Category: Satire

The pain. Oh, the pain. The Tyrumposaurus had a splitting, smack-between-the-eyes, double-migraine headache that had him seeing stars, stripes and the red glare of ex-PLO-sion … after … ex-PLO-sion. That damn Joebiden. A pox on the Donkeykongrus. And all his namby-pamby Grandoldparty dinos, afraid to call out the widespread fraud that had stolen the election from him. He was loath to admit they had cheated better than him. They would pay. They would all pay for this gross negligence of … of … fair play? He struggled with the phrase, even the concept, because it was a rather moot point with him.

In between the grimacing mental blasts of red glare, he took stock of the several milestones he’d accomplished thus far in his scorched earth policy. Because if he wasn’t happy, there would be no good cheer in Dino Nation. Not a hint of a smile. 

“Make them wait for the Covid relief package,” said a wee voice in the back of his head before being shot down by another red glare zinger. 

Benefits had already lapsed for millions of idle dinos. Check. If he didn’t sign, the dino government would soon shut down. The focus was squarely on him. Where it should be. The Davidperdue and the Kellyloeffler were in very awkward spots in the Georgia Orchard Sin Hut run-off next week. They needed him badly. Check. Pardons galore to his cronies to show the Muellersavus who was boss even if the Williambarr had recently exited stage left mumbling some face-saving fake news rhetoric.

But the T-Rump’s dino accomplices were abandoning him as he had 24 days left to rule. He made a mental note to remind a staffer, if any should be brave enough to come out from hiding, to research and triple-check all available avenues he could venture down to make life as miserable as possible for the everyday, garden-chewing-variety Donkeykongrus dino. Rumbling in his head aside, this was the perfect storm. Covid was doing it’s destructive job. He wasn’t doing his.

Yet he had made his point because it was his show. He’d pushed Dino Nation to the brink of mass riot. Alright already. The waiting game was over. He’d sign the bill. Not in weakness however. With strength. He’d sign it with lies. 

The sharp pangs of his headache finally began backing off, easing enough in their intensity to allow him to marshall more devilish thoughts. Within minutes he was back to normal, growling under his breath, ready to go on the attack. Headaches were the seed to his temper. What didn’t kill him made him yearn for more power, more destruction. To pass on said headache to others more deserving of it. This was the stage of negotiating — the art of the deal — to which he had lowered himself. Headaches all around. Migraine. Your-graine. 

He’d sign but with an attention-grabbing addendum. Tell them they will have to remove wasteful items from the bill. Make them add vaccine moolah-moolah and much, much more. That’s vague enough. Increase the payment to 2,000. And last but most importantly, make them focus strongly on the very substantial voter fraud which took place in the election. None of this would ever happen of course, but it showed his base exactly where he stood. Winning.

He smirked at his latest spin-to-win strategy and burst into song.

I’m fixing a hole where the pain gets in

And stops my mouth from slandering

A friend or foe

I’m killing the chance for those that need more

They can take up panhandling

Away they go

And it really doesn’t matter if

I’m wrong I’m right

I’ve just begun to fight

I’ve just begun

See my allies sitting there

They don’t like me, don’t want me in

And worry how I will settle the score

I’m hating the doom in a sorrowful way

And then my mouth is slandering

The bad words flow

And it really doesn’t matter if

I’m wrong I’m right

I’ve just begun to fight

I’ve just begun

Unemployed run aground

Military can never please me

Sign the stimulus, what for?

I’m marking the time for I can still pull strings

To make your cloud the darkest grey

And get your dough

I’m fixing a hole where the pain gets in

Stops my mouth from slandering

A friend or foe

How low I’ll go

I’m fixing a hole where the pain gets in

Stops my mouth from slandering

A friend or foe

How low I’ll go

……………………………

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!

“This is The Big One.”

The Tyrumposaurus stopped and stared at the Markmeadows.

“Yes, oh, yes, indeed. Very big,” the dino chief of staff feigned excitement.

