Satire The Trump Dig

The Re-Enactment Road Show …

The Dowderpuff and the Jaysekulow looked at each other from behind the rock outcropping and smiled. It was their third show in three nights. Deep inside the Rustic Belt, last night in Chintzynatti, tonight in Cleavageland. They were hot. …

The Dowderpuff and the Jaysekulow looked at each other from behind the rock outcropping and smiled. It was their third show in three nights. Deep inside the Rustic Belt, last night in Chintzynatti, tonight in Cleavageland. They were hot. The dino faithful were eating them up. The Re-Enactment Road Show had come together following the bombshell that the two legal dinos had re-enacted their mock Muellersavus interview with the Tyrumposaurus in front of the Muellersavus himself. The Dowderpuff played the T-Rump and the Jaysekulow, the Muellersavus.

The crowd buzzed with anticipation. The two starring dinos stepped out from behind the rocks into the clearing. The audience stopped gnashing their teeth, the gratuitous slobbering slowed to a healthy dribble and the show began …

“T-Rump,” the Jaysekulow said stoically, “do you understand why you’re here?”

“Yeah, you’re just trying to make me look bad.”

“On the contrary, I’m giving you an opportunity to clear yourself.”

“I can clear myself. By myself. I have pardon power, remember?”

Giggles and a snort from the audience. The Jaysekulow glared at the disrupter. This was serious business.

“Now then, on the issue of obstruction …”

“I know, I know. Like when a Gingerbeefy bone gets stuck in my throat.”

“Uh, no. I must warn you, obstruction is when a dino, specifically yourself, interferes with an investigation.

“What investigation?”

“Wait for the question, please. Now then, did you tell the Comeyonus to go easy on the Flynnhasbeen and if so, why?”

“Of course I told him to go easy. I had him over for dinner. I believe, yes, he asked to come. So then I asked him three times who his favourite dino was and not once did he say me. It was a fresh kill of Primoribless, all-meat, no-bone. How dare he! I was the host with the most. Where’s the respect? The loyalty? That’s almost treasonous. So, Bob, can I call you Bob? You’ll go easy on me, won’t you?

“T-Rump, would you care to repeat what you said to the Lesterholt?”

“Aha! I know what this is. It’s a perfect trap.”

“You mean perjury trap.”

The Dowderpuff smirked at the Jaysekulow.

“You can’t trap me.”

“Ahem. What did you say to the Lesterholt?”

“I said, you know, this Russia thing with the T-Rump and the Russodinos is a made up story.”

“Impressive. You just repeated verbatim what you told the Lesterholt.”

“I did, didn’t I? I told you I wasn’t going to get caught in … that thing.”

“Perjury trap.”


“T-Rump, you’re in a high pressure position. There’s plenty of stress. It’s understandable you may get testy at times. My next question deals with intent.  Why did you call the Sessionsopossum a Mentalretardus and a Dumsouthernaurus?”

“Because he’s scared stiff and missing in action! … But, while I’m here, did you want to hear my Dumsouthernaurus impression? “Ah say, mah tax bill, mah moolah-moolah. y’all hand it oh-vuh, ya hee-ah?”

“Moving right along to the collusion issue. I will limit it to just one question. Did you or any dino in your campaign deal with any Russodinos?”

“Bob, please. They’re not just any Russodinos. These are my friends. Every one of them. Like family. They’d be hurt if they heard you downplaying their importance. That’s all I’m going to say. Next question.”

“Did you wash any Russodino moolah-moolah on any banks?”

“Me? Of course not. I have other dinos for that. The best. You should see them wash that moolah-moolah on the banks. They know me at the Cyprus Bypass, great bank for washing moolah-moolah.”

“Finally, T-Rump, on the subject of your campaign giving moolah-moolah to the Pornodactyl and Playmatapus–”

“Woah, stop right there. That was my moolah-moolah. Not some campaign dino. That was me with them. Both of them. There were more but you’ll just have to keep looking. I’m sure you’ll find it was all me. I can’t have someone else taking credit for all that free publicity, right?”

“I, uh … suppose not.”

“As for my intent …”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Hey, Bobby. Quiet. I don’t need to get permission from you to toot my own horn. Pornodactyl and Playmatapus. There. Tooted.”

“T-Rump, what can I say but thank you. That will be all. You can go now. I’m nearing completion of my footprints in the sand report.”

“You do that. I’ll need that report pronto so we can put this all behind us. Great meeting. I know I don’t have to ask you three times about saying good things about me, right?”

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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