David Belisle

The large, squat, toad-like Williambarr gazed out at the massive gathering of Mediacircustops. It was Act 28 of his long-running play at upstaging the Muellersavus report, 400-plus footprints in the sand that had taken 22 months for the veteran Langleyops and his meticulous crew to stamp into Trumpassic Period history.

The Williambarr beamed at his latest public relations coup. Once more he’d put the Tyrumposaurus spin on the report, ingraining the T-Rump’s innocence upon all things collusive and obstructive — 90 minutes before the rest of the dino world even had a chance to see what he was talking about.

“Welcome, dinos,” the attorney dino general began. “We meet again. I’m not going to apologize for getting out ahead of the Muellersavus on this one. In a time where many dinos beg off, saying that’s above my pay grade. Well, heh-heh … it’s not above mine. No, sirree. There was no collusion with the Russodinos or obstruction of justice. The Tyrumposaurus and his Oval Dwelling dinos bent over backwards — quite a feat for some of these dinos who are practically invertebrates. That is, without backbone. Forget the fire and brimstone cries of ‘Fake News’ from the bully pulpit. It’s the thought that counts. The T-Rump could have asserted executive privilege but out of the clean, pristine goodness of his heart, he didn’t. Ahem. Whatta guy.”

The Williambarr dabbed his eyes. Try as he might, tears wouldn’t come. Did that make him a bad actor? Oh well, on with the show.

“It almost brings me to tears, and it should you too. I’ll tell you why the T-Rump behaved this way. He said he may speak with you later, but let’s call that a little white lie for now. The T-Rump entered an unprecedented situation when he entered the Oval Dwelling. There is substantial evidence … and this is a rare case where the Muellersavus and I do agree … that the T-Rump was frustrated and yes, even angered by the investigation undermining his leadership. So, based on this golden public relations opportunity I’ve orchestrated, I can’t say it enough. Don’t read the report too deeply, because there was no collusion. The Muellersavus however and the Rodrosenstein squatting behind me, who looks to have contracted some strange illness since arriving, both disagree. Remember, they’re beneath me. Apparently the Muellersavus has outlined ten instances of potential obstruction by the T-Rump. But I ask you. 10 instances? Is that all he could come up with? If you stack that up with the T-Rump’s 9500 lies, why that’s only 1 obstruction every 95 lies. I’d call that a 95 percent success rate. I’ll take those odds. Every time. You should too. Now then, I’ll take a few questions.”

The Shimonprokupecz raised a short arm, put on his best sneer and fired first.

“I was going to ask you if you’re making this up as you go along, but we all know the answer to that one.”

A few snickers from the scrum. The Shimonprokupecz continued.

“Seeing as how you won’t let us see the Muellersavus report for another hour-and-a-half, that leaves us with nothing to talk about.”

“Precisely.”

“Except you.”

“Me?”

Uh-oh. This wasn’t supposed to go this way. The Williambarr took a deep breath. Yes, he’d signed on to be the fire wall against all things anti-T-Rump. He’d take the heat and vitriol for his esteemed leader because after all, in this day and age, bad news trumped bad like a sputtering volcano. Fortunately there was no lava that could burn through his boss’s orange, armour-like skin. Because his boss was one b-a-a-a-a-d dino.

“Uh, what about me?”

“We’re onto you,” said the Shimonprokupecz. “We know your M.O.”

“Mouth Opening?”

“Modus operandi. Thirty years ago when you were the assistant attorney dino general for the Bushfortyone, he wanted the Manuelnoriega out of the Panamaroot Canal. So you came up with some fancy footwork that allowed the Langleyops to go into a foreign land and take him out. Then when the Kongrus Kave wanted to see your legalese you declined. You finally told them your footprints only dealt with domestic matters, not foreign lands.”

“That’s right.”

“Except we finally found out two years later — after you left — that your words were all about foreign affairs. You lied to the dinos of the Milkanhoney Preservation.”

“Well …”

“I’m not done.”

Hoo-boy.

“There were six dinos, including the Casparweinberger, who were charged with crimes in the Iran-Contra Sandy Feetza scandal. The Bushfortyone had footprints in the sand that could implicate him so you advised him to pardon the six dinos, thereby giving him cover to do so and effectively end the investigation.”

