Satire The Trump Dig

The Doorman Knows …

She lowered her head to sniff the sweet magnolia blossoms. She nibbled, then devoured the flower in one bite. Hearing a noise, she looked up. A perfectly wonderful day in Manhattinhand … ruined. …

She lowered her head to sniff the sweet magnolia blossoms. She nibbled, then devoured the flower in one bite. Hearing a noise, she looked up. A perfectly wonderful day in Manhattinhand … ruined.

It was her ex, the Dinodoorman, heading hell-bent her way. It had been five years since she’d kicked his skinny, scaly butt out of their cave. She being the Nikkibenfatto of course, no relation to the Joeybuttafuoco.

“Whaddaya want?” she growled without looking up.

“Ain’t ya even goin’ to say hullo?”

“To the magnolias, maybe. I like them.”

He shrugged and plowed on.

“I got news.”

“You always had news, Dino. Sorry, no cartwheels today. My lower extremities, you know.”

“I’m talking real news. News I wasn’t supposed to tell, but now I can because, news-wise, for two days it’s been all the news.”

“You’re old news, Dino.”

“Remember that job I had with the T-Rump?”

“The one where you leaned against the wall outside his place all day, yakking to any dino that stumbled by?

He ignored her. As he had throughout their 14 years of cohabitation.

“I finally spilled the beans! The T-Rump had a love child — a little dino — with the hired help, 30 years ago.”

“You jumped off the Joyzee Turnpike to tell me that?”

“They paid me 30-thousand moolah-moolah to keep my trap shut all this time.”

“Who paid you?”

“The Davidpecker.”

“You watch your mouth around my cave, Dino.”

“But that’s what he is.”

“Why don’t I believe you? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you’re a manipulative, malicious, pathological liar.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that. But did you hear about the T-Rump and the Comeyonus?”

And the game begins, she thought, sinking into a squatting position, listening to this goofball dino suck the sweetness out of her nearby magnolias.

“The Comeyonus is releasing his memoirs in a series of etchings and the T-Rump is going nuclearballisticus!” The Nuclearballisticus was a hard-shelled Ankylosaurus known for Tasmanian Devil-like tantrums.

“Now I know you’re lying. The T-Rump can’t read.”

“It’s all pictures, so he can. Etchings, remember?”

“Oh, yeah? What colour are they?”


“Golden, huh. How do they stay golden in the rain, smart guy?”

“I dunno. I guess you pray there’s no golden showers.”

The Nikkibenfatto shook her head.

“Still nutso as ever.”

“And the T-Rump, our kind, humble leader of the Milkanhoney Preservation, he called the Comeyonus a weak and untruthful slimeball!

“No, he did not. What’s next? I suppose you’re going to tell me the T-Rump’s own legal dino is under investigation.”

The Dinodoorman was aghast.

“How’d you know? The Michaelcohen was in cahoots with another legal dino, the Keithdavidson. They had it in for that Pornodactyl, the Stormydaniels, and the Playmaytapus, the Karenmcdougall.”

“S-u-u-r-r-e, they did. You’re famous for your stories, Dino. Remember the Chupacabra?”

The Chupacabra was a monstrous, dog-like dino that killed and drank the blood of cow-like dinosaurs. She went on.

“Then there was the Brachiobigfoot. And our friend, the Larrynextdoor, who passed away. You said you saw him skipping down the trail one day. Always something.”

The Dinodoorman set his elongated jaw in place.

“The Oval Dwelling. I’ll bet you didn’t know that all the dinos in the Oval Dwelling are saying nasty things to get rid of the Rodrosenstein.”

“Now why would the T-Rump do that?” she snapped. “He appointed him in the first place! It’s the Rodosenstein’s footprint on the slate that got Comey fired.”

“Which then forced the Rodrosenstein to bring in the Muellersavus,” said the defiant Dinodoorman, hands on hips.

The Nikkibenfatto looked around for something to shut him up with. Her walnut brain was aching and it wasn’t even noon.

“Dino, face it. You’re unstable on every level. Where’s the evidence?”

“Evidence! I’ll give you evidence. You know the Elliottbroidy?”

“Who doesn’t? He’s a Grandoldparty major donor and deputy finance chair dino on their big committee.”

“Well, he just resigned. He got a Playmaytapus pregnant and paid her off with the help of the Michaelcohen.”

“Well now, wasn’t that nice of the Michaelcohen.”

Too nice if you ask me. She got 1.6 million moolah-moolah while the Stormydaniels and the Karenmcdougal only got a tenth of that. They sure got stiffed, huh?”

“Just like me.”

Dino hesitated, trying to picture his ex with the Elliottbroidy.

“Never mind,” she said.

Her stomach gurgled. She was dying for another magnolia.

“As always, you have an extreme, bizarre gift for gab, Dino. Love children and moolah-moolah corrupting the most powerful dinos in the land. Hah! Haven’t seen you in 5 years. Guess that’s how long it took for you to come up with all this.”

“Nope. Five days.”

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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