Inside he groaned. Every day was the big one. Every moment was the big one. He prayed each night that T-Rump’s heart would suffer the big one.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir, 19 dino attorneys general were gathered as the Kenpaxton of Lone Star-Texas reassured them that they’d made the right choice in coming together to contest the elections in Georgia Orchard, Pennsylvaneus, Michigonia and Dairyland.

“Because that’s what good dino regions do,” the Kenpaxton went on. “They keep a close eye on other dinos’ votes because you can’t trust those Donkeykongrus dinos. Nope. It takes a Grandoldparty dino region to know what’s right, right?”

The other dinos nodded their heads robotically. It really didn’t matter what came out of the Kenpaxton’s mouth. They were all there because the T-Rump had a foot on their tail and a tweet on their future. They shuddered at the doom and gloom awaiting the other eight Grandoldparty attorneys general who were not in attendance. The T-Rump would hunt them down.

“Need I remind you, that the T-Rump was winning the vote in the middle of the night — while our dino mamas and babies slept! — and the Joebiden, well, at that point he had less than a one in quadrillion to the fourth power chance of winning. I got that little number from the Kayleighmcenany, who’s a pretty little number herself, she is.”

“So you see, my fellow dino attorneys, the battleground regions violated the rules set forth by their duly elected dinos-on-the-ledge-later, thereby violating our Continental Divide. The Divide, we’re talking about here. We gotta maintain the Divide. By ignoring both dino region and Milkanhoney Preservation rules, these regions have not only tainted, tarnished and vandalized the integrity of their own dinos vote, but of Lone Star-Texas, bless her broncosaurus-bustin’ heart, and every other region that held we-don’t-cheat elections. Their failure to abide by the rules casts a dark, dark shadow of death, I mean doubt, over the outcome of the entire kit-n-caboodle election. We now ask that the Dino Supreme Court step in to do something about this gargantuan, egregious error … that I’m holdin’ on by a thread here to keep from bawling my damn eyes out.”

The Markbrnovich, the dino AG from Zona Cactus yawned. He raised a short arm to make conversation.

“Yes, Mark. You were a little late getting to the party, weren’t you? 17 dinos here and then — poof! — you popped in.”

“I can leave.”

“No, no. Stop scaring me. We’re glad you came, aren’t we, dinos?”

A few perfunctory nods. The Markbrnovich continued.

“Uh, Ken, didn’t the Langleyops dinos raid your cave today? Again?”

“Oh, that. No worries, a little misunderstanding. I forgot to pay off a couple of dinos. Let’s focus on the situation at hand, shall we? You know, win The Big One?”

But even as a lapdog to the T-Rump, the Markbrnovich possessed a modicum of legal acumen.

“You’re doing this for the pardon, Ken, aren’t you? C’mon, admit it.”

Who me? The Kenpaxton didn’t say it. He didn’t have to. It was written all over his face. The 18 other dino attorneys general had seen that guilty look on the faces of thousands of dinos in their court caves. The expression on the Kenpaxton’s face quickly changed to a smirk.

“So sue me. I’m sorry. Did I say that?”

The dino laughter was interrupted by the arrival of the Johncornyn, the aging Lone Star-Texas Sin Hut dino. He spotted the much younger Kenpaxton and stepped before him as an elder might.

“Ken, you’ve got to stop this nonsense. You’re making me look bad.”

“John? How could you? In front of my attorney general partners in crime. I mean arms. You’re from Lone Star-Texas. Like me, remember?

The Johncornyn paused, measuring his words. 

“Ken, how do I say this? I – I … I’ve gotta sing. I mean, I can’t take any more of this crap. You’re a real nutjob, Ken. A crook, a low-life, a two-bit hood. There I said it. Anyway. I need this memorialized. So here goes …

Utah then

In-dee-anna

An’ Mississippi

Dakotas, why?

