Satire The T-Rump Dig

Sexism with Kellyanne …

The Stephenmillerus looked out at the overflowing dino crowd and frowned. He had a bad feeling about this. The Tyrumposaurus had wanted to do yet another vanity roadshow to win over middle-of-the-rock-sitting dinos.
But here at the biggest Feminist Movement in the Milkanhoney Preservation? …

The Stephenmillerus peered out at the overflowing dino crowd and frowned. He had a bad feeling about this. The Tyrumposaurus had wanted to do yet another vanity roadshow to augment his base with any middle-of-the-rock and left-leaning dinos.

But here at the biggest Feminist Movement in the Milkanhoney Preservation? The air was thick with estrogen. Thanks to two huge female groups, each 5000 strong. There was the cramped, angst-ridden Give Men Pause with Menopause. And of course, in light of recent events, there was Get Crackin’!, a pro-abortion group vowing to drop their eggs at any time during the three-to-six month gestation period.

Now there’s a win-win situation, thought the Stephenmillerus. If illegally migrated Latinonachos did manage to hatch any eggs, we’ll be right there to snatch their dino tots away from them.

The T-Rump sauntered onto the stage. Two dinos clapped, then stopped when they realized this wasn’t the warm-up act. A dino in the front row rose from her squat.

“What are you even doing here?”

“Wow. Tough crowd. I promise you it’ll get better. Greetings, ladies. Don’t worry, I’ll behave. I don’t want you all to get upset like that Megynkelly, bleeding from her eyes, bleeding from wherever.”

Shock and awe from the audience. Boos and angry hisses filled the air.

Behind the T-Rump, off to the side, the Kellyanneconvixway squatted, resolute, almost regal, like a prom queen waiting for some dino to ask her to dance.

“Sexist!” came a loud cry from the crowd, wiping Kellyanne’s smile from her face.

“I can’t believe this!”

She rose from her squat and strode to the T-Rump’s side.

“Listen to yourselves! Just listen. How dare you boo the leader of the Dino Nation. Where were you when the Timkaine interrupted a female debate moderator? That’s right. Interrupted. Now that was sexist.”

The apples and oranges gender-switch threw the women in the audience off-guard. The Kellyanneconvixway took this as instant victory. She motioned for the T-Rump to continue as she returned to her squat.

“Thank you, Kellyanne.” He gave the audience a smug grin. “Now then, where were we? Oh, yes. Whenever it hits, menopause or abortion, you know you love me. All the women love me. Well, maybe not the Rosieodonnell … or the Carlyfiorina. But I mean, c’mon … Look at that face. Would anyone vote for that?”

Fresh, loud boos and yells from the crowd. Jaws snapped. Nostrils flared. Several dinos were foaming at the mouth. Some respectfully headed for the exits before they did something they’d regret. Menopause does affect each dino differently. Kellyanne scampered back beside her boss.

“Hey! Where are you going? Have you no respect? You can’t just leave. That – that … whatever you just heard, that wasn’t sexist. Remember the Maziehirono verbally attacking the Brettkavanaugh–”

Boos drowned her out at the mention of the new conservative Supreme Dino Court judge. It was an ominous warning that female dinos may be forced to hatch any and all of their eggs. The Kellyanneconvixway gave the women her tired, put-upon look guaranteed to draw a response of silent, wide-eyed incredulity.

“Ladies,” she said in her favourite  condescending tone. “The Brettkavanaugh did not physically attack the Christineblaseyford. Traumatic experience. Great memory. Wrong face. So, while you’re sitting there, hatching any of your dozen eggs, just remember it was the Maziehirono who was sexist. Maziehirono. Sexist.”

She glared at them for good measure, then gripped the arm of the T-Rump, signalling he was good to go.

“You ladies are sure ramped up tonight. I see that look in your eyes. That heat of the moment anger that says you smell blood. My blood. Say, I could make some moolah-moolah off this. Two moolah-moolah leaves to smell my blood. Reminds me of the last time I saw the Mikabrezinski. She was bleeding badly from a face lift. Craned her neck too high. Very sad.”

The crowd erupted with howls and screams. The ladies were livid. Several rushed the stage but their short legs were unable to scale the rocks to reach the T-Rump. The Kellyanneconvixway was having none of it.

“Oh, come on. You think that’s sexist? What about … That’s right. It’s What About Time. Already. What about the Coreybooker? Don’t look at me like that, 10,000 female dinos. You do remember. All of you. The Coreybooker had the gall, the unmitigated audacity to announce he was running for leader of the Dino Nation when there were already women in the primary field. How about that, ladies? Can you believe it? Can you? Out and out sexism!”

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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