Satire The Trump Dig

The Huckabeecyclops with Hope …

The muddied waters of Vanity Pond before them, the Huckabeecyclops and Hopehicksbagotrix reclined luxuriously in the dinosaur spa. Alac and alas, this was a working spa day. …

The muddied waters of Vanity Pond before them, the Huckabeecyclops and the Hopehicksbagotrix reclined luxuriously in the dinosaur spa. Alas, this was a working spa day. The two dinosaurs were entrusted with coming up with a letter of support from the Marinegunkelly for the disgraced Robporter, the Marinegunkelly’s right-hand dinosaur. The Robporter had been accused by two ex-wives and his current girlfriend of throwing them around their jungle home.

“Honestly,” said the Huckabeecyclops, “it seems like we’re cleaning up an Oval Dwelling mess every day.”

“We are,” replied the Hopehicksbagotrix, examining a cracked claw. “But we need to protect the T-Rump. He’s the only dinosaur that matters.” She gnawed on another claw. “I can’t believe the Robporter was two-timing me.”

“Well, she was living with him.”

“Whose side are you on? Wait til I get a hold of that waddling wench.”

“You’ve been through so much, Hope. First the Michaelwolff had to go and tell the world about your affair with the Lewandowski. That wasn’t fair at all. The Lewandowski’s wife and four kids … that Michaelwolff wrecked their home. … Um, did you ever, you know, see the Scaramoochkin?”

The Hopehicksbagotrix frowned.

“He was only here for ten days.”

“You poor dear. How are you holding up?”

“I’ll be okay. Somebody has to point the T-Rump in the right direction.”

“I think you’re wonderful, Hope. You could have it all, y’know.”

“I’m working on it. Now, about the Robporter. We need to come up with a story that puts this all in a positive light.”

“Have you seen the ex-wife number one?” asked the Huckabeecyclops. “That was some shiner.”

“That was no shiner. Dizzy dino stuck her head in some poison ivy. The Robporter said so and I believe him because the T-Rump only surrounds himself with the best dinos. I mean, look at us.”

“Oh, I wish I could be like you, Hope. You came in here with no political experience whatsoever and I, well …”

“Now, now. Never underestimate the power of nepotism.”

“How do you do it, Hope?”

“Listen, if you want to walk the walk and rock the block, you’ve come to the right place. Did you have any particular dino in mind?”

“Hope, I’m married.”

“And so are they. How do you expect to rise in this place?

“Well, I am tired of lying all the time.”

“Don’t say that. I didn’t hear it.”

“I’m sorry, Hope. It’s just that, I’ve been having problems with …”

“I know, I know. Your self confidence, isn’t it? Look, you just have to start small. Okay?”

“Well, if you say so. You are closest to the president. So you do know what’s best.”

‘Exactly. Now, take the Stephenmillerus. Do you know why he’s always looking at the ground?”

“He doesn’t know where he’s going?”

“Some times. But mostly because he’s lonely.”


“Yes, he’s playing the woe-is-me-take-me-home-so-I-can-yell-at-you card. But you can do better.”

“I can?”

“Sure. There’s you know who.”

The Huckabeecyclops gasped.

“You mean …”

“Sure, girl. That debonair dino. The Reedcordish.” The Hopehicksbagotrix deliciously drew out the Trump assistant dino’s name. He was an absolute hex. That is, handsome with extra smarts.

“The Reedcordish doesn’t know I exist,” said the Huckabeecyclops, a claw burrowed up her nose.

“You just have to be picky and play hard to get.”

The Huckabeecylcops extended her claw further.

“Don’t worry,” said the Hopehicksbagotrix. “I’ll put in a good word for you. They don’t call me the gossip girl for nothing. Now that we’ve worked ourselves into a Reedcordish frenzy, let’s knock off that letter for the old rattletrap. Give me the dirt.”

“Okay. Well, the Robporter’s accused of beating up an ex-wife.”

“He’s a strong man for the Milkanhoney Preservation.”

“Don’t forget the second ex-wife. He was beating up two lady dinos.”

“He’s an extra strong man …”

“And the ex-girlfriend. She had issues with him too.”

“He’s an extra strong man who does not know what three-strikes-you’re-out means. He always comes back for more. And that’s why I back him 100%. Close and insert name here, Marinegunkelly.”

“You do this so well, Hope.”

“It comes with the territory. Stick with me, Huckabee. This is just the beginning. Pass the mud … and how about that Reedcordish? You better grab him or I will. Whatta dino dish.”

The two lady dinos blissfully curled their toes, sinking deeper into the mud.

By David Belisle

I'm a novelist and screenwriter in search of the Great Guffaw. It's kind of like getting hit with a bucket of Gatorade. It's a good time that sticks with you.

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