Chasing a felon

Paxton’s pack willing

Too blind to see braille

Are you freakin’ high?

Hey Nineteen

You have no chance together

No, you can’t stop or stall

Please just move along

The vote is in stone

Hey Nineteen

That’s you, Tennessee

Kansas, Nebraska

Arizona

And Missouri

South Carolina

We think you’re crazy

You’re not just growing old

Hey Nineteen

West Virginia, you are bombin’

No, you can’t stop or stall

You got this all wrong

The vote is in stone

Christ.

It’s no good

(Groan)

Hate a little lower now

The truth be told

It’s not The Big One

You are a king’s ding-a-lings

Say it again

The truth be told

It’s not The Big One

You are a king’s ding-a-lings

The truth be told

It’s not The Big One

You are a king’s ding-a-lings

You have no chance together

You guys have all the gall

………………………………

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!

It was all very official looking. Sobering almost, in its quiet splendor, this special Michigonian hearing on its immaculately kept, politico-dino grounds. The hearing had been diligently scheduled to deal with a matter of voter fraud brought before region officials, including the very serious-looking Stevenjohnson. The Rudygiuliani’s long-awaited, all-star witness, the Melissacarone finally had her say.

“The po-po-poll book is completely off. Completely off.”

The Stevenjohnson puzzled.

“Off by 30,000?”

“I’d say that poll book is off by over a hundred thousand. That poll book?  Why don’t you look at the registered voters on there? How many registered voters are on there? Did you, do you even know the answer to that?”

“No, I guess that, I’m trying to get to the bottom of this.”

“Zero. Zero. There’s zero.”

“So, my question then is … if the …”

“Guess how many, wait … what about, what about, how, whatta whatta what about the turnout rate? A hundred and twenty percent?”

The Rudygiuliani reached across, digging his claws into her thighs, trying to cut her off. It was no use.  It only elicited a goofy laugh from her.

“Rudy, stop it. Later, okay, hon?”

The Stevenjohnson continued.

“So the poll book number, there’s two things that could happen here. Either the poll book number, each ballot counted multiple times … there’s two options. Option number one is that the poll book numbers are not going to match the actual …”

“They don’t.”

“But not by thousands and thousands of votes. That’s not what we see right now.”

“You take a look again. Take a look again.”

“Option number two is that they essentially were filling in names of dinos who didn’t vote.”

“Dead dinos too?”

“My question is, we’re not seeing the poll book off by 30,000 votes. That’s not the case.”

“Well, what’d you guys do?” She slurred her words like a dino sliding slowly down a muddy path. “Take it and uh, do something crazy to it?”

The Stevenjohnson shook his head.

“I’m just saying the numbers are not off by 30,000 votes, so …”

“I know what I saw.”

“When you say they’re filling in …”

“I know what I saw … and I signed something saying that if I’m wrong, I can go to prison. Did you?”

She threw him a petulant look of disdain. He didn’t flinch.

“I’m asking a question here. I just want to keep following back up with the poll books. Are we saying that the poll book is either wildly off or that they are …”

“Wildly off.”

“Or that they are filling in names?”

“It’s wildly off. It’s wildly off. And dead dinos voted. And illegals voted so that’s my answer.”

“Nothing else?”

“Well, there is — hiccup! — one last thing …”

A song rolled into and around the cave. The Melissacarone rose from her rock to sing. 

Rudy keeps me handy

Cuz I think T-Rump is dandy

I’m tryin’ to grab the headlines

Swingin’ on the grape vine

So join me for a drink, boys

Not gonna play with sharp toys

You’ll have to tell me what I know 

What do I say?

I’m a wild, crazy wreck, more kool-aid, this way! 

Have a drink on me

Yeah, have a drink on me

Yeah, have a drink on me

Have a drink on me

I’m really quite exciting

In the proper lighting

If your ballot count is shorter

I’ll be your new reporter

Yeah, so let’s go sling some slime

Then happy hour on your dime

You’ll have to tell me what I know

What do I say?

