David Belisle

“Merry Christmas, T-Rump.”

“What’s good about it?” the Tyrumposaurus shot back at the somewhat stunned Markmeadows. “You should go talk with my wife. She’ll tell you what Christmas is good for.”

“Pardon me, T-Rump, but this is the time of year when those extra moolah-moolah leaves really make a difference. When you’re thankful for whatever relief lands at your doorstep.”

“Yes, yes. Go on.”

“The Kongrus Kave and the Sin Hut have agreed on a Covid stimulus bill that would bring aid to millions of dinos across the land. It requires your signature.”

“Oh, I thought you were talking about more moolah-moolah for me. Dino Nation? Who cares? Do you understand where I am right now? Almost on the outside. Almost looking in. And you’re telling me about other dinos? I hate to break it to you, but there are dinos in blue regions that would actually benefit from this bill. We can’t have that, so I won’t be signing it today. Or tomorrow. Maybe next week. But that’s a world away.”

“But, sir, we can’t exactly ask these dinos to move.”

“Your idea. And you just said it’s doomed to fail. I guess this is on you then.”

The Markmeadows restrained himself from rolling his eyes. It had been so hard lately. Good gawd. 26 more days of this. 26 more days of twisting in the wind, waiting for the worst T-Rump could dredge up and fling at the world as he headed out of the Oval Dwelling. If he would leave. The Markmeadows turned to exit.

“Oh, no. Stop right there. You’re not going anywhere.”

“You don’t mean.”

“Oh, I most certainly do mean.”

Pardons. The T-Rump had found a leadership privilege that he could turn on its head for truly evil purposes. Releasing bad dinos and sitting back to watch Dino Nation cringe in horror. It was hard to tell which dino relished watching dinos tremble in fear more, the T-Rump or the Putinodon. But it was a very close race.  

“How many did you want?”

“How many do you have? That will pay.”

“Yes, well. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that last part. The Kushneratops left me a list of the dinos who helped us, those who wanted to help us, those who didn’t help us enough and those who didn’t even try to help us. Not sure why he included the last group.”

“Because those are the first dinos we hit up. If they want a pardon it’s going to cost them big-time. Got it?”

“Quite clearly.”

“Bring me the list.”

“Yes, T-Rump.”

The Markmeadows wondered how exactly he was going to explain this to the new dino attorney general when the Joebiden finally made his pick. He turned to leave.

“Oh, and Mark?”

“Uh, you want me to bring the dino house band back with me. So you can sing …  the song … as you go over the list.”

“You got it.”

Moments later …

Then Mueller asked why, and where did you go

But you did not tell them what you know

So I’ve come here to give you a hand

Gonna set you free just as we planned, so

Come on and take a free ride

Come on, gonna let it slide 

Come on, pardons nation-wide

The lies and the killings, all covered in shame

I dangle the pardon and you play the game

Whatever the bad deed, I forgive your sin

I’ll cripple the nation if I cannot win, so

Come on and take a free ride

Come on, gonna let it slide 

Come on, pardons nation-wide

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Come on and take a free ride 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Come on, gonna let it slide

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Come on and take a free ride

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Come on, pardons nation-wide

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

……………………………

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!

“Dad? Can I come in?”

The Tyrumposaurus looked up from his meal of day-old salamander tails. The extra-crunchy kind.

“Yes, Junior. What is it?”

“Didn’t the T-Melania tell you to stop eating those because they’ll only make your delirium worse?

“I’m not delirious!”

“I’m just concerned for you, dad. You. Don’t. Look. Well.”

“What’s the matter? You’ve never seen burnt orange skin before? Well, get used to it. I’m sure it’s hereditary. What are you here for anyway?”

“I, well, you know, when I’m speaking before all the dinos … the crowds are not as big as yours of course.”

“Obviously.”

