The Seanhannity clan gathered around the fresh kill of the day for supper. A delicious, 6000-pound Denversaurus. The Jillrhodes looked over the carcass at her husband and their two young dinos, the Patrickhannity and Merrihannity, drooling at the feast before them. The Seanhannity hadn’t killed it of course. No, when you made 36-million moolah-moolah a year as a Foxsquawkbox mouthpiece, you had others do your killing for you. The Jillrhodes knew the meat would expire in a few hours and they’d better eat fast. Still, there were flat rock table manners. She eyed her dino tots’ grubby hands.
“Patrick, Merri. No mud on the meat now. It’s all in the presentation.”
The children quickly licked their dirty hands clean, salivating all the while.
“I want the eyeballs!” said Patrick.
“No, I want the eyeballs!” said Merri.
“Here,” said their mother, ripping the fleshy orbs from the eye sockets of the wide skull. “Thank goodness dinos have two eyes. But ribs first, you two. Then the eyes.”
A Denversaurus Rib-Eye was indeed a delicacy. With the two young dinos immersed in the dripping spoils, the Jillrhodes turned to her husband.
“Can you believe the Michaelcohen?”
“The Michael who?”
“That slimeball legal dino.”
“Oh.” The Seanhannity pretended to lose himself in the meaty armpit before him.
“Not that he’s ever been in Dinosaur Court. At last count before the raid, his clients were mixed up with a Pornodactyl, a couple of Playmaytapus and that smiling nincompoop, the Keithdavidson. Not once or twice. Three times!”
“That’s not a charm,” her husband said, thoughtfully swallowing a chunk of meat.
“No, it’s downright disgusting. How’d he come to be the T-Rump’s legal dino?”
“Uh, this is still the Milkanhoney Preservation. He has rights, you know.”
The Jillrhodes snorted. Bloody mucus spewed from her nose.
“Hah! What good are rights when you have no morals?”
The Seanhannity thanked his lucky charms his wife wasn’t on his show.
She picked up the club-like femur bone and quickly stripped the meat from it.
“You think the T-Rump doubles down? I’ll show you doubling down. If I ever caught you with a Pornodactyl …”
She whacked him twice on the noggin. Hard.
“Ouch! Hey!”
“Mommy’s hitting daddy again,” Merri announced.
“Everything’s okay, children. Your mother is just laying down the law.”
She turned back to her husband.
“When you go into Foxsquawkbox mode, I have no idea what you’re up to.”
“You would if you’d just watch my show.”
“You know I wouldn’t waste one second on that trivial tripe you call the truth.”
“Can we watch, mom?” the dino tots said as one.
“NO! It’ll poison your minds!” She turned back to her cowering mate. “And this mystery client. Hah! What a crock of Shishkabobcats.”
“Mom, what’s a mystery client?” asked Patrick.
“A dino who is trying to hide something.”
“Like what?”
“Ask your father.”
The Seanhannity gulped, swallowed a bone and hacked it up.
“What?! … I mean … (cough, cough) who knows? Yeah. … Pffph. Who knows?”
Patrick scrunched his face.
“But you said you knew everything, including the Donkeykongrus’ Deep State thoughts, daddy.”
“Seanhannity! Have you been teaching our children those cornball conspiracy theories again?!”
“Hey, it’s a dino-eat-dino world out there.”
“But what the Michaelcohen is doing is criminal.”
“Innocent until proven guilty?” He looked to his kids for support. They weren’t buying it. Better they not see ol’ daddy dino like this. “Kids, time to play outside the cave.”
“Seanhannity!” his wife exclaimed. Good to see how popular he was in his own home.
“You know very well we’re in the Pterodactyl prime pickin’s corridor this time of day.” She eyed him warily. “Something’s wrong. What are you hiding? C’mon, out with it.”
“Uh. Nothing.”
“Don’t you nothing me.” She pointed to the bloody Denversaurus. “You’re next on the flat rock if you don’t cough it up right now. And your sudden demise won’t be a Sethrich conspiracy story. I’ll tell them I did it.”
She bonked him twice again with the bloody femur bone. It was their new Talking Bone.
“Alright, alright.” The Seanhannity surrendered, holding his short arms in the air. “I’M the mystery client. But he’s not really my legal dino. He helped me out with some advice on real estate. You know, the Porno-, I mean Hornoplenty Badlands.”
“Oh, this could end badly for you alright.”
She took one look at their children and told herself she wouldn’t scar them for life. No, she’d bide her time. Because hell hath no fury like a dino scorned by a Michaelcohen client.
She gave her husband the extra-hairy eyeball. Her nostrils flared, slimy snot bubbles boiling over. Momma was mad.
Merri turned to her brother.
“Daddy’s sleeping in the den tonight.”
David Belisle 