Super Tuesday …

What the hell was that? Would somebody please tell her what had just happened? The Joebiden, the Berniesanders, the Elizabethwarren – face it, every dino with a pulse – had roared past her in yesterday’s big day of Donkeykongrus leadership races.

It was The Wednesday After and the Tulsigabbard stared in wonder at her soul mate and pet rock Lulu, who sat there stone-faced.

“I feel your warmth and sympathy,” she said, stroking Lulu’s smooth side.

They sat quietly ruminating in Tulsi’s makeshift battle campaign headquarters. It was a small dank cave they shared with Sluggo, a four-foot-long, one-foot-wide slug. Rent was cheap, fifty moolah-moolah leaves a month. The only drawback was that Sluggo was always under foot. He claimed to be a Waikiki Leech but Tulsi knew better. Poor Sluggo sucked at sticking to anything. Hence he was always on the ground. In the way. He inched her way now.

“So? You pullin’ out?”

“What do you think?”

“You really think the Putinodon is going to come waltzing in with a million dinos at the last minute to carry the day with you?”

“Nothing’s impossible. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Sluggo nodded to Lulu with a smirk.

“Because Lulu hasn’t told you yet to get out.”

“You leave Lulu out of this.”

“She can’t talk, Tulsi.”

“Lulu’s a selective mute.”

“Lulu’s a rock.”

“I told you not to call her that. You know she’s my therapy pebble.”

Tulsi wanted to kick Sluggo right in the … wherever. Except her foot might get stuck. She cringed at the thought.

“Sluggo? You suck.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Just then a stone rolled into the cave.  The slug brightened.

“Hey, a rolling stone.” He looked to Lulu. “Someone you know?”

More stones rolled in.

“The whole gang’s here now.”

The incoming stones were the result of a passing entourage of dozens of Donkeykongrus dinos.

“Aren’t you going to go see who it is?” asked Sluggo.

“I know who it is. Another stupid parade for some damn Donkeykongrus dino not named me. What do I  have to do to get my message through to all these walnut brains?”

Sluggo looked from her to the stones around them and back to her.

“I’m going to guess that was a rhetorical question?”

Tulsi shook her head and sank dejectedly back into her squat, burying her head in her hands. Sluggo inched his way through the stones.

“Hey, guys. Since we’re all here. Let’s sing her a song. To cheer her up.”

Tulsi, doubtful, looked up from her funk. Nobody sang to her any more. Something about the angry glare in her eyes.

But real stones don’t sing of course. A song however did reach inside the Tulsigabbard headquarters, a song sung by the Donkeykongrus faithful outside as they tromped down the path. Their song came in loud and clear. Too clear.

 

He’d forever say his time would come

They’d say his chances were slim and none

Fourteen states in sight

His future once so bright

Then from south

This phoenix rose

Goodbye, Super Tuesday

Joe did hang his name on you

Pete and Amy, you quit to make way

Still he’s gonna kiss you

Don’t question why he leads good ol’ Bernie

It’s Texas, Arkansas and Tennessee 

It just seems insane

The T-Rump did sprain his brain

The smallest cost

For nothing lost

Goodbye, Super Tuesday

Joe did hang his name on you

Pete and Amy, you quit to make way

Still he’s gonna kiss you

Bloomberg knew he’d lose, to Joe he’ll say

Catch your dreams because I’ll pay your way

Trying all this time

Warren wonders how she was left behind

Ain’t life so kind?

Goodbye, Super Tuesday

Joe did hang his name on you

Pete and Amy, you quit to make way

Still he’s gonna kiss you

Goodbye, Super Tuesday

Joe did hang his name on you

Pete and Amy, you quit to make way

Still he’s gonna kiss 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!

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