“Right. And, well, this persona that I adopt as I’m speaking. Some mistakenly think I’m high on something. I try to ignore that. All of it. So when I’m speaking I project this bravado, this us against the world thing. God, Kelly’s been great, hasn’t she? I think she’s going to have kittens sometimes. Because we can’t lose, we really can’t … but …”

“Spit it out, Junior. I’d hate to choke on a salamander tail before you actually say something.”

“I’m worried, dad.”

“Don’t look at me when you say that. You’ll jinx us. Jinx us! Jinx us! Are you hearing voices or is it just me? Did somebody put you up to this, convince you to come in here and break the news to me gently?”

“It’s a small group. Nobody but immediate family would even dream of speaking to you right now. And I mean that in a kind way.” 

“You use the “L” word and so help me … we’re winners. Always. There’s no other possible outcome. Nothing else, understand?”

“Reading you loud and clear. It’s the Russodinos thing, hacking away at us again. The Mediacircustops won’t give it a rest. Always with the questions. That damn Pompeo contradicted you, saying it was the Russodinos, and I’m caught in the middle. Imagine that. Me. Yeah. Heh-heh. I know, right? I don’t know anything. I keep saying that. But they keep asking if we’re doing anything about it. I mean, on the surface, it sounds pretty bad, hitting us right where it hurts.”

The T-Rump Jr. looked around to make sure they were alone.

“Are you, um … doing anything about it?”

“I said I’ve got things under control. It’s fake news. F-A-K-E.” The T-Rump spelt the letters with a claw in the air before his horrified son. “End of story.” 

“Uh, good. That’s real good, dad. Because Eric even asked me …”

“Don’t tell Eric anything!”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry. I was just saying Eric asked me how come you always say you’re the toughest dino with the Putinodon — and I believe you, dad, one hundred percent. But Eric, well … he says you’ve never punished the Putinodon or said anything bad about him.”

A scowl from his father. The T-Rump’s face scrunched like he’d been hit with a hard right. 

“Junior, look me in the eye.”

“Which one?”

“Pick one! I’m going to sing you a little song …”

“That really isn’t necessary, dad.”

“Oh, but I think it is. Because you need to know — and don’t tell, Eric — exactly what side of the fence I’m on. This will be our little song.”

The junior T-Rump gulped.

“Uh, sure thing, dad.”

I’ve been his biggest fan for as long as I know 

He can do no wrong, as he rakes in all his dough

He tells the nation they have nothing to fear 

And to those who object, they simply disappear

If you asked me what is his best feature

The one I most admire

The term limits for this greatest creature

Will never expire

Rah, rah, my Putin!

I will never intervene

We only chat when you all are gone 

Rah, rah, my Putin!

He has kept my money clean

Playing a game we call the long con

Four years ago in a story quite bizarre

Election officials said he went too far

I didn’t take the bait, Helsinki, if you please

No time for debate, I told my guys to freeze

A former K-G-B secret stealer

Deutsche Bank became his to run

That is why I cannot be a squealer

I owe him a ton

Rah, rah, my Putin!

I will never intervene

We only chat when you all are gone 

Rah, rah, my Putin!

He has kept my money clean

Playing a game we call the long con

So when I see the complete and total domination

Of his subjects in this display of all-supreme power

Worthy of having a parade every single day in his honour

I became prouder and prouder

Again he is hacking, just whistling in the breeze

One day he could wake up, and put us on our knees

I stand here and promise that he can do no harm

But then no matter what, I won’t raise the alarm

There are some that call me an outstanding

Manchurian Candidate

This is the fake news not understanding 

He is simply great

Rah, rah, my Putin!

I will never intervene

I’ll just ignore the grisly headline

Rah, rah, my Putin!

He has kept my money clean

He’s a leader who’s kept them in line

Rah, rah, my Putin!

I will never intervene

I’ll just repeat again what he said

Rah, rah, my Putin!

He has kept my money clean

I can’t complain, he butters my bread

……………………………

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!

“You wanted to see me, T-Rump?”

“Come on in here, Mitch.”

The Moscowmitch ambled into the Oval Dwelling and took a seat across from the Tyrumposaurus.

