The crotchety old dino, the Moscowmitch, a.k.a. the Kentucky Gobbler, waggled a claw at the scrum of Mediacircustops.
“Haggle, haggle, haggle. There will be no haggling. No haggling, do you hear me? I will simply not allow it. Haggle, haggle, haggle. It’s a bad, bad word for negotiating and you all know how I hate to negotiate. Do you think I’m here to make a deal with the Nancypelosi? Of course not! Do you think I’m crazy? Don’t answer that. So, no haggle, haggle, haggle. I’m sick of it. Haggle, haggle, haggle. Somebody please hit me. Don’t make me say that word again.”
The Mediacircustops snickered. The Kentucky Gobbler was a natural. But their chuckles turned serious as the Grandoldparty mouthpiece, the Dougcollins appeared behind him.
“Excuse me, Moscowmitch, I just have to let any and all Mediacircustops in on my latest walnut brain flash — that the Donkeykongrus demanding to know why the Tyrumposaurus had the Soleimani done away with can only mean — ipso facto — that they love terrorist dinos. Huh? Am I right or am I right? C’mon, work with me on this. Can you see it? I mean, isn’t it obvious? When they say the Soleimani was a bad dino, well, that’s just Bigfatty-Piglatin dino-speak for, ‘he’s better than a Goldstar family dino.’ I’m not way out on a limb with this, am I?”
“Okay, Doug,” said the Moscowmitch. “I’m not going to say you’re out of your tree, but this is my limb.” He moved back in front of his Grandoldparty colleague, who nodded nervously to the Mediacircustops.
“I’ll be leaving now — but stay tuned for my next outrageous claim.”
“Now then,” continued the Moscowmitch. “We have the dinos, all the dinos we need to begin the impeachment trial in the Sin Hut. We don’t need the Donkeykongrus. It’s as clear as my long, impeccable career. Whatever they say, my response will be that we are never going to do that. Haggle, haggle, haggle.”
It slipped out like an embarrassing long burp. He covered his mouth with his hand. His eyes widened as he saw an approaching dino.
“Chuckschumer? What are you doing here?”
“I bring a message from the dinos, for the dinos … all across the great Milkanhoney Preservation.”
“Oh, no. Not another song. The songs — the songs … say it ain’t so.”
“Oh, but it is. Hit it, boys.”
And a trio of sharp-tailed dinos behind the Chuckschumer laid down a nifty backbeat riff of 38 special beats.
You see it all around you
The T-Rump gone mad
And usually you’d wait but then too
He’s Putin’s comrade
And I find we have two articles left
There’s more to come, so help me
Just hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
You’re the lady we believe in
You leave Moscow Mitch seethin’
He’s so damn sleazy
And so far outta touch
He’s there to deter
To obstruct so much
And I find we have two articles left
There’s more to come, so help me
Just hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
You’re the lady we believe in
Only you can keep the truth breathin’
Don’t let it slip away
Fundamental rule
Don’t let their lies get in the way
Yeah, yeah, yeah
You see it all around you
The T-Rump gone mad
And usually you’d wait but then too
It’s really that bad
Just hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
You’re the lady we believe in
To stop Moscow Mitch from thievin’
So hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep
You’re gonna keep control
So hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
Hold on, Nancy
And don’t let go
If you sing them nightly
You’re gonna keep control
………………………………
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 