Humor Political Satire Satire The T-Rump Dig

Priss Family Robinson …

“I am the chosen one.”
The Tyrumposaurus held his short arms high and positively gleamed at the Mediacircustops gathered before him. A few of them hemmed and hawed. Those more embarrassed than others, looked off to the side. …

“I am the chosen one.”

The Tyrumposaurus held his short arms high and positively gleamed at the Mediacircustops gathered before him. A few of them hemmed and hawed. Those more embarrassed than others, looked off to the side. A couple turned around in complete disbelief. The T-Rump’s latest, greatest whisperer, the Wayneallanroot jumped in to fill the void.

“Our leader, the T-Rump, is the greatest leader for the Jewisaurae of East Jerusalem in the history of the world, not just the Milkanhoney Preservation. He is the best leader for East Jerusalem ever and the Jewisaurae dinos in East Jerusalem love him like he’s the King of East Jerusalem. They love him like he’s the second coming of the dino Gawdalmighty. And importantly, I said “like” but I can’t even tell the difference. Wow! Can you stand it?”

Most dinos there couldn’t. More than a few of the Mediacirucustops caught themselves wishing they were 2000 miles away. Which brings us to the whereabouts of the dinosaur kingdom’s Priss Family Robinson. The Kushneratops, his wife the Tyvankanatrix and their three dino tots, eight-year-old Arabella, five-year-old Joseph and 3-year-old Theodore slogged through the high sand dunes alongside a shallow sea deep inside the Wyoming Valley. It was a hundred degrees in the blistering heat. 

The  Kushneratops stopped to squat beside the water.

“I, uh … I think we’re lost.” 

“Oh, I’m sure we lost them a few days ago,” his wife said, referring to the Paparazzipix, free-wheeling, distant cousins of the Mediacircustops.

“No, I said we’re lost.”

The two dinos looked at each other. The dino tots lapped up the salt water, then coughed and sputtered.

“Daddy,” said Arabella. “Make the awful taste go away!”

“I’m afraid that’s one of the few things your father can’t do, sweetheart.” Tyvanka turned to her husband. “That and keeping us from getting lost,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“You’re the one who wanted to leave in such a hurry,” he snapped. “Grab the kids and go, you said. Your father …”

He stopped and looked down. She grasped his short arm with hers and looked into his eyes mournfully.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. We had to get out of there. Father was having a bad day.”

“A crazy, get-the-hell-out-of-town-cuz-this-dino-is-loony-tunes bad day,” Jared corrected. “He said that if you’re a Jewisaurus and you want a Donkeykongrus dino in power, you are totally without intellect and disloyal. We — you, me, our dino tots — we are Jewisaurae. Does he not know this?! How he can be so S-T-O-O-O-O-O-P-I-D!

The word echoed around the sand dunes.

S-T-O-O-O-O-O-P-I-D … S-T-O-O-O-O-O-P-I-D … S-T-O-O-O-O-O-P-I-D

“Do it again, daddy,” said Joseph, “do it again!”

“No, your father will not say it again.” She turned to Jared. “You know how he gets when he has a chance to pick on minority dinos, women and the Donkeykongrus. It’s almost as good as cheating on Tymelania. It’s what he lives for.”

“And taking over Greenlandia. My god. What was he thinking? Such an idjit.”

“Idjit,” said the wee Theodore. “Grandpa idjit.”

Jared and Tyvanka looked at their youngest dino tot and melted.

“His first words!”

They quickly compartmentalized the cherished family moment and returned to the chaos at hand.

“Jared, this whole Greenlandia thing was a set-up for him to get out of a meeting with the Denmarkus dinos, our allies. His only friends are our foes — wicked, evil dinos like the Kimjongadon and the Putinodon. He knew the Denmarkus would call his advances absurd, allowing him to then call them ‘nasty’ and cancel his trip. The Putinodon will be so very pleased.”

Jared reached for her arm.

“I don’t know how you do it, honey. You continue to amaze me. The love you have for your father when he does the most callous things. Even now when he’s prepared to strip baby dinos from their mothers once more and keep them in captivity forever.”

“Forever,” she whispered. “It sounds so long.”

Together, they looked down at their three dino tots playing in the sand. She turned to her husband, wrapped her tail around his and drew him in close.

“Let’s stay here, Jared. No more Mediacircustops. Just the children. Just us here, where we’re safe.” She looked around. “In this desolate … desert. It does come with a beach.”

He mulled it over with an arching right eye.

“Well, I would avoid the Solitary Sinkhole. But what about water? We’ll die of thirst out here.”

“We’ll pray for rain. Kids, start praying.”

The dino tots stopped and looked to their parents.

“Which way is East Jerusalem, mama?” asked Arabella. 

Tyvanka turned to Jared, who gave her the how-the-hell-should-I-know look. But he needn’t worry, for at that instant came the sound of an approaching dino. Jared was about to holler ‘run for the hills’ when he recognized the dino cresting a nearby sand dune.

“There you two are. And the kids too. How sweet.”

“Mick?” Tyvanka asked. It was the Mickmulvaney.

“Yes. Boy, that was some walk. Glad I caught up with you. Listen, there’s a T-Rump victory shin-dig a couple of sand dunes from here. That-a-way,” he said, pointing north. “I’m sure your father would love having you in attendance. You know what I mean?”

An awkward wink punctuated his question.

Tyvanka turned to Jared, who replied with a helpless shrug. They gathered the children and soon headed north. Tyvanka trudged alongside the Mickmulvaney, waiting to catch his eye.

“How’s my father feeling?” she finally asked.

“Don’t ask. I’m so glad I found you. Misery loves company.”

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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