“My fellow respected Grandoldparty dinos, rest assured, there will be a peaceful transition.”
The Moscowmitch looked over his gathered cohorts, the Bensasse, the Randpaul and the Lindseygraham, a conservative crew that had his back no matter how many dino tots were snatched from their mothers and lost in the wilds, no matter how drastic the steps taken for suppressing the dino vote or however morally corrupt the latest sabotage of dino doctors’ efforts to quell the Coronavirus pandemic. They were as loyal as the Alcaponus Sidekickasaurae species. And then some. The Bensasse raised a short arm.
“So, uh … what the T-Rump said about the ballots being a disaster and there being no transfer, just a continuation of power. Like I told the Mediacircustops, he’s always talking crazy stuff. He’s just kidding, right? Heh-heh.”
No one else was laughing. The Moscowmitch nodded.
“Look, Ben. I’m just putting this peaceful transition malarkey out there so I can get some sleep the next six weeks. I don’t need the Mediacircustops outside my cave 24-7.”
“Yeah,” echoed the Randpaul. “You gotta work on your distraction, Ben. Get your face out there more. Like me this week. I really told off the Tonyfauci at the Coronavirus hearing with my big statistic about us just needing 22% for herd immunity.”
“You mean herd mentality,” said the Bensasse.
“You idiots!” hollered the Moscowmitch.
“But that’s what the T-Rump called it. Herd mentality.”
“When you’re the leader of the free-running dino world,” said the Lindseygraham, “you can say anything and the nation will believe you.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“So, um … that means those 20,000 T-Rump lies reported by the Washingtonpostian dino, they were all actually, uh … lies?”
“Please,” interrupted the Moscowmitch. “Let’s not dwell on the past. His first thousand lies blended in normally with the next thousand and so on. I call it mind-numbing normalization and I don’t need the coronary that comes with explaining it. Crazy stuff. Stick with crazy stuff. Ha-ha. Ho-ho. Hee-hee.”
“Hee-hee.” A nervous laugh from the Bensasse. The Moscowmitch turned away.
“Now then, we’ve got bigger fish-like dinos to fry. The Supreme Dino Court justice to be sworn in. Sight unseen. I like the sound of that. Such power. So random.”
“Like Randompaul, here,” said the Bensasse.
“That’s Randpaul.”
The Moscowmitch frowned.
“Okay, everyone, let’s put our heads together on how to bamboozle Dino Nation one more time on the fraudulent ballot front. Make them forget the pandemic is causing all that extra mail.”
The Moscowmitch began pacing his cave, head down.
“Suppress the vote, suppress the vote, we need to suppress the –”
He looked up into the face of the Adamschiff, standing in the entrance.
“Adam?”
“Did you say suppress the vote?”
“Why, uh, no. I said .. uh, I said …”
“Supper’s the goat,” the Bensasse jumped in. “He said ‘supper’s the goat,’ yessiree.”
“But you don’t like goat, do you, Mitch?”
“No, I don’t. But, you see, uh … my doctor has me doing detox, so I figured I would just eat it and immediately regurgitate it. Clean out my innards once and for all. Kick start the bad stuff, don’t you know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“What in blue blazes are you doing here?”
“Well, I was just talking with the Rachelmaddow the other night and I thought, what the hey, I would bring my message straight to you.”
“We don’t want your damn message,” snapped a seething Lindseygraham, eyes afire. “You just came to dump on the T-Rump, didn’t you? Our dedicated leader who’s a grifter. I mean a horrible dino who’s brilliant, I mean …”
“Lindsey! Shut the hell up!” sputtered the Moscowmitch. “Ahem. Okay, Adam, I’ll agree with half of what Lindsey said. That is, I’m not going to have you badmouthing the T-Rump on my turf.”
“I’m afraid we’re beyond that. No, I’m before you minus the olive branch but with an honest broach.”
“Huh?”
“Discussion. Of sage advice.”
“Oh. No thanks, we’ll pass.”
“Well, I was planning to sing … and there are musical remnants of ideologically influenced undertones of Kentucky Bluegrass. In a couple of notes.”
The ears of the Moscowmitch and the Randpaul perked up.
“Kentucky Bluegrass, huh? You don’t say.”
The low wind whistled and the Adamschiff sang.
He’s breaking all the rules, those that used to bend
You’ve turned a grifter into this unholy friend
I want to tell you, I want to make it clear
You know it, it is time to resign
You know he’s playing a killing game
Ignoring 200-thousand Covid has claimed
He’s so out of touch, he has crossed the line
You know it, it is time to resign
It’s time to resign
It’s time to resign
It’s time to resign
Don’t back his crime
He’s not alright, it’s not too late
This vaccine talk now, he says he’ll pick the date
He’s politicking, calling science blind
You know it, it is time to resign
It’s time to resign
It’s time to resign
It’s time to resign
Don’t back his crime
Transition rules
He plays the fool
What will he do now? And how can you remain true?
Don’t hold him up then, he’s not joking this time
You know it, it is time to resign
It’s time to resign
It’s time to resign (It’s time to resign)
It’s time to resign (Don’t hold him up now)
It’s time to resign (Y-e-e-e-e-a-h)
It’s time to resign (It’s time to resign, now)
It’s time to resign (No, don’t hold him up)
It’s time to resign (It’s time to resign)
It’s time to resign (Y-e-e-e-e-a-h)
It’s time to resign
………………………………
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 