I’m a wild, crazy wreck, more kool-aid, this way!

Have a drink on me

Yeah, have a drink on me

Yeah, have a drink on me

Have a drink on me

Have a drink on me

Have a drink on me

Have a drink on me

C’mon!

Gonna say I found

Ballots underground

Get another wig

One that doesn’t stink

Gonna ask you why

Till you think I’m high

Can you see white noise?

Lost my poise, have a drink on me

Have a drink on me

Have a drink on me

Have a drink

On

Me

………………………………

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!

The lone Lobosaurus stopped and looked around. He’d been trudging along head down for some time and evidently strayed from the Michigonian neighborhood path. He was nearsighted and a little hard of hearing, a dino with pre-existing conditions, if you will. He focused as best he could on his new, foreign surroundings. What he saw gave him immediate pause and his tail a quick, defensive twitch.  

Before him was a pack of over 200 angry, phlegm-spewing, knuckle-dragging Militiasaurae dinos who looked like they were angry at the world for most of the day. Uh-oh. Lobo was definitely on the wrong side of the path. He’d accidentally stumbled into a Stop the Steal rally for dinos who were positive in their beliefs — based on no evidence — that the Joebiden had stolen the election from the T-Rump. The Lobosaurus quietly turned about face and begin to slowly slink away. Too late.

“You there!” hollered one of the Militiasaurae. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

The big dino had a long scar along his chin, caused the week before when he’d tried to eat a Raptor that wasn’t dead yet. The Lobosaurus tapped his own lower lip thoughtfully.

“I – I think I’m in the wrong place.”

“Is that so? Is there something wrong with this place?”

“Pardon?”

“Who did you vote for?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s privileged information.”

“Aha! You’re a Joebiden dino. You’re in the wrong place, pal.”

“That’s what I was saying. S-o-o-o, I really should be getting back to my cave before another dino moves in. You know how tough finding a cave is these days.

The Militiasaurus held up a hand. 

“Not so fast.” He looked around. “Hey, guys! We got a live one here.”

In the dino world, that pretty much is the last thing one hears before being eaten alive.

A minute later the Lobosaurus was surrounded by 200 sinister-looking, freely salivating dinos. Chin Scar nudged him with his tail.

“Okay, Joebiden guy, admit it. Your guy’s a fraud. He stole the election. He robbed us blind.”

“Well, if what you say is true, why would he go to all that trouble and not change any dinos in the Sin Hut?”

200 pairs of Militiasaurae eyes en masse rolled one way, then the other in communal consternation. Chin Scar stamped his big foot down.

“Don’t listen to him. That’s Mediacircustops fake news.”

“You can’t change the facts.”

“Except we don’t like your facts. We’re doing quite nicely playing connect the dots with QAnonymousarus theories. Venezuela-Wayla, socialism … and that dead Hugochavez dino. You guys are guilty as sin. So guilty we don’t need that Sidneypowell dino any more.”

“Guilty of what? I’d welcome any evidence.”

“Don’t get smart with us.”

“But the dino authorities, that’s what they go by … you know, legitimate authority?”

Lobo didn’t like the look in the Militiasaurae eyes. Chin Scar chuckled.

“Let’s just say we’re standing by, as the T-Rump called it.”

“Uh, before you all run off and do something you might regret, if I might offer some advice?”

“Oh, and what would that be?” 

That November came a day

When T-Rumpers tried to sway

And how frauds, cheats and liars

Was their common refrain

All the courts told them where to go

For attempted recount overthrow

Cuz they only wish

T-Rump was back in power again

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Evil spreadin’ across the land

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

How did this get so out of hand?

Now they did try to stall

But ol’ Judge Brann, he made his call

Said they stitched theories together

Just like Frankenstein’s friend

Six million voters they would shirk

Then call it a Pennsylvania quirk 

Pass the bananas

We have a republic to mend

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Evil spreadin’ across the land

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Whatever happened to the master plan?

