The weekend had arrived at the more acidic end of the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir. It was a special recluse for dinos looking for a minor, malty, hoppy respite or those of the wide-mouthed Sloppydrunk species. The Brettkavanaugh trudged in, tail between his legs, sniffling and looking like he’d been crying for several hours. He spotted and made his way for an open reservoir-side ledge. He was about to squat with a plop when another dinosaur roared.
“Hey, bud! You can’t have that seat.”
It was the voice of the Bouncerbeasty, a large, gap-toothed dino who took his territorial instincts beyond the proprietary level. An owner with an attitude. Except this was the Brettkavanaugh’s favorite watering hole.
“Whaddaya mean? This is my seat!”
“You don’t remember?”
“Yesterday, you, ahem … boofed all over the ledge. It took the Bleachersaurus and two skunks to get that smell off the rock.”
“Hold it right there!”
The Lindseygraham jumped out from behind a clump of Junipers. He snarled at the Bouncerbeasty.
“If you wanted a Langleyops investigation you could’ve come to us.”
“What you want to do is destroy this dino’s life, hold this seat open and hope some other dino takes it in two years.”
“Two years? Look around. It’s happy hour.”
The Lindseygraham turned to the Brettkavanaugh.
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. When you see the Sotomayor and the Kaganator, tell’em that Lindsey said hello, cuz I voted for them.”
The Bouncerbeasty’s face screwed up.
“You voted for those two?”
“Okay, so I was having a Donkeykongrus moment. Excuse me, but I have a T-Rump rant to continue.”
He inhaled deeply and held his breath for 30 seconds until his cheeks were a blustery red. He waggled a claw at the Bouncerbeasty.
“I would never do to them what you’ve done to this guy.”
“Well, duh. Lady dinos don’t frequent this end of the reservoir.”
The Lindseygraham huffed and puffed.
“This is the most unethical sham since I’ve been in politics.” Then to the Brettkavanaugh. “I can’t imagine what you and your family have gone through. I don’t know who’s crying more, you or your wife.”
He returned to the Bouncerbeasty.
“Boy, you all want power. God, I hope you never get it.”
“It’s just a seat, pal.”
“I hope the Milkanhoney Preservation dinos see through this charade. God, I hate to say it cuz these have been my friends.” He turned back to the Brettkavanaugh. “But let me tell you when it comes to this. If you’re looking for a fair process, you came to the wrong town at the wrong time, my friend.”
“Buddy,” said the Bouncerbeasty, “you’re welcome to drown your sorrows and continue your war stories over there.”
But the Lindseygraham was on a roll. He got back in the Brettkavanaugh’s face.
“Do you consider this a job interview?”
“I came here for a drink.”
“This is not a job interview. This is hell.”
“It will be if I don’t get served.”
“This is going to destroy the ability of good people to come forward because of this crap.”
“Hey!” the Bouncerbeasty jumped in. “Don’t knock the muddy water. It’s an acquired taste.”
The Lindseygraham raised his voice, taking in the reservoir crowd.
“To my Grandoldparty colleagues, if this dino doesn’t get this seat, you’re legitimizing the most despicable thing that I have seen in my time in politics.” He turned to the Bouncerbeasty. “You want this seat? I hope you never get it.”
“Who killed the T-Rump and made you king? Get outta here, mac!”
“Hold it. Please. Just a minute.”
The Lindseygraham turned to the sound of the voice.
“The Christineford? … But you’re just a victim. I mean, a victim with a, uh … problem. I mean …”
“It appears you’re the one suffering right now. Perhaps I can help.”
She tapped the dino in the next seat and pointed to his seat.
The dino grunted but her patient smile convinced him to get up and move to another ledge.
She pointed to the two adjoining seats now open and to the Lindseygraham.
Wide eyes from the Brettkavanaugh.
“Hey, that’s my–”
The Christineford put a claw to her lips and pointed to the other side of the Reservoir.
“You shouldn’t be here, remember?”
“Oh, right. Heh-heh.”
He shuffled off, sniffling and pouting about his poor luck, hoping happy hour wouldn’t end before he got to the other side.
The Lindseygraham was by now on his back. He looked up at the sky, snickering lightly at the shapes of the clouds.
“Tell me,” the Christineford said gently. “What seems to be bothering you?”
“I – I miss the Johnmccainus.”
“We all do.”
“You know I called the T-Rump a jackass for mocking him.”
“I remember. The T-Rump then told every dino where you lived.”
“It took me two weeks to find another cave. That race-baiting, xenophobic, religious bigot. I don’t believe the T-Rump has the temperament and judgment to be commander in chief.”
“That’s it, get it all out.”
“I told them the T-Rump was going to places where very few people have gone and I wasn’t going with him. I told them if the T-Rump won, we’d get destroyed. And we would deserve it.”
The Christineford smiled.
“Wow. That was a lot to get off your chest.”
“I was just wondering …”
“Could I see you on a weekly basis?”