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Satire The Trump Dig

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Words? …

The Marinegunkelly stuck his head into the Oval Dwelling. The Tyrumposaurus was munching on his third Cheezbuggabugga.
“More bad news,” said the chief of staff. “The Sin Hut Committee just agreed with the Langleyops that the Russodinos meddled in your glorious defeat of the Crookadillary.” …

The Marinegunkelly stuck his head into the Oval Dwelling. The Tyrumposaurus was munching on his third Cheezbuggabugga.

“More bad news,” said the chief of staff. “The Sin Hut Committee just agreed with the Langleyops that the Russodinos meddled in your glorious defeat of the Crookadillary.”

“They cannot take that away from me! I beat her fair and square.”

A sobering look down the snout from the Marinegunkelly.

“Don’t start,” said the T-Rump, “I didn’t need any help from the weaponized, social molars of that rogue dino Cambridgeanalyticus.”

“The Christopherwylie is telling everybody that the Bannoncanon used the Cambridgeanalyticus to suppress Crookadillary supporters.”

“Whistle blowers are leakers! Leakers, I tell you. And I didn’t need any help from the Wikileakibeak either. Or the 30 years of high-fives, backslapping and late nights with the Russodinos. It was, is and always will be about ME. Hmm. Is it too late to make that my new campaign slogan? Now then, did I beat the Crookadillary? Remind me.”

“Yes, T-Rump. You beat her fair and square.”

“And?”

“And you could’ve beat her by more if she didn’t have millions of Californius dinos voting multiple times against you.”

“Get the Giuliani on that pronto.”

“On what?”

“I don’t know. I just like saying that. Get him on …  whatever. He’s been here three weeks now so he no longer knows what the truth is. That’s the way I want it. The more bafflegab, the better. Keep lying … “

“Until the truth gives up and goes home,” the Marinegunkelly said by rote. He sighed the sigh of a million delusionally blind dinosaurs, then remembered where he was.

“Oh, yes. Your financial footprint in the sand?”

“What about it?”

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to get away with not having to certify that the information is true.”

“Dammit! If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?”

Praying that it was a rhetorical question and not another cry for adulation, the Marinegunkelly pressed on.

“Now that you’ve disclosed your payment to the Stormydaniels, we can expect the ethics dinosaurs to come traipsing through here any moment. Since it’s a Thursday, is that still one of our Days of Denial?”

A sour puss from the T-Rump.

“I can’t keep up with the Rudygiuliani. Maybe that’s a good thing. You know, plausible deniability.”

“He’s your lawyer, T-Rump.”

“Don’t remind me. It’s so damn lonely here at the top. I miss those chance encounters with Pornodactyls. I’m going for a walk to cheer up.”

Moments later, while strolling down a nearby path, the T-Rump came upon a large gathering. It was the commencement ceremony for graduating Virginiamilitarius dinos. The T-Rump searched the crowd for young twenty, thirty and forty-somethings before his gaze finally arrived at the flat rock podium where his former secretary of state, the Saveyourenergyrex, was speaking.

If our leaders seek to conceal the truth, or we as dinosaurs become accepting of alternative realities that are no longer grounded in facts, then we as Milkanhoney Preservation dinos are on a pathway to relinquishing our freedom.

The T-Rump frowned. There he goes again, flapping his gums. Why am I thinking of the Kellyanneconvixway?

“A responsibility of every dinosaur to each other,” the Saveyourenergyrex continued, “is to preserve and protect our freedom by recognizing what truth is and is not, what a fact is and is not and begin by holding ourselves accountable to truthfulness and demand our pursuit of the Milkanhoney Preservation’s future be fact-based — not based on wishful moron thinking, not hoped-for moron outcomes made in shallow moron promises.”

The T-Rump tapped his chin with a claw. Moron? What moron?

“Because you must stand up to the morons in your life,” said his former chief of staff. “Never, ever be afraid to call a moron a moron. Even if that moron is the greatest moron in the world. Because morons can’t be great. They’re morons. And they surround themselves with other morons because morons love morons. It’s how they multiply. Everybody becomes a moron. It’s contagious. Like ringworm. Because another worm has joined the ring. Don’t be fooled. It’s a moron alright. Don’t be a moron. Get up and leave. Like I did. … So, in closing, to become a successful, ahem … ringworm-free dinosaur, who do you stay away from?”

“MORONS!” the crowd of dinos gleefully cheered as the T-Rump continued tapping his chin. Who’s the greatest moron?

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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