Now America had its say

But Missus Murphy’s still in the way

Though it was Esper and Krebs got fired

Cuz they complained

Covid’s killed a quarter million or so

So now we gotta turn to Joe

Forget their brazen bid, how to tell’em

This is insane

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Evil spreadin’ across the land

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Time to stand up, Republicans

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Evil spreadin’ across the land

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Democracy to beat the band 

………………………………

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!

“C’mon, Emily. Ya gotta do it. It’s been twelve days for crying out loud.”

The Emilymurphy shook her head as she had for each and every one of those twelve days. As the administrator of the Gee-Yes-Aye Swamp Dino Work Force, it was her duty to give the go-ahead, allowing the new leader to access all the dino necessities before moving into the Oval Dwelling in two months.

That new leader would be the Joebiden, who was standing before her.

“Here’s the deal, Emily. If you recognize me as your leader we can get this show on the road and I can begin helping dinos of all stripes.”

She frowned. The pressure on her was unbearable. The T-Rump had told her he would make her life a living hell if she so much as lifted a finger for the Joebiden. She hadn’t signed up for this. She brightened. That was it. She’d find a new job. She knew the T-Rump had threatened to run any dino out of the jungle if he caught them looking for a new job. No, instead they had to plan events for months down the road that weren’t even going to  happen.

“Emily, speak to me. Dinos are dying. I can help them. My whole team wants to help them. It’s up to you, Emily.”

She bit her lip. She was getting a migraine. Dino migraines were extra bad because their brains were smaller. Less space, more intense. No room for guilt. Only pain.

“Why are you doing this, Emily? The past four transitions have gone fine. Face it. The T-Rump lost. It’s time to hit the road, Jack. Not you, I mean the T-Rump. Sure, he can stay for another couple of months. You know what I mean.”

She knew the T-Rump wanted to stay in the Oval Dwelling forever. Would he ask her to hold out for an end to term limits? It would make her job easier. Her stomach growled. It was after lunch and she hadn’t eaten yet. She looked the dino leader-elect up and down. He was skinny, but there was still meat on the bone. Two burly dinos lurked in the background. Damn his security detail. 

“Emily, I’ll stand her all day if I have to. You know why? Because all I can otherwise do is meet with dinos who aren’t in the right position, talk about anything except the things I want to talk about and generally keep losing valuable time I need to get this Dino Nation back up and running by the time I move into the Oval Dwelling. It’s called a transition, Emily. Not cool-your-heels-while-I-sit-on-my-butt.

Her face flushed. Oh, he was asking for it. But she wouldn’t say a word. No way. If she opened her mouth she had no idea what she would even say, she’d be so embarrassed she’d burst into tears and it would get back to the T-Rump that she was weak and … 

“Emily, I took the liberty of bringing an old friend with me.”

Uh-oh, what was he up to now? Was this some kind of trick? He smiled that gracious, exuberant 78-year-old Joebiden grin at her.

“I’d like you to meet my good buddy …”

Out of the bushes stepped the Paulmccartney.

The Emilymurphy’s heart skipped a beat. And two. And three. 

Maybe I’m amazed at the way he deludes his mind

And maybe I’m afraid of a way he won’t lose 

Maybe I’m amazed at they way he turns things on a dime

He has us on the line

Maybe I’m amazed at the harm he really could do 

Maybe Lindsey Graham, maybe he’s the biggest fan 

Who’s in Cruz and Pompeo’s ring

They’ve fallen under his dark command

Maybe that’s the plan

And maybe he’s the only liar who leaves them lingering 

Maybe sow the bitterness, fire-fanned

Maybe that’s the plan, maybe he has more to ban 

Who refuse to soothe his ego

That is his only true demand 

Maybe that’s the plan

And maybe he’s one who’d lay waste to democracy

Maybe we need to all join hand-in-hand

Maybe I’m amazed at the way my questions come to mind

Maybe I’m amazed at the urgency too

Maybe I’m amazed at the way he won’t sing his swan song

We’ve waited oh-so long

Maybe I’m amazed at the way his power grew 

………………………………

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!

