Satire The Trump Dig

Pathological Putz …

He’d once been the leader of the largest dino population in Manhattinhand. Now here he was, the Rudygiuliani, languishing in the loneliest of lagoons, reduced to accepting the soggy moolah-moolah leaves of Dino Danger Pay. …

He’d once been the leader of the largest dino population in Manhattinhand. Now here he was, the Rudygiuliani, languishing in the loneliest of lagoons, reduced to accepting the soggy moolah-moolah leaves of Dino Danger Pay. That is, he was the last legal dino willing to wade into the swampiest of waters — a 5-Million Year Flood of Fools — to save the desperately drowning Tyrumposaurus.

Two days before, the Michaelcohen had released the secret that the T-Rump had suggested a moolah-moolah payment to the Playmatapus, the Karenmcdougal, for a shady 10-month bungle in the jungle while the Tymelania recovered from dino birth. Then yesterday, the T-Rump’s former legal dino shook the earth with news that the T-Rump had known about the Russodino meeting two years earlier before hand, a fact the T-Rump and the Rudygiuliani had always denied. The Michaelcohen was killing them. What would be next on his daily list of death blows to the Tyrumposaurean Empire? How long could he, the robust, the regaling Rudygiuliani keep the T-Rump’s orange head at swamp-level?

These were the thoughts running through the Rudygiuliani’s small noggin and those of most dinos in the Milkanhoney Preservation as he waited to meet the Chriscuomo, that damned justice-seeking dino for the Mediacircustops. He’d get his chance to clear the air of the grey, foreboding cloud that was the Michaelcohen. Damn them all. He could still put one thought in front of the other. On most days. This would be like taking herbs from a herbivore.

“Welcome, Rudy,” said the Chriscuomo. “Let’s get after your tail and see who it whacks!”

“Hi, Chris,” the Rudygiuliani said through teeth he’d long since broken. As a dino kid, the other dino kids always played tricks on him. They’d give him small stones, saying they were rock candy. What was he supposed to do? It was candy.

“We’re here for the truth, my friend, and the Michaelcohen says the T-Rump knew all about that Russodino meeting before it happened. Your thoughts.”

“He’s a liar, a pathological liar. He lied all last week. And the week before that. He’s been lying for months. Years. Decades. Lies, lies, lies. And more lies. Sheesh!”

“The T-Rump or the Michaelcohen?”

“Oh, the T-Rump? Well now, there’s nothing wrong with his credibility. He’s the leader. He’s done nothing to damage his case. Because there is no case. How can you damage a case when there is no case?”

“Rudy, a few days ago the T-Rump told the Milkanhoney Preservation that dinos shouldn’t believe what they see and hear. Come again? Is the T-Rump making fun of our small brains?”

“No, no. The T-Rump has the biggest brain. We all know that. You know that. I know that. Heck, I’ve seen it. He just wanted to remind the dinos of that. Sometimes you have to. We forget these things. At least I do. The T-Rump? He thinks big. Bigger than our small brains. That’s all. Big brains. Small brains. Next question.”

“Let’s go big picture. What is going on in that big brain? This week the T-Rump threatened to take away the security clearance from half a dozen top Langleyops dinos, he stopped making footprints in the sand for any foreign dino communications and he banned the Kaitlincollins from the next Mediacircustops’ briefing. Is the T-Rump’s big brain feeling the big squeeze of the Muellersavus investigation and the now daily Michaelcohen earthquakes? Do you see him running around looking for a place to hide?”

“Absolutely not! Deep state. That’s what this is. Deep state. Those Langleyops dinos are sticks in the mud stuck in the mud. Hah! Really stuck. Really deep. Deep state, like I said. The dinos now, they don’t need to know this foreign stuff. The T-Rump barely needs to know. Domestic is the way to go. Domestic. Tame them. We need to keep things tame, right?”

“But what about free speech? Dinos need to talk, don’t they?”

“Not about liars, they don’t. She was talking about that Michaelcohen. Such a liar. Path. Oh. Logical. It’s a shame. He was once such a good dino. A dino you could bring home to the cave. Share a Wobblypop with. Tasty rodent. When the T-Rump heard the Michaelcohen had told every dino the secret about the Karenmcdougal moolah-moolah payment that wasn’t a moolah-moolah payment? The Jaysekulow, the T-Rump and me? We all held hands and cried. Cried our eyes out. See here?”

The Rudygiuliani tapped under his eyes with his claws.

“My tear ducts are empty. Can you believe it? Empty. Have to be careful. My eyes might fall out.”

“Well, splash some swamp water in there because we have the T-Rump lying. Again. On this very important obstruction of justice issue. Because we’re after the truth. Right, Rudy?”

“That depends …”

“You’re the T-Rump’s legal dino. We dinos need to know. Is he obstructing the Muellersavus from completing his investigation?

“Never in a million years. Make that two million.”

“Not so fast. I heard his Trollertweety message earlier this week. It went like this: No collusion, no obstruction — but that doesn’t matter because the 13 angry Donkeykongrus dinos, who are only after Grandoldparty dinos and totally protecting Donkeykongrus dinos, want this Witch Hunt to drag out to the mid-term battle. Grandoldparty dinos better get smart fast and expose what they are doing!”

The Chriscuomo stared down the Rudygiuliani.

“Sounds like obstruction to me, Rudy.”

“I don’t know that. I don’t know that.”

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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