“Now what’s this about you congratulating the Joebiden as the new leader? Where did you ever get that crazy, fake news idea?”

“Well, the electoral votes did finally come through. He got the same number, 306, as you did in your, ahem … landslide victory four years ago. Contrary to some questionable right-wing folk, T-Rump, those votes can’t be changed. They’re legal. Legit. Good as gold.”

“Nonsense. Our Lone Star-Texas dinos are putting together another lawsuit to fight that. And if the courts say ‘no standing’ one more time, I’ll sue them on that. They can’t use the same excuse over and over. It just tears me up that my Dino Supreme Court went against me. I picked them! Three of them!” 

The T-Rump looked around for something to throw. The Moscowmitch cleared his wattled throat.

“You must have heard that the Putinodon recognized the Joebiden as our new leader. I was just taking that as my cue. I know he keeps hacking away at the Milkanhoney Preservation and you won’t say a peep. I understand that. But it appears even the Putinodon is finally done with you. It’s been five weeks … or 70,000 Covid deaths ago. Give or take.” 

“Covid, Covid, Covid. Forget Covid. Five weeks? What’s five weeks in our grand scheme of things? You’re giving up too soon. Way too soon. Why, I’ve only just begun raking in, I mean accepting moolah-moolah leaves from the base. Over 200 million so far. For me to do as I please. Us, I mean us. And the Grandoldparty. In that order.”

The Moscowmitch nodded.

“Can you call it a grift if they don’t read the damn fine print? That reminds me, you wouldn’t know anything about 30% of the Coronavirus vaccine missing from, uh … every region of Dino Nation, would you?

“Oh, that. Just the cost of doing business. Side deals, the standard fare. You shake my tail, I shake yours. Our usual split, okay?”

“That’s nice, real nice, T-Rump. Uh, maybe you saw me tear up the other day at the flat rock as I announced that the Lamaralexander was calling it quits, so he could enter the fossil stage. A great dino, ol’ Lamar. Well, I’ve been praying for you too, T-Rump.”

“Now that’s a lie.”

“Okay, you got me there. But you might want to consider backing off this election fraud angle. I’ve been playing this game a long time. The Williambarr has bowed out. You’ve got 200 Grandoldparty dinos hiding under rocks, hands in their mouth. All the staff are updating their resumes. Pretty soon I’ll be the only one here with a job.”

“Very funny. Who said I’m leaving? Look at that Ronjohnson, now there’s a dino after my valuable attention. He’s doing a great job holding three-hour hearings, keeping my name out there. We’re going to flip Reno-Casino any day now.”

“T-Rump. You lost. Fifty-plus dino courts ruled there was no election fraud.”

“Stop that. I didn’t bring you in here to put a positive spin on this disaster. What’s it going to take Mitch? Do I have to send another five dinos packing?” 

“Your talent pool is down to brainless idiots and incompetent boobs.”

“That would be the upside of my current scorched Earth policy. Look, you’re my Sin Hut Go-To-Dino, you can’t be saying things like that about giving up. It hits me right in the heart. You know, that place beside my gut feeling. Come closer, maybe if I say it another way.”

Don’t give up on us now, Mitch

We’ll make the wrong seem right

We’ve only just begun to fight

I’m giving you the green light

Tainted votes we’ll bar

And we’ll go far

Don’t give up on us now, Mitch

The South still buys my lie

I know you pulled a fast one, guy

And this will make us even

I never said I’m through

Don’t give up on us, I know

We can have our coup

I’m really looking to incite

How dare they think I will be leavin’