The Rudygiuliani peeked into the Oval Dwelling for a moment, withdrew and returned to his conversation with the Markmeadows.

“He’s been in there a long time. You sure he’s okay?”

“I think he’s working up the courage to concede. I mean, I certainly hope so. Don’t you?”

“Good gawd, no. He just hired me to defend him. Take the lead on all his legal stuff. Whatever comes down the pike. Lord knows I need the work. To keep ahead of my own legal bills. By the way, when’s the last time he ate?”

“He hasn’t eaten all day.”

“This must be really hitting him hard.”

“It’s tragic. His skin is even changing colour. He’s turning grey. Looking old. It’s doing him in, I tell you.”

“Well, he did have a lot of power.” The Rudygiuliani sighed. “Ah, I used to have power. Now I’m just a glorified, googly-eyed, rabbit hole diver.”

“And a legal dino.”

“Oh, I’m afraid those days are long gone, brother. But don’t tell him that.”

“So, let me get this right. You’re … grifting a grifter?”

“I learned from the best. It’s all in the cheesy grin, bravado and hand-waving. Especially the hand-waving.”

“Did you know he lost 9 court cases yesterday?”

“Well, it’s a good thing I wasn’t representing him yesterday then, wasn’t it?”

“Tell me you’re not going to use the ‘non-zero number’ defense for Grandoldparty dino witnesses to ballot-counting.”

“Damn! They’re onto that one?”

“And please, no more Mediacircustops events at Four Seasons Total Landscaping.”

“But their rates were so good.”

“Rudy, tell me you have a strategy to defend the T-Rump.”

“Well, heh-heh, between you and me, I’m just planning to wing it, go with the flow, y’know.” He paused to look around. “Because when you get right down to it, we don’t have a bloody prayer. C’mon, Mark. Be realistic. If he thinks he can get away with this, the T-Rump is living in a fantasy world.”

That same T-Rump appeared at the entrance.

“I resemble that remark.”

Sitting tight, as I please, it’s my regal rite 

Legal fight, I am tying up their hopeless plight

See me rant if only to incite

Count again til you get it right

Day and night, righteous battle, civil war tonight, yo 

Outta site, I’ll just hide til Covid hits its height

Biden slight, his transition, never see the light

See my guys bow, they don’t ask why 

Undermine, attack the truth and lie

What a life, would be cooler if you’d take my wife, take my wife 

All those votes belong to me

Defy reality

This is my fantasy

Can’t you see what that crazy Biden’s doing to me

Life is just my fantasy, don’t you love my fantasy life

Life is evidence-free, don’t you love my fantasy life             

So forget all except me

What conspiracy?

This is my fantasy

Can’t you see what that crazy Biden’s doing to me

Life is just my fantasy, don’t you love my fantasy life

Life is evidence-free, don’t you love my fantasy life

Life is just my fantasy, don’t you love my fantasy life

Life is evidence-free, don’t you love my fantasy life

Say so!

Say so!

………………………………

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!

“Daddy, listen to me.”

“Ahem.” The Tyvankanatrix glanced sideways at the Kushneratops, then back to her father.

“I mean us, listen to us. This has gone on long enough. It’s been ten days since you … how can I say this gracefully? You – you had 72 million dinosaurs line up behind you. You did wonderful. I’m so proud of you, daddy. But it just wasn’t quite enough. It’s obviously all those dinos’ fault that you … that you didn’t emerge victorious.”

“Are you trying to tell me I lost?” He fairly spat the word out.

“Oh, no, daddy. It was the 72 million dinos who lost. They’re going to lose a great, world-renowned leader.”