“Hey, who has a question about the Muellersavus report?”

“We haven’t read it, remember?” came a chorus of several Mediacircustops.

“Right. I almost forgot.”

The Williambarr had to think fast. This scrum was blowing up in his face.

“Okay, here’s a teaser on the report. The Huckabeecyclops lied.”

A collective yawn from the crowd.

“No, really. She did.”

“Okay,” said the Shimonprokupecz. “I’ll bite. Could you be more specific?”

“If you insist. Remember when she said the Comeyonus was fired because, let’s see if I can paraphrase here … there were countless members of the Langleyops who had lost faith in the Comenyonus? And then, when you Mediacircustops pressed her to explain to the rank-and-file Langleyops who disagreed with her, she said she’d heard from countless — there’s that word again — Langleyops that said very different things. Well, here’s the shocker. That was all baseless information. Lies. Both lies. Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you go ask her about it?”

The Mediacircustops turned on their heels and stampeded for the Oval Dwelling. The Williambarr wiped his brow. Dodged another one. There was one solace in life. Lava did flow downhill.

Several burly Constablebobbies from the Piccadilly Circle dragged the Julianassange out of his Ecuadorian-by-the-Sea cave. The main keeper of the Wikileakibeak had been holed up there for seven long years and was not going quietly.

“Get your paws off me! Do you know who I am? My real name is Herman. I’m with the Hermits. I think I’m into something good here! Really!”

He dug his heels harder into the ground.

“That poop on the wall? It’s my cat. He’s a monster!”

More struggling as they dragged him away.

“Next you’re going to tell me it’s a Russodino-Wikilealibeak-T-Rump conspiracy. Oops. Did I just say that out loud?”

Meanwhile, several dino treks and a short-haul Trollertweety flight away, the Tyrumposaurus and his sneering sycophant, the Stephenmillerus, sat with the T-Rump’s latest confirmed yes-dino, the Williambarr. The Stephenmillerus nodded to the attorney dino general.

“He’s paying big dividends, isn’t he, boss?”

“You bet,” said the T-Rump, clapping tails with the Williambarr. “I never read your 19 footprints in the sand audition, but thank goodness Stephen here did. I, uh … also didn’t read your four-footprint summary-non-summary, but again it was Stephen to the rescue. So happy you could save the day.”

“Why, thank you,” said the smug Stephenmillerus.

“Not you, I was talking to Bill.”

“Oh.”

The Stephenmillerus extended his jaw out a foot, then retracted it. It was a nervous tick that appeared whenever he was even mildly embarrassed. A reflex instinct the T-Rump never failed to mock.

“Lockjaw would be sad. Better for you to stay unhinged.” He grinned at his joke and turned to his attorney general. “Bill, we’re getting great Mediacircustop play … I love shouting ‘total exoneration!’ from the hilltops. And then your redactions. Don’t forget all those different kinds of redactions.”

“Do you think four is enough? I can think of some more …”

“Why not?” said the Stephenmillerus. “You’re one of us now. Doing things on the fly. Like when they asked if you let any dino see the Muellersavus report. Your saying nothing said everything! They know you work for us. The top legal dino in the land. Can it get any better? And then it did!”

“Spying,” said the T-Rump. “Saying the Langleyops were spying. That was the best!”

The Stephenmillerus rubbed his hands together.

“The Nancypelosi said you’re going off the trails! Onward and downward! We’re taking down dino institutions!”

“Please, Stephen,” said the T-Rump, “I have dinos wanting to me put away. Bill, I want you to go after the Langleyops dinos who began this whole hoax. You can cut through their Crapanbullasaurus party line of ‘been there, done that’ excuses. I know you’ll do your best to stall and delay.”

More hand rubbing and a sneer from the Stephenmillerus.

“Driving the Donkeykongrus and the Mediacircustops crazy and diverting their attention from the other two dozen investigations. Genius.”

“I’m here to serve you,” the Williambarr said, kneeling to lick the T-Rump’s scaly orange feet.

“Excuse me, T-Rump?”

“What is it, Huckabee? Can’t you see I’m having my feet licked?”

“We’ve just received word that the Jullianassange of Wikileakibeak fame will be coming to the Milkanhoney Preservation.”

