The good dinos of the Milkanhoney Preservation were at the brink. Literally. Their very well being depended upon it. At their back were the somber, blowing, bellowing Winds of Impeachment, a freak dino dust bowl atmospheric effect that brought enough hot air to leave your head spinning. Before their large dino feet was the Fullbore-Partisan Divide, a great chasm separating them from the other side.
Fortunately, there was a narrow, natural bridge across the 50-yard divide, a bridge with a fork in it no less. One side led true north to the High Road. The other side took a southern path to the Wastelands. It was not a trek for the faint of heart, as the dizzying look down to the swampy depths of Troubled Waters reminded them.
The unwashed masses — it had been a long day in the sun — peered across the bridge at the choice before them. On the High Road, stood the respected Donkeykongrus. Over in the Wastelands were the resolute Grandoldparty dinos. A secondary divide, the chasm between the two parties themselves was only five feet but it may as well have been five miles. No dino even considered making the jump.
The undecided dinos put their heads together because two walnuts were better than one. They barely had a chance to crack nuts when the clouds parted, a Trollertweety squawked and a Whistleblower dino appeared. He took in his vast audience, raised his short arms to them and said …
“I’ve been with the Tyrumposaurus now for two years. That is to say, I’ve been to hell and back. Half a dozen dinos with direct knowledge — that’s right, dino gospel — they spoke to me. And I listened. I also made Comeyonus-like copious footprints in the sand. Boy, do I have a story to tell. I will speak to you soon. That’s why you really should follow me when I head north, right this way to the High Road.”
“Hey! You can’t say that. Only I can say that!”
It was the T-Rump on the Wastelands side.
“Stop right there! Don’t listen to him! He’s a dino spy! Hold me back. I’m gonna execute him like we did in the good ol’ days.”
No dinos stepped forward to hold the T-Rump back. He stepped behind another dino to make it look that way. He realized the situation’s awkwardness, coughed and stepped back in front.
“Okay, Mick. We have a lot of dinos over there who want to pick me. What’s the plan?”
The Mickmulvaney gulped.
“Plan? Sorry, boss. I got nothin’.”
“Idiot! What do you mean nothing? You’ve known about this for a month!”
The T-Rump looked up at the many gawking dinos from across the abyss.
“Uh, that’s right. I’ve got my best dinos on this. Tell him how great you are, Mick.”
“Not as great as you are, T-Rump.”
“Good answer. Now get out of my sight. And don’t forget to remind me tomorrow to consider firing you. You know how I forget about these things.”
“Will do, boss.”
The T-Rump turned to the unwashed masses across the way.
“This is T-Rump harassment to the highest degree of T-Rump harassment!”
Some dinos on the other side scratched their heads.
“It’s bad,” the T-Rump continued. “Tell’em how bad, Matt. You got all the talking points, didn’t you? Tell me you got all the talking points.”
“I – I did. Ahem. Did you, uh … have a preference for which one first?”
This was taking too long. The T-Rump motioned for him to get yapping. The Mattgaetz looked across the divide.
“The Donkeykongrus are playing pin the tail on impeachment. You know that ‘pin the tail on the donkeysaurus’ child’s game?”
Blank stares from the multitude of dinos.
“You know, where you take the tail and you, you … you pin it, see …”
The dinos weren’t getting it, though it looked like the Mattgaetz was going to get it from the T-Rump. The Nancypelosi called out from the High Road.
“Your forefathers, if they were here today, they would line their tails together and say this is a cover-up of a cover-up.”
The undecided dinos mulled this over, many nodding in agreement.
“This … This, I tell you,” said the Devilnunesmemo in his doomsday baritone, “is a sad, sad day for the Milkanhoney Preservation. Just miserable. I don’t know how I’m keeping myself from jumping off this cliff. When the Adamschiff has the audacity to fabricate elements of what the T-Rump said …”
“I understood it,” came a lone voice from the other side. “It was a parody, bozo.”
“That it was,” said the Adamschiff from the High Road. “Would you like to hear it again?”
A roar of approval went up from the dino nation.
“I’m gonna put you in touch with dinos and not just any dinos. I’m gonna put you in touch with the Williambarr. He’s got the whole weight of the legal dinos behind him and I’m gonna put you in touch with Rudy. You’re gonna love him, trust me. You know what I’m asking, so I’m only going to say this a few more times in a few more ways. And by the way, don’t call me again; I’ll call you when you’ve done what I asked.”
Laughter rang out across the abyss. The T-Rump fumed.
“They’re laughing at me.”
“No, no,” said the Stephaniegrisham. “They’re laughing with him. With him. Not at you.” She bit her tongue.
“Oh. Okay.”
The Jimjordan jumped in.
“Hold on there. What about the Joebiden’s son, the Hunterbiden. He’s over there in the Ukraine Plain, making 50-thousand moolah-moolah leaves in the Ukraine and he doesn’t know a thing. What about that, huh?”
“That’s nothing,” said the T-Rump. “Why, Donny boy, T-Rump Jr., and the Tyvanka, they make more money than that when they’re off the Preservation.”
“T-Rump,” hissed the Jimjordan. You’re killin’ me. You’re killin’ yourself.”
“I can’t kill myself. I could shoot myself in the middle of Crime Square and I’d get away with it.”
“You’d be dead, T-Rump,” said the Stephaniegrisham, straining to cry a fake tear.
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Do the right thing, T-Rump. Resign!”
It was the Betosaurus.
The T-Rump slowly shook his head and lowered his voice.
“I hate that guy.”
The Kellyanneconvixway chimed in.
“Where’s the Mediacircustops accusations of the Oval Dwelling stonewalling now? We know what the T-Rump said to the Zelensky because the T-Rump is s-o-o-o transparent.”
“Ix-nay on the ansparence-tray,” said the Stephenmillerus.
On the High Road, the five Badassasaurae stepped forward and the Elissaslotkin addressed the crowd.
“Having the leader of the Dino Nation use leverage over a foreign dino to get dirt on an opponent, well, as national security dinos, that just cut too close to the bone.”
The dinos across the divide all cringed as one. No dinosaur liked being reminded about their bones. En masse, the dinosaurs began crossing the bridge their tails pointing toward the High Road.
“Send in Rudy!” shouted the T-Rump.
“God, no,” the Mickmulvaney said shuddering.
The Rudygiuliani stumbled out of the Grandoldparty dino pack, waving his arms, bug-eyed and gnashing his teeth.
“I wouldn’t cooperate with the Adamschiff. … I didn’t say that! … I said I will consider it. … I wouldn’t cooperate with the Adamschiff. … I didn’t say that! … I said I will consider it.”
A dino mother leaned down to her little one.
“Don’t listen to the crazy old dino.” She took her dino tot by the hand. “Come along, dear. We’re taking the High Road.”
One reply on “The Great Chasm …”
My dear David,
This is wonderful! Bless your little heart. Just when I’m in the Depths of Depression over the mean, nasty things that disgustingly horrible sick man is saying, along comes your Daily Dig, and I am convulsed in laughter! Great, giant haw-haw’s, too! Just me and your script. Wonderful wonderful!
I’ll definitely KEEP YOU ANOTHER WEEK!
Lubs’nTuds, Mom
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