The Sh*thole Meeting …

It was the daily JABBER — Just Another Blow-Back Emergency Response — meeting in a side cave to the Oval Dwelling. The Hopehicksbagotrix, the Kellyannconvixway, the Stephenmillerus, the Jasonmillerus and the Marinegunkelly were all in attendance. The latest threat to toppling the T-Rump reign had come from his own mouth. During a migration route meeting with Grandoldparty and Donkeykongrus dinos, he’d referred to the Hayshun Nation and Africana regions as “sh*thole areas”. He preferred dinosaurs migrating from Morenorway.

“I can’t believe he said it,” said the Hopehicksbagotrix. “It’s not him.”

“C’mon, Hope,” said the Stephenmillerus. “Join the program. Sh*thole. Just say it.”

You are what you say, mused the Marinegunkelly, his right claw scratching his wrinkled chin.

“Leave her alone, Stephen,” said the Kellyannconvixway. “Look, it’s just another day, another meteorite explosion.” No one bothered asking why they were always at ground zero. “We need to just wrap our walnut brains around this, come up with a logical explanation to feed the Mediacircustops. We know it’s all about the Mediacircustops. That’s all the T-Rump cares about. Because tomorrow we’ll be right back here talking … maybe talking about the end of Why Kinky Beach. Who knows?”

The Marinegunkelly realized it was time to give this meeting a wide berth. The Kellyannconvixway reminded him of a low-lying lizard that had nipped his tail in the Persian-Gaff War and then denied it. He still remembered the lizard saying curtly, “No, I didn’t,” as the blood dripped from her mouth. He wasn’t going to provide one syllable of input to this moronic discussion. He rose to leave.

“What? You can’t go anywhere,” said the Jasonmillerus. “You’re in this with the rest of us.”

I have battle scars,” he said in a haunting tone that made them shudder. “And I have to point the Kushneratops in the right direction. He always forgets his way to the Middle Eastlands.”

The others nodded matter of factly. The Marinegunkelly retreated from the meeting.

“Boys?” said the Kellyanneconvixway.

“Yes, well … uh,” stammered the Jasonmillerus. He spit out a walnut shell. His cheeks appeared to be constantly stuffed with them. He’d heard from a brooding Brachiosaurus that eating nuts made you smarter. “The T-Rump was anticipating these dinosaurs coming to him with a migration plan. It was obviously unacceptable and he was upset. There was some salty language.”

“He said sh*t, not salt,” said the Kellyanneconvixway. She shared a knowing look with the Hopehicksbagotrix.

“Look,” said the Stephenmillerus, “am I the only one that sees this? Dinosaurs are just going to have to accept the T-Rump for the racist, vulgar, back-stabbing, bigoted boor he is.”

“Stop it, Stephen. Just stop it.” The Hopehicksbagotrix held up a finely manicured claw. 

The Kellyanneconvixway marveled at it. The Tyvankanatrix had discovered the Hopehicksbagotrix at a claw spa near Hell’s Kitchen. After telling her father about her, the T-Rump and the Hopehicksbagotrix had been inseparable. She stared down the Stephenmillerus.

“That is precisely the bad boy dino-speak we do not need.”

“Who are you calling a Hollywood-Access Bush Pig?”

The Stephenmillerus turned to the Jasonmillerus.

“C’mon, Jason. Let’s go find a Mediacircustops to beat on. I’m so angry I could eat a Wolfblitzer.”

The two dinos, eyes red with testosterone, trudged off.

The two remaining lady dinos clutched claws and sighed.

“You’re one brave dinosaur,” said the Kellyanneconvixway

“Well,” said Hope, “we have our little secret. We know the T-Rump would rather deal with women than men. So … I’ve come up with three options for us to handle the T-Rump’s unfortunate comment.”

“Oooh. I shudder just thinking of that word.”

“Alright then. Instead of “S-H-I-T-hole,” we can say the T-Rump meant to say … The poop on the migration he received was hollow. … Or … This is a lot of crap about the depression that the Crookadillary caused.”

“Blame it on the Crookadillary. That’s always good. He’ll like that.”

“Or … He meant to say the migration policy was simply droppings into the void.”

“Hopehicksbagotrix! The T-Rump is going to love being a poet.”

“Yes, he will want to ensure his legacy one word at a time.”

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