“Wikileakibeak? I love the Wikileakibeak! Saved our bacon during the battle. I thanked them 147 times and I’d thank them a thousand times more.

“They’ve been indicted.”

“Never heard of’em.”

“I also bring news about that Hobnoblobby dino, the Gregcraig? He’s been indicted for lying about hobnobbing and being paid 4 million moolah-moolah leaves.”

“Hobnobbing for 4 million. Right. I respect a good Hobnoblobby dino. This just goes to show the Muellersavus and his 13 angry Donkeykongrus dinos cracking down again on us poor, defenseless dinos. They’re relentless. Sad. Very sad. The Gregcraig is a great dino who I’m proud to know. He can hobnob with me anytime. For 4 million. Why, I’d even take him home to meet my sister.”

“He’s a Donkeykongrus, T-Rump.”

“He’s a treasonous traitor!”

“Um … speaking of your sister …”

“Yes, my nearest and dearest. A fine woman. A judge even. Though you’d never know it to look at me. She’s as honest as the day is long and just told me yesterday she’d like to stay as a judge for another 10 years.”

“She just resigned to avoid a mytaxes returnus fraud investigation.”

“Oh no, I don’t have any sister.”

The T-Rump turned to the Williambarr.

“How low can you go, Bill?”

“Well, I’ll have to find a sister before I can get rid of her. Hmm. I guess I could do that.”

“Sure you can, Bill. Whatever I need. Or I don’t know you. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“This is a hill and dinos would be willing to die on it,” the Hogangidley said with his chest swelled for added emphasis. He coughed. His chest caved. “No, ahem. Really, I would.”

The issue at hand was the Donkeykongrus’ request for the Tyrumposaurus’ mytaxes returnus. The mytaxes returnus was a thick layer of green skin shed each spring by every adult dino. Except for some strange reason, the T-Rump. He begged off, claiming his was being inspected or audited for some time now. Going on several years. The longest audit in living memory.

Which is why several of the big tail-thumpers of the T-Rump’s posse had gathered at the Foxsquawkbox headquarters to beat down this absurd request by the Donkeykongrus for a peek at the T-Rump’s most private skin. Dinos in the audience looked at one another. The Hogangidley had run out of things to say. His eyes suddenly sparkled and his face brightened. He’d remembered something and couldn’t blurt it out fast enough.

“Let’s all be thankful for the T-Rump’s great leadership!”

“Thank you, Hogan,” the Mickmulvaney said, strutting to center stage. He took a sideways glance at the Seanhannity. “You’ll need to be quiet now, Sean. This is serious business. And don’t let the Jeaninepirro, the Lauraingraham or the Annecoulter into the cave. Just don’t. There’s free speech and then there’s what they have to say. Ridiculous. Pure nonsense.”

The Mickmulvaney turned to the thousands of Foxsquawkbox faithful. He cleared his throat.

“L-O-O-O-O-O-K!!” The masses roared back as one with the Mickmulvaney’s trademark condescending sentence starter.

“Thank you. I want to assure you all that the Donkeykrongrus will never …  N-E-V-E-R … never obtain the T-Rump’s mytaxes returnus. Nor should they. Not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin. Yes, the T-Rump just read those footprints in the sand yesterday. He’s showing us great leadership. Let’s keep in mind that all you dinos out there know that the T-Rump could have given over his mytaxes returnus during the battle campaign. He didn’t. You knew it and you still lined up behind him anyway. Which, of course is what drives the Donkeykongrus crazy! We just l-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-v-e driving them crazy, don’t we?”

A long, loud roar from the crowd.

“That’s right, I’m a right-wing nutjob! Can you stand it?!”

More roaring from the crowd. They began chanting.

“Nut-JOB! Nut-JOB! Nut-JOB!”

“Thank you, thank you. Oh, you’re too kind. Please. Thank you.”

“L-O-O-O-O-O-K!!” came the roar from the crowd.

“That’s right, I’m speaking again. But false alarm. I want to trot out some character witnesses on this whole mytaxes returnus brouhaha.”

Confused looks from the audience.

“Ahem. An issue or dilemma? You know, a problem? So I’ve invited some dinos of fine conservative stock that will help shine some light on the poor T-Rump’s plight. Come on out, it’s the Manaforta.”