“Damn those dinos,” the Kushneratops sneered. “Those small, ungrateful, spineless tail-waggers who couldn’t drag nine neighbors to the polls like they were supposed to.”

“Don’t you two worry,” the T-Rump growled. “This isn’t over yet.”

“What are you going to do, daddy?”

“Fire them all! Every last one of them. Esper. Gone. Wray, Haspell, they’ll never know what hit them. I’ll get dinos in there so that when I say jump, they’ll be doing high dives into the lagoon.”

“Then what?” asked his son-in-law.

“What do you mean, then what? I’ll leverage my position to make maximum moolah-moolah leaves like I’ve been doing since day one.”

“Daddy, sorry to interrupt, but another 150,000 dinos got sick with Covid yesterday.”

“Yes, but did you see how bad the Foxsquawkbox dinos are now? They’re the sick ones. They are nothing without me. Nothing. Tell me again how I can be Dino Nation’s leader in four years.”

The Tyvanka and the Kushneratops looked at each other. They’d had The Talk, the one where they debated who was going to have to tell T-Rump he was going straight to the Solitary Sinkhole when he moved out of the Oval Dwelling. They hadn’t come to a final decision as yet, their most promising solution being pawning the task off on Eric. 

“Daddy, I know that Don Jr. and Eric are running around dino world making all kinds of claims about the Donkeykongrus stealing the election, but the longer this goes on, well … it’s going to make Jared and me look bad.”

The T-Rump frowned.

“And this affects me how?”

Before the Tyvanka could respond however, an exasperated Markmeadows burst into the room.

“They just projected Zona Canyon.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” The T-Rump pumped a short arm into the sky.

The Kushneratops raised his own short arm to correct him but it was no use as the T-Rump launched into song.

I’ve been your leader since way back when

Someday they’ll admit to my election win

I’m not ready to go

Let me make this clear

I’m still the one

I’m not going anywhere 

I’m still the one

Who only sees red

Still the one

Til I drop dead

I’m still on the run

And I’m still the one

I looked at this race every day

Until that stupid plague seemed far, far away

My lawyers explained

What I wanted to know

They were short and curt

They said take it slow

I’m still the one

Who likes riffraff

Still the one

Four chiefs of staff

I’m still the long con 

And I’m still the one

I’m still the one

Knows right from wrong

Still the one

Telling Biden, so long!

They’re still counting, hon

And I’m still the one

Changing, their shove is getting old

Even though some aren’t told, it’s my coup 

I’m still the one

Who is so in dutch 

Still the one

You can’t send too much

I’m still staring at the sun

And I’m still the one

I’m still the one

With the bait an’ switch

Still the one

Saying “voting glitch!”

I’m still banking none

And I’m still the one

I AM still the one

With all the clout

Still the one

They all talk about

I’m still not quite done

And I’m still the one

I’m still the one

Yeah, still the one

I’m still saying I won

And I’m still the one

………………………………

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!

“Well, well. What a pleasant surprise,” said the Jaketapper. “And I mean that with all due respect. I’ve been trying to get an interview with you for four years. Why now?”

He was talking to the Tyrumposaurus.

“Let’s not kid ourselves, Jake. I’ve been knocking myself out traipsing across the countryside making five speeches a day. I finally figured it out that if I just come see you, you could get the word out and save me dragging my butt around.”

“And what word would that be? A Coronavirus task force with no plan? Universal dino health care with no plan? Your policy platform for the next four years? Again, I’m drawing a blank.”

“That’s all fake news, Jake. Fake, fake, fakety, fake, fake.”

“Excuse me? Non-existent is not fake. It’s non-existent as in nothing. Slight of hand chicanery on par with outright grifting. Sorry, I let the ‘g’ word slip. My bad. Fake would be if you actually had something to compare it to, thus confirming authenticity one way or the other. Moving right along.”

“Votes, I need votes. And moolah-moolah leaves.”

“And what regions are you planning to focus on with that?”

