That’s Pompeo …

The Mikepompeo entered the dank, dimly lit cave. He was far from home, having traveled to the Italiaroma region of Ubruzzo-Ma-Placenta. The Secretary of Dino State made out the figure of another dino in the cave and approached him.

“Bless you,” said the dino.

“I didn’t sneeze. Say, I was told I could find a beefy Rackosaurus around here.”

“I’m afraid you’re in the wrong place.”

“Well, what do you have then? I’m starved.”

“Ahem. Do you know who I am?”

“Easy pal, I get that all the time in the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir.”

“You’re in the Confessional Cavern. I’m the Popefrancisaurus.”

“Really?”

A solemn nod from the dino Pope.

“Would you like to make a confession?”  

“Well, uh … sure, I suppose I could confess. Something. But, and here’s the kicker. I haven’t done anything wrong. Ever.”

“We’re all sinners. Every last dino. Perhaps that’s what brought you here today.”

The dino Pope’s words hung there like claws tapping on the Mikepompeo’s shoulder. Nudging. Needling.

“Okay, okay. Alright already. If you must know, I was trying to get away from that damn Giuliani.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I want to kill him. Pardon my Italian.” 

“Anything else? I mean, while you’re here?”

“Uh, well … I’ll fess up about a little lie. I just used this ‘visiting my ancestor’s stomping grounds’ thing as an excuse to get away.”

“Come now. We must cleanse your soul. Tell me all your sins. Every last one. I know you can.”

An hour passed. The Mikepompeo was streaming with sweat. The Popefrancisaurus looked over him, beaming at his repentant dino.

“There now, that felt better didn’t it?” He checked his tabulations in the sand. “Now then, your penance will be 484 Frail Berries.”

“Say what?”

“Mustard seed is out of season.”

“Oh.”

The Mikepompeo exited the cave in search of frail berries. He ventured down the main path passing several watering holes, including the Copa-Banana, where the crooning Dinomartino was just rising from his squat for his opening number …

 

Unhappily, T-Rump is king

When time to blame,           

Here’s what he’ll say …

 

When a boob that’s my guy can so easily lie

That’s Pom-pay-oh

When the state once so fine is in deep, deep decline 

That’s Pom-pay-oh

He’s a real ding-a-ling-a-ling, ding-a-ling-ling

And he’ll scream, “Giu-li-an-i!”

Leaks will come drippy-drip each day, drippy-drip away

Like he heard the Zelensky!

When his push-back’s not cool and state jobs are not full 

That’s Pom-pay-oh

When you lack the back bone to admit the well-known

And thereof

When you chalk up a scheme but you know you’re just scheming for more dough

Scuzza me, but you see, s-o-o-o unhappily

That’s Pom-pay-oh

 

When a boob that’s my guy can so easily lie

That’s Pom-pay-oh

When the state once so fine is in deep, deep decline 

That’s Pom-pay-oh

He’s a real ding-a-ling-a-ling, ding-a-ling-ling

And he’ll scream, “Giu-li-an-i!”

Leaks will come drippy-drip each day, drippy-drip away

Like he heard the Zelensky! 

When his push-back’s not cool and state jobs are not full 

That’s Pom-pay-oh

When you lack the back bone to admit the well-known

And thereof

When you chalk up a scheme but you know you’re just scheming for more dough

Scuzza me, but you see, s-o-o-o unhappily

That’s Pom-pay-oh

Pom-pay-oh, that’s Pom-pay-oh

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