The Tyrumposaurus tossed and turned in his sleep. Three Cheezbuggabuggas and a couple of Dietcokers battled valiantly in his belly. But that was only half the passed gas. Tomorrow’s big debate with the Joebiden weighed heavily on his mind. He hadn’t prepared anything. Why start now? Oh, he’d tried doing a mock battle with the Rudygiuliani playing the role of the Joebiden but it wouldn’t work because they kept lying to each other. Just the thought of the Joebiden trying to outlie him made his cold blood boil. No, he would go with his gut, once it quieted down.
But there was more. Those damn, conniving, sniveling Mediacircustops were at it again. The Newyorktimesian dino — from his home region! A damning disaster of a story. On a Sunday, no less. Who does such a thing? Damn their skinny-tailed, fake news lies. Now Dino Nation would think he, the glorious T-Rump, actually owed moolah-moolah leaves. Four million. Due in four years. And he was down to his last 700,000, give or take. Hadn’t he given that much to the Tyvanka for showing up every now and then in the Oval Dwelling? Of course he’d overvalued his many luxury caves along the way. The authorities simply forgot to take into account their sentimental value. That was it.
The Mytaxus Returnus skins he shed in a pair of recent Aprils amounted to 750 moolah-moolah leaves each time. A plug-in number. But it was the thought that counted. He didn’t want to be accused of not shedding some tax skin for 13 of 18 years. 11 was bad enough. But now he was in deep dino doo-doo. Four years would fly by. The past four had. But look at what he’d accomplished. Then the debt-collecting dino would be at his door. He had to win the November Battle and do away with term limits or all was lost.
His stomach gurgled anew and he drifted off into the abysmal abyss where dark nightmares of Solitary Sinkhole customs unfolded and Yellow Submarinae dinos roamed, singing an ominous soundtrack that looped in his mind, playing over and over, laying bare the stark truths of the only game plan he had left.
Ah, look at all the only evil
Ah, look at all the only evil
Election rigging jacks up the price with the worst virus spreading again
T-Rump’s playing mean
Base for the bimbo, swearing in case it may keep him as czar for four more
Armed for a war
All the only evil
All under T-Rump’s thumb
All the only evil
How could they be so wrong?
Robber McConnell fighting absurd for the battleground legalese dear
It becomes clear
Look at him smirking, jamming the court with a judge, what he once called unfair
How does he dare?
All the only evil
All under T-Rump’s thumb
All the only evil
How could they be so wrong?
Ah, look at all the only evil
Ah, look at all the only evil
Election rigging, Day of the Lurch, they all scurried, all strong with his name
The mail then came
After the frenzy, Biden is first, T-Rump stands and he blocks with a wave.
Democracy’s grave
All the only evil
(Ah, look at the only evil)
All under T-Rump’s thumb
All the only evil
(Ah, look at the only evil)
How could they be so wrong?
………………………………
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 