“Regions? Focus? Jake, I’m right here. The dinos see me, they hear me. The moolah-moolah is for me.” 

“T-Rump, ever since Charlottesville you’ve been defending the white-striped dinos with your toxic rhetoric on a daily basis. Not to put too fine a point on it. Your misinformation appears intent on fomenting these groups — dare I say incite them — in many of these battleground regions on Tuesday. You’ve already told them to stand back and stand by. Why aren’t you speaking out to put an end to this? Why can’t you guarantee a peaceful transition if you lose?”

“Because I can’t lose.”

“You’re not serious. Everybody loses. At something.”

“Not me. Never happened. You can look it up.”

“Oh, no. We’re not going there. T-Rump, a bunch of your supporters almost ran the Joebiden off the trail the other day. You cheered them on. I couldn’t be more aghast in asking, how could you do such a thing?”

“No, Jake. That’s where you’re wrong. Those were more fine dinos, very fine dinos, providing security for the Joebiden on the trail. Dangerous trail. Keeping him safe.”

“I see, so they did this out of the goodness of their hearts.”

“No, they owe us. Especially me. Moolah-moolah. Joe knows where to send it. Pay up, Joe.”

“T-Rump, experts from around the dino world are pointing to, they’re calling it an ‘unfamiliar danger’ looming on Tuesday across the Milkanhoney Preservation. It’s as if we’re some kind of backwater, third-dino-world, political cesspool. They say this has been brought on by your undermining confidence in dino mail-in voting, delegitimizing post-election day ballot counting and accusations of massive voter fraud. You are tearing down our institutions and principles. You don’t really think you’re going to get away with this, do you?”

“Well, Jake …”

“Sorry, I’m on a roll. It’s been four years. This is happening on your watch. Are you going to say something to protect the sanctity of the election and the safety of Dino Nation, those two items being just a couple of minor inconveniences in the oath you took before you moved into the Oval Dwelling … or … far be it from me to put words in your mouth, T-Rump. What do you think you are doing?” 

“Who me? Nothing. So I said … something. I took it back and now every dino is waiting for me to take it one step further. It’s the Joebiden you’ve got to watch out for. He’s corrupt, evil, incompetent.”

“Ding-ding-ding-ding! That’s the projection alarm, T-Rump. Not so fast. The proliferation of hate speech and racial injustice during a hotly contested election in the middle of a pandemic is a recipe for disaster. Last chance. You’re the leader of Dino Nation. Say something.”

“I may have a surprise for you Tuesday night. Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I knew it. Every living, breathing dino knows it. The shuck and jive you’ve turned into Grandoldparty national policy has 52 dino Sin Hut sycophants sucking back your every scandal like succulent sweet water. So I took the liberty of inviting the Kennyloggins to come sing us a song to fill in dinos across the land on what they can expect this week. Because at the very least, we need to give them a heads up.”

Tuesday is the tension

Listen to their howlin’ roar

Can you feel their vengeance

If the vote is touch and go

All day in the danger zone

Right into the danger zone

Hatin’ from the far right

Lookin’ for a drag-out fight

Gotta get the knee off our neck

Someone’s gonna lose their life

All day in the danger zone

He’ll take us

Right into the danger zone

The T-Rump doesn’t care for you

Then his wicked words become their secret code

He likes to tease us, make us blue

Then he’ll turn the other way when the bad blood flows

Every bet he’s hedged

Dissenters are the enemy

Our lives are on the ledge

He’s gonna kill democracy

All day in the danger zone

He’s gonna take us

Right into the danger zone

All day in the danger zone

Who’s gonna guide us thru the danger zone?

All day in the danger zone

T-Rump’s gonna take us

Right into the danger zone

All day in the danger zone

Biden, guide us thru the danger zone

All day in the danger zone

T-Rump’s gonna take us

Right into the danger zone

All day in the danger zone

Biden, guide us thru the danger zone

………………………………

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!