“Abandoned! He abandoned me! How could he? I ask you, where’s the loyalty? Huh, where is it?”
The Moscowmitch knew better than to answer right away. It would just send the Tyrumposaurus around the bend if another dino happened to slip and fall into the conversation.
The T-Rump was fuming at the Markmeadows’ sudden announcement that he would not be seeking another term. Something about having something else to do. Like renovating his split-level cave or languishing belly-up in the lagoon. The Grandoldparty brass expressly stated it had absolutely nothing to do with the T-Rump being impeached the day before. Many in the Oval Dwelling staff had been given the day off following that landmark meltdown.
The Moscowmitch swallowed hard. His job these days was three-fold: hand-holder, butt-kicker and back-stabber.
“Don’t worry, T-Rump. Everything’s going to be okay. You’re taking this impeachment thing much too hard. I mean, it’s only happened three times in history. Oh sure, It may seem like the worst impeachment. Okay, I admit it. It is. But here, to show you how much I’m on your side — because I know you’ll forget about all this tomorrow, I got the Bryanadams to write a song from me for you. He finally agreed after I took my foot off his neck. He said he was uncomfortable about doing it. I suppose from trying to capture my feelings for you in such a personal way, but I always get my way.”
The Moscow Mitch smiled with glee. The T-Rump was confused.
“Your way? You’re not trying to upstage me, are you?”
“No, no. I got my way for you.”
“Because it’s my way. Always my way, right?”
“Right. That’s right. You mean so much to me, T-Rump. I can’t believe we’re still here. Me, you. Especially you. In some crazy way, I owe it all to you. So this song is from me to you. Respect, loyalty, call it what you want. It really all comes down to how I feel about you and this, this past week. Helluva week.”
“Everybody else is writing songs about me. So many songs. Too many. I get tired of listening to them. Still, they write them for me. What took you so long?”
“I just told you. The Bryanadams. Personal. My feelings? For you? Remember? I told him everything he needed to know.”
“Everything?”
“Well, not everything. Plausible deniability is the hallmark of any corrupt dino government if they are to succeed. If you recall what the Putinodon told us.”
“Huh? Oh, sure. Of course.”
“So when the Bryanadams is singing, just remember, the song? It’s from me to you. Me to you. Like I was singing it. Pretend I’m singing it. Okay?”
“Alright already. Get the Bryanadams out here. Sing the song. My song.”
The Moscowmitch raised a thumb to the Bryanadams and the warm wind suddenly changed and the leaves fairly tickled the breeze.
“Me to you.”
“Shut up!”
Look into my eyes — you will see
What you’ve done to me
Sold my heart, sold my soul
Forgot the oath I swore
Trust me no more
Don’t ask for witnesses. What for?
I’m an impartial juror to the core
And though I’m screwed
Everything I do, I do it for you
If you had a heart — you would find
We have so much to hide
She made me what I am, take my wife
If it came to her, I would sacrifice
You want to know our latest moral score?
Just lower the Williambarr to the floor
And though they boo
Everything I do, I do it for you
There’s no shove like your shove
And no other tweet from above
We’re nowhere because you’re there
All the time, in the way
Could you once be smart, maybe?
Oh, you may think a show trial is in store
But I want this quick and done forever more
I would wait for you, I’d wait for you
Like Merrickgarland, yes, I’d wait for you
It sucks. It’s true
Everything I do, oh, I do it for you
………………………………
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 