“Where’s Rudy?”
It was the popular refrain these days. The Impeachment Days. Or the salad days for unsuspecting herbivores who once trusted their governing dinos. The Grandoldparty defense of whataboutism-hearsay-bad process-repeat had done little to allay the Donkeykongrus’ overland, hill and dale, methodical, calculated attack on the Tyrumposaurus, who squatted nervously in the Oval Dwelling with the Devilnunes, the Jimjordan and the Dougcollins at his tail. The Mickmulvaney had been given another week off. Something about a long walk-about for the ol’ walnut.
The T-Rump’s tongue slithered out and snapped back in his mouth. He wasn’t about to ask again.
“The Rudygiuliani?” scoffed the Dougcollins. “Who needs him?”
“Don’t talk about my lawyer that way. We wouldn’t be here without him.”
“Uh, that’s not a good thing, boss. Rudy’s nothing but trouble. He’s going to be in the Solitary Sinkhole by the end of the month.”
“I give him two weeks,” said the Jimjordan. “Any takers? How ‘bout you, Devil?”
The Devilnunes didn’t answer. He was sulking under a cloud of embarrassment since it had been discovered he’d traveled to the Ukraine Plain prior to the scandal and had then kept quiet about it during the committee hearing even though it was a blatant conflict of interest.
“Where’s Rudy?” asked the Jimjordan before remembering where he was. “Oh, sorry. This distraction-obfuscation thing, been doing it for three years now. Kind of forget where I am sometimes.”
He put a short arm around the Devilnunes.
“Don’t take it so bad, Devil. Hey, how about Dougie here? That Rhodescholarus dino, the Pamelakarlin, she really gob-stomped you yesterday, didn’t she? You insulted her, Dougie! Insulted her!”
The Jimjordan and the Dougcollins exchanged high- and low-fives … about eight inches apart.
“I oughta give you a raise, Doug,” said the T-Rump. “Except, well, you know.”
“I know, I know. You don’t have any moolah-moolah handy.”
The T-Rump never had any moolah handy.
“It’s all tied up on the banks,” he explained for the thousandth time. “Drying out. Should have some leaves for you soon. Next week maybe.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
The Stephaniegrisham poked her nose into the Oval Dwelling. The T-Rump’s nose rose.
“What is it, doll?”
“That, that old battle-dino, the Nancypelosi. She announced that they’re drawing up articles for your impeachment. How dare she! I mean, who does she think she is? That’s not in the Continental Divide!”
“Actually, it is,” said the Dougcollins. “This is getting serious, boss. Who are we gonna call?”
“Where’s Rudy?”
Miles away the Rudygiuliani muddled through his own walk-about. But his was no ordinary walk-about. He was a dino on a mission with just one thing on his mind. A light rain began to fall, the raindrops dancing off the leaves around him. His thoughts turned melodious and he began to sing …
The ugliness of this farce, it seems more baseless and malicious
Than their first attempted coup — a take-down so fictitious!
Fuhgeddabowdit, I can’t lay low, forgotten in Manhattan
I’m going home to find more willing prey
I left my heart in Kiev, Ukraine
Deep in a cave, Shokin calls to me
To be where my little smear and clear got Yovanovitch outta here
And even though I’m under investigation, I don’t care!
I would love to shift the focus to Kiev, Ukraine
And those bad Bidens, unlike my pals, Igor and Lev
When I come home to you, Kiev, Ukraine
Your golden dirt will set the T-Rump free!
……………………………………………………………………
You can hear the musical version of today’s post and previous T-Rump Digs at my podcast site at Podbean. Two new T-Rump tracks every Saturday. Enjoy!
David Belisle 