The Tyrumposaurus squatted at the edge of the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir. He lowered his cagey mug close to the water, pursed his lips like a baby dino and, using his short arms, flicked the water repeatedly toward his mouth. Much of it missed. He coughed and sputtered as water went up his nose. Eventually he swallowed a meager gulp, wheezed loudly and sat back exhausted on his haunches. Drinking was so tiresome. The T-Rump turned to his legal dino, the Dowderpuff.
“Let me get this right, you’re telling me that if I lie, there are consequences? Since when?”
“Since the Muellersavus is acting as special counsel. You are walking straight into a perjury trap.”
“Perjury trap? What the hell is that?”
“Remember how we agreed you would simply deny, deny, deny everything about the 14 lady dinos who accused you of sexual assault … and the Stormydaniels Pornodactyl whom you did. Er, consensually.”
“You’re losing me. One word at a time. You know I don’t read.”
“The ‘D’ word, T-Rump.”
“No. Deny. Unfortunately this time that’s not going to work. To quote the Puerto Rikiricardo, you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.”
“Since when has that been a problem? You know I can get away with … with … eating my young.”
“Of course. But one small slip-up with the Moscovian Bluffs and you could wind up in the Solitary Sink Hole.”
“Ha-ha. You’re funny.”
The smug grin fell from the T-Rump’s face as he realized the Dowderpuff was serious.
“But we’ve got the questions, right? Tell me we’ve got the questions. We haven’t been playing this Devilnunesmemo game for the time-wasting, evidence-gathering farce it is, right? Bless his courageous, patriotic, only-once-besmirched heart.”
“No questions, but we do have the topics.”
“Great. I’ll just deny the topics.”
“You can’t deny a topic.”
The Dowderpuff shook his head.
“My rate just went up another caveful of moolah-moolah leaves.”
“Whatever. I just borrowed a trillion, remember? One Trillion,” he said, putting a claw to his lower lip.
“Wonderful. As your legal dino however, I’m making the call on this one.”
“Fine. Just tell the Mediacircustops that I made the decision. You know how fragile my ego is.”
“On the bright side,” said the Dowderpuff, “you may not even have to meet with the Muellersavus. To justify your being there, we can say his evidence hasn’t met a high-enough threshold.”
“Ha!” said the T-Rump. “I knew a low-level Oval Dwelling was the way to go.”
“One last consideration. He can still send the Subpoenaraptor after you.”
The T-Rump harrumphed.
“If the Bannoncanon can get away with it, so can I.”
“On the other claw, all the Oval Dwelling dinos agree that the Muellersavus won’t have the guts to do it.”
“So, no Subpoenaraptor?”
“But I want the Subpoenaraptor. If it’s good enough for the Bannoncanon …”
“Trust me, you don’t.”
“Hey. I’m the counter-puncher. And I watch my Foxsquawkbox friends religiously. I’ll show that Littleadamschiff, the Cryingchuck and the Nancypelosionyx for sitting on their claws for my Great List of Excuses Address. The Dacadreamers can wait, the whole damn lot of Dowjonestickers, every one of’em can wait … and this gawd-awful government-thing can just shut right down, because I’m tired of being number two in any Mediacircustops news cycle. Bring on the Muellersavus. Bring on the Subpoenaraptor. Bring on the sun to shine … on … me.”
He clapped his legal dino on the back.
“I’ve got this, Dowderfluff.”
“Ahem. That’s puff.”