There’s still four or five to flip, just like so

Don’t give up on us now, Mitch

I made you what you are

We now have the Earth to scar

The devil and the grifter

Not bound by any rules

Don’t give up on us, I know

We can have our coup

I’m giving you the green light

Tainted votes we’ll bar

And we’ll go far

Don’t give up on us now, Mitch

The South still buys my lie

I know you pulled a fast one, guy

And this will make us even

I never said I’m through

Don’t give up on us, I know

We can have our coup

Don’t give up on us now, Mitch

Don’t give up on us now, Mitch

……………………………

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 long throng of T-Rumpers, that is, dinos that would bite their tails off if it would please the Tyrumposaurus, slogged their way down the main path in the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir. It was their 35th consecutive day of marching. Because marching helped ease their aggression. To a dino, they felt the outcome of the election had done them a grave, severe injustice. So severe, many of them had simply dropped everything, unable to contain their anger and all-consuming rage, unable to even focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Again, marching helped.

Which is how the Innocenti Bystanderus, or Inny for short, came to be mixed up in the mad, disconsolate and outright insulted multitude of dinos marching along, mumbling, grumbling and speaking their walnut minds. Inny was an introvert, a rare characteristic for a T-Rump follower, but Inny’s dino therapist recommended he get out of his cave and live a little. This was his 35th straight day as well. He was living a lot.

Inny’s legs were short for a dinosaur, which meant he was constantly being passed by other marching dinos, allowing him to catch snippets of their conversations, be it dialogue, monologue or aspersions flung aside. All part of the indoctrination he still struggled to comprehend. What was this new alternative mindset? He kept his head down as he took his small measured strides. His therapist had told him to never look a T-Rumper in the eye. They might attack without warning.

The voice of a dino evangelical type rang out.

“Plandemics, it’s a plan. Locusts, plagues, two paths, man. It’s time to choose.”

Then a rabid rabble rouser. 

“Kemp is a traitor. The world knows T-Rump won.”

A confident, even calculating voice.  

“The fraud, the cheating. I mean, all of these things are there. And yet it’s going forward. It doesn’t make sense. It does not bode well for the future of Dino Nation. I’m disappointed with the Dino Supreme Court that they’re not taking up this fraudulent election.”

And more confident, even more calculating words, lost in some verbal loop of internal confirmation.

“It was very disappointing. Because I felt that the Supreme Court should’ve at least heard the case. Somebody has to hear the evidence and allow … uh, at least those of us who believe that the election was fraudulent. To hear the evidence pan its way out, pan itself out. And make a decision based upon the facts, not saying that you don’t have standing because you don’t have an injury. Because we all have injury. I’m from Pennsylvaneus. My vote didn’t count.”

A Loudmouth Leatherlung dino. There was one in every crowd.

“We the dinos will not accept communism in this great Milkanhoney Preservation. We will stand against it.”

An Asiansaurae accent.

“Marshall law, get used to it. Marshall law.” 

A female voice. From the old valley.

“It all happened over night, y’know. Um, my life changed overnight.  Um, like I said, in dino court, um, I can’t get a job.  Um, nobody will hire me. Um. The T-Rump warned us about’em for years. We’ve been warned about mail-in ballots forever. And, um, but the Donkeykongrus took every avenue in this election. We’ve gotta get it back. It’s ours.”

And … the Rogerstone? 

“They tell us this election is over. Nothing is over until we say it is. We will fight to the bitter end for an honest count.”

Inny had heard enough. This 35-day mantra had finally hit home. The words had opened his eyes. Loosened his lips. He looked up to the sky and sang.

The long and blinding road, that bleeds guts and gore

We’ve had it up to here, just listen to us roar

We’ll stop the steal right here, if it leads to civil war

The wild and wooly fight, and the pain, goes to say

They all done tried to steer, all our votes their way 

We can’t just disappear, gonna save the day 

Many times we’ve picked a bone, you know we got our pride

We need our heroes y’know, like Bonnie an’ Clyde

That’s why there’s no turnin’ back, on this long blinding road

As sure as I’m standin’ here cuz I ain’t gonna go

Cuz that’s the oath I swore to give T-Rump four more

Standin’ by and standin’ back on this long blinding road

Get Perdue and Kelly here, them two just gotta go

Why are they even here? Kick’em out the door!

……………………………

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!