street Morals do the right thing. They throw tribalism aside, they verify the sources and simply connect the dots.”
The two Deep State Schemers stood there in a stupor. Turning to the Jaketapper, the Andersoncooper finally broke the silence.
“They’re looking for a shiny object.” He scanned the ground nearby, ultimately spotting a medium-sized gypsum rock glinting in the sun. “I wonder what’s underneath that?”
The Seanhannity and the Jeaninepirro stole a look at each other and raced pell-mell for the rock.
“CONSPIRACY!”
David Belisle 