An innocent, well-meaning Whistleblower dino had come forth five weeks ago with credible, urgent information that pointed a claw to some dino inside the Oval Dwelling, perhaps even the Tyrumposaurus.
“Why the glum face?”
The Tyrumposaurus looked across the Oval Dwelling at the Williambarr squatting in the entrance. The top legal dino in the land had on an especially sour puss.
“It’s not good news.”
“What, did the Brettkavanaugh assault another dino?” …
Day 963 — I Have Esteem … and … Day 967 — Bolton Bolts!
The Mickmulvaney raced out of the Oval Dwelling, short arms waving wildly in the air. He made a bee-line, heading for the Hills of Hopelessness.
“What’s eating him?” the Tyrumpsaurus asked the Stephaniegrisham. …
“C’mere, son. Pull up a rock.”
The Tyrumposaurus watched as his son, the T-Rump Jr. looked around the Oval Dwelling. All the available squatting rocks were either too small or too large to push around.
“Oh,” said the T-Rump. “That’s right. All the rocks are getting washed this week. You’ll have to squat on the floor.”
Day 956 — Fu*ked Up … and … Day 960 — Bamahama Sham-o-rama