The Tyrumposaurus stepped to the waist-high, makeshift Bullee-Tar Pit. He looked over the multitude of Mediacircustops before him at the exclusive Flogging Grounds at Mar-a-Guano. He would’ve liked to have got another round in today, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to boast just one more time about his one lone-but-stunning achievement. Apart, that is, from moving the Neilgorsuch to the esteemed Dino-Judge neighborhood and into a small two-storey brownstone on Supreme Court. No, the T-Rump was here to crow about his brand new Grandoldparty’s massive mytaxes returnis plan which would change the lives of every dinosaur in the Milkanhoney Preservation.
The mytaxes returnis was the green layer of skin every dinosaur — except the T-Rump of course — shed each spring. It was a painful yet necessary process. While the moolah-moolah leaves were the true currency of the land, this extra green skin was a status symbol of sorts, marking one’s place in the dinosaur hierarchy. The more mytaxes returnis they could line their nest with, the better. After all, it was their skin.
“Welcome,” the T-Rump said, puffing out his chest. “I want to begin by saying that, while the loss of your mytaxes returnis has down through history appeared to be a natural biological process, I’m here today to blame it on the Obamarus and the Crookadillary. Just saying … Fortunately, while you may think of it as the skin off your back, let me assure you, I’m not making any moolah-moolah from the skin off your back. No. Never. No way.”
“T-Rump!” shouted the nearest Mediacircustops. “What does your new plan do for the average dinosaur family of four?”
Off to the side, the Marinegunkelly could be seen cringing, hiding his face in his claws.
“I’ll tell you what it means,” said the T-Rump. “This is the largest one-time reduction in the mytaxes returnis rate for the Really Big Dinosaurs, from 35 percent down to 21 percent. We need to get on the right side of nature. Call it our inherent right — as the biggest dinos in the neighborhood. We will provide for you. Trust me. Oh, if I could only tell you the pain we have suffered to get where we are today. I’ve only flogged 100 times in 300 days so far. Can you stand it?”
“You smaller dinos, fear not. For most of you, it will just be a small cut for the next eight years. Then you’re pretty much on your own. But why worry about then? I’m here now.”
“I know we hurried through some last minute changes on this. It came to our attention that the Really Big Dinosaurs needed more, but I can happily say to the Middleclass dinos, if you’re still educating your walnut as you lay in a broken heap at the bottom of Loophole, the sinkhole of all sinkholes, you can get a little mytaxes returnis back. Just a little, mind you. Let’s not get crazy.”
“And just last Friday, I met with the small hands dino, the Marcorubio, and we agreed to change the child dino credit. So, to relieve stress, we’ll be moving one child from each family of four to a dino family with no kids. It’s basically one less mouth to feed. Why didn’t we think of this before? It’s a fantastic idea. Simply wonderful for the Workingclass dinos.”
“T-Rump!” came a shout from the Mediacircustops. “Does this plan benefit you or not?”
“I know I’ve said countless times that this new mytaxes returnis does not help me. But, at the end of the day, when you’ve lied over 1600 times, I ask you … what is one more? Insignificant. Infini-TIZZ-mal. Really, it is. Anything else you hear is FAKE NEWS.”
“T-Rump! What about the moolah-moolah leaves? What about the bottom line?”
“Yes, we will owe another one trillion moolah-moolah leaves, but that’s why I have my best dinos on this. Moolah-moolah trees are very, VERY scarce these days, so if you see one, let them know. This will of course be on you.”
“Just a reminder, but those of you who want to deduct 10,000 moolah-moolah leaves, the rampaging Propertyvalue predators could fall right into your dwelling. A scary thought. But now you know. You’ve been warned.”
“I know I said the average dino family would save 2,000 moolah-moolah leaves, but that really depends on what kind of situation you’re in … as far as saving my skin in next year’s battle with the Donkeykongrus.”
“But what about the individual mandate?”
“To always eat slower-running species?”
“No, for the mytaxes returnis.”
“Oh. Well, you won’t have to worry about giving any more moolah-moolah leaves if you don’t fall off a cliff or get caught in a stegosaurus stampede. But for some of you, 13 million to be exact, that won’t matter. You’re just going to be extinct before the rest of us, that’s all.”
“Speaking of the dead, we were going to waive the mytaxes returnis on any moolah-moolah leaves left by a deceased dinosaur … but the Really Big Dinosaurs, they’re so gracious, they decided to give a tiny, little strip of their green skin back. But we doubled the threshold, which means a Really Big Dinosaur couple won’t have to pay back any green skin unless they have more than 22 million moolah-moolah leaves.”
He looked at the stunned audience.
“What, you don’t have 22 million moolah-moolah? … I do. But it’s good to see the Really Big Dinosaurs paying their fair share.”
“So,” ventured another Mediacircustops, “your new plan basically makes the Middleclass dinosaur a Secondclass dinosaur.”
“For eight years. Call it a little gain for future pain. I’m only here for eight years so I had to … I mean, we have to make the most of it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I can squeeze in another game of flog, while I’m working of course.”