“Take a look already.”
“I just did.”
“Go look again,” said the Tyrumposaurus.
The Marinegunkelly slowly rose from his haunches and trudged across the Oval Dwelling. It was his only role these days: Subpoenasaurus Look-Out. He reached the doorway and stuck his crooked neck out.
“All clear,” he called back.
“You’re sure now?”
“You’re paranoid.”
The T-Rump turned to the Rudygiuliani and the Jaysekulow.
“That Muellersavus is going to be the death of us all. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months. I’d start paying you two moolah-moolah but I can’t afford to slip ONE notch in the FORD List.”
FORD stood for Filthy, Obscenely Rich Dinos.
“We need a new strategy,” said the T-Rump. “The Treygowdy blew up our Spygate excuse, that little white-haired weasel, talking out of the wrong nostril again. Whaddaya got, Rudy? Something crazy, I hope?”
The Rudygiuliani leaned forward. Too fast. He was so eager he did a face plant in the sand. No one came to his aid. It was all part of his daily sideshow. He struggled back on his haunches, rubbed his eyes with his short arms and blinked wide-eyed several times. Head cleared, he slapped his hands together and his delirious grin finally reappeared. He pointed a wavering claw in the air.
“Changing recollection.”
“What?!” said the T-Rump. “This isn’t some recycling program!”
“No, no. It’s a new way we can LIE.”
He drew the word out like the seasoned veteran he was. He knew the T-Rump liked a long lie. The longer, the better.
“Go on.”
“We got good mileage out of the Kellyanneconvixway’s ‘alternative facts,’ right?”
“God, I hate that phrase, and she’s on our team,” the Jaysekulow said, shaking his head.
“You see,” said the Rudygiuliani, “we need a new cover phrase for our lies because we need to get out front of a lot of them. And I mean a LOT.”
“Are we talking all 3,251?” asked the T-Rump.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Just the big ones. You know, the whoppers.”
“Well, I am the greatest.”
The Jaysekulow wiped his nose on a moolah-moolah leaf and frowned.
“They got us dead to rights on you dictating that message to the T-Rump Jr. after the Russodino meeting.”
“Damn Mediacircustops,” the T-Rump cursed. Always with the questions.“
“Problem solved,” said the Rudygiuliani. “We just say with so much information out there, coupled with us having to concoct cover stories for cover stories for cover stories, there’s no way we could keep things straight.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” said the Jaysekulow.
“Quiet,” said the T-Rump. “I can always bring back the Dowderpuff.”
The two legal dinos looked at each other. They knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. The Dowderpuff had last been seen hightailing it for the Valley de la Vegetatif, home to dinos both vapid and vacuous.
The T-Rump caught the eye of the Marinegunkelly.
“What are you looking at. The, uh … doorway?”
The chief Subpoenasaurus Spotter trudged once more to the entrance.
“Ahem, I’m not done,” said the Rudygiuliani.
“There’s more?” said the T-Rump. “Such great return on my investment.”
Another look shared by the two legal dinos. What investment? They were working pro bono.
“Uh, that’s right,” said the Rudygiuliani, “we get around this whole obstruction of justice thingamabob by telling them who you really are.”
“The Tyrumposaurus? … Or one of my many aliases used to help pump up publicity for my insatiable need of recognition from the Mediacircustops.”
“No, not that. You are leader of the free-running dinosaur world. And as such, you probably — that’s the key word here because, heh-heh, I’ve forgotten more than the Jaysekulow will ever know.”
“Very funny,” said his crusty colleague.
“Which means maybe,” said the Rudygiuliani, “just maybe, you can tell the Meullersavus to stick it where Brown Nose Raptor goes. I mean, you’re the boss … the head honcho … the T-Rump of this dump.”
The T-Rump’s orange brow furrowed.
“You mean I can’t obstruct myself? I can pardon any dino I want — including myself — and I can call off the whole Russodino investigation?”
“Basically,” said the Rudygiuliani. “We just need to throw in some ‘ifs,’ a few ‘maybes’ and sprinkle in some ‘buts.’”
“Don’t forget the ‘probablies,’” said the Jaysekulow. “Lots of probablies.”
“Make it so,” said the T-Rump.
And that was how the T-Rump’s vaunted legal dino team set in place 20 footprints in the sand a judicial planning strategy, a JPS that stood for Just Plain Stupid, the most insane legal stance ever hatched by the Oval Dwelling walnut-brained.
David Belisle 