An anxious Tyrumposaurus took a quick peek outside before ducking his head back inside the Oval Dwelling. No dangerous dinos. Yet. He was on strict cave-based security status since the protest outside had gone from peaceful to disobey-the-curfew to rabble-rouser hour. His security dinos had considered digging him a hole to hide in but his fear of germs quickly ruled that out. He’d promptly fired the Dino who came up with that brilliant idea.
He took another peek.
“Anybody out there? I know you’re out there. If you can hear me, Go away! And take your fake news, enemy-of-the-dinos Mediacircustops with you.”
He took refuge back inside the cave. Dammit. I haven’t slept a wink in five nights, I’m so paranoid. They’re all out to get me. This is all about them trying to take me down.
“Ahem.”
It was the Mincepencenow.
“Actually, there are 25 other dino regions where peaceful protests have all gone sideways as well.”
“Your point? They all still hate me with a passion. They’re all Antifasaurae, every last one of them. Domestic terrorists, they are. I’m surrounded by domestic terrorists!”
He took another peek. He thought he heard something rustling.
“Release the hounds!”
“Uh, T-Rump, we don’t have any hounds. You got rid of them because it was an Obamarus thing, remember?”
“Sure, sure. I knew that. Geez, how long is this going to go on? It’s really starting to affect my flogging back swing.”
“Don’t you worry, oh Great One, I will be here every step of the way. You can count on me.”
The T-Rump’s scaly face wrinkled.
“Now that you mention it, you haven’t left my side now for what, five days? What’s up with that?”
“You know I’m here for you, T-Rump. I just want to be close, really close. Right. Here. You know, in case something, uh … happens.”
The T-Rump pointed outside the cave.
“That’s it. Out! I don’t need any dino in here trying to upstage me.”
“But, T-Rump. It’s the order of succession.”
“Great. Another order I have to rinse.”
“You mean rescind.”
“Easy there. Do you know how many dinos I’ve fired for correcting me?”
“437.”
“Don’t be 439.”
“Don’t you mean …”
“You’re forgetting mother.”
“Good gawd, please don’t tell her.”
The Mincepencenow glanced nervously outside the Oval Dwelling.
“But what if they attack me?”
“Oh, don’t you start. They want to throw me out a heckuva lot more than they want you. Let’s be clear. I’m the victim here. Now run along home to mother. Go. Shoo.”
The Mincepencnow meekly yet stealthily exited the Oval Dwelling. The T-Rump turned around just in case his number two dino should turn around with eyes begging for mercy. He had no mercy for begging eyes. None whatsoever. The T-Rump remained stock-still for an extra fifteen seconds to make sure the Mincepencenow was gone. He turned to face the entrance.
A sharp, smart, bright-eyed dino stood facing him.
“A-a-a-c-c-k-k! … Who are you?”
“I’m a survivor. The survivor.”
“Oh, really? Don’t push that Bohemian psycho-babble crap on me.”
“No, seriously. That’s what my friends call me.”
“You can’t fool me. You’re the extreme, radical, liberal, farthest-of-the-far left.”
“Does it show?”
The survivor smiled, baring his gleaming teeth. The T-Rump cringed. Was that false pain in his bone spurs?
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to bite you. I’m a peaceful, law-abiding dino.”
“How do I know that?”
“Well, I could sing to you.”
“I don’t have time for that. Don’t you know I have the attention span of a single cell amoeba?”
“No brain, eh?”
“I think I proved my point.”
“Do you remember what I just said?”
“Uh, no.”
“I mentioned a song?”
“Is it another stupid protest song?”
“Aren’t they all? And here you are, a captive audience.”
“I’m not captive. I’m just … hanging around. What makes your song different?”
“It’s about the very spirit of your actions these past few weeks in the Oval Dwelling.”
The T-Rump yawned.
“And it has a scary opening.”
“Hah. I don’t believe you.”
The song began with a jolting bolt of a beat.
“A-a-a-c-c-k-k!”
Hiding out, only to tweet
About attack dog advances
No empathy, other leaders would meet
These dark times with the words to survive
His allies say, he’s not up to the task
He tries to fashion a story
He’s lost his grip, wants these riots to last
He will fight just to keep them alive
It’s the lie of the shyster, it’s the chill of his might
Stirring a cult-like religious revival
As a proclaimed protector chokes his prey in daylight
And he’s catchin’ us all with the lie of the shyster
Doubling down, projection complete
Not too tough, never manly
Pelosi says I kind of ignore his tweets
They’re just division he wants to drive
It’s the lie of the shyster, it’s the chill of his might
Stirring a cult-like religious revival
As a proclaimed protector chokes his prey in daylight
And he’s catchin’ us all with the lie of the shyster
Virus here, no mask to stop
Has no guts, just wants glory
All distraction, his whine goes to the top
A disgrace he became forty-five
It’s the lie of the shyster, it’s the chill of his might
Stirring a cult-like religious revival
As a proclaimed protector chokes his prey in daylight
And he’s catchin’ us all with the lie of the shyster
The lie of the shyster
The lie of the shyster
The lie of the shyster
The lie of the shyster
………………………………
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 