The Manaforta limped out from the wings and peered out at the crowd.

“First off, I want to thank the Mickmulvaney for calling in some favours and getting me this day pass from the Solitary Sinkhole. I’d forgotten that special Puhl-DePlugg stench in the air. Anyway, I’m still waiting for that T-Rump pardon … I mean, I want you all to know it’s a travesty and a crime to go looking at another dino’s mytaxes returnus, especially the T-Rump’s. Is there no trust, no faith left in the world? You just have to look at me. Forget about the next seven years.  I already have. Honest.”

“Heart warming.” said the Mickmulvaney. “Truly heartwarming. Okay, Paul. You need to get back before the Donkeykongrus find out. Next up, we have a dino we’re pitching to the Moolah-Moolah Reserve. Strictly non-partisan of course, but we may have to call in more favours. A trivial matter. Let’s welcome … the Stephenmoore!”

A smattering of applause from the audience.

“Thank you, heh-heh, thank you so much. Heh-heh. Heh-heh-heh. I’d just like to say that I’ve been commenting on economics for so long, I feel I finally — FINALLY — know the stuff. Heh-heh. I just heard an inside secret the other day. I’d like to share it with you. Buy low, sell high. You heard it here! Heh-heh. Heh-heh-heh-heh. And, oh yes, the, uh, T-Rump’s mytaxes returnus, it’s not a problem. I should know. They saw mine and I still owe 75-thousand moolah-moolah. How much could the T-Rump possibly owe? Right? This is crazy! Heh-heh-heh. Heh-heh, heh-heh-heh.”

The Mickmulvaney rushed onto the stage.

“Thank you, Steve. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh, I guess I do. Heh-heh. Heh-heh-heh.”

The Stephenmoore sidestepped off into the shadows.

“Finally,” the Mickmulvaney said, “let’s welcome the T-Rump’s own son-in-law, the Kushneratops!”

The Kushneratops took the stage with smooth, almost princely strides. He took in the crowd with a look that said he knew more than they did. And always would. He raised an eye.

“Three words. Saudisaurae. Brookfield. Six-six-six.”

He finished the sentence with a smug smile, waved his short arm and glided off the stage as if he had a billion moolah-moolah leaves lining his nest and it was Wallowing Time.

The Mickmulvaney filled the void, leading the audience in clapping their hands.

“Thank you, Jared, for gracing us with your presence. Six-six-six. Well done. Keep us posted on that peace in the Middle Eastlands, won’t you? Alright. I want to turn the stage over to the T-Rump’s personal legal dino, the vaunted, the exalted, the one legal dino among s-o-o-o-o-o many, the Williamconsovoy.”

“Oh, boy, Consovoy! Oh, boy, Consovoy!” the crowd called back.

“Okay, okay,” said the Mickmulvaney. “Trust me, he’s not that exciting. But we need to make it look like we’re doing something to fight this fight, so here’s our latest dino to master that dumb art of legal dino speak. I promise it won’t be long. If you only grasp a word or two, don’t worry, you’ll be fine. After the Williamconsovoy, we’ll hear some words from the Devilnunesmemo, who is now officially on the clock to come up with something that will further our goals of escaping this latest hot mess, this – this political stunt. Right, William?

The Williamconsovoy trotted out, trying and failing to lose his schoolboy grin.

“Yes, before I begin, I’d like to thank the T-Rump for his leadership. Now then, caution and deliberation are essential to ensure that the Moolah-Moolah Department does not erode the constitutional separation of powers or the–”

“Thank you, William,” interrupted the Mickmulvaney. “Well, done. Can’t you see their eyes glazing over already? That’s more than we need to hear. Much more. Devil? Time’s up. Get on out here.”

The Devilnunesmemo, red-cheeked and blustery as ever, huffed and puffed his way onto the stage.

“Eight! Eight no less! Got’em red-handed! I will be sending eight criminal referrals to the Williambarr this week. I don’t know who yet, but I will soon. Real soon. Count on it. I’m calling it a global leak. Global. As in really wide, you bet. We’re prepared this week to notify the Attorney Dino General that we’re prepared to send those referrals over and brief him — if he wishes to be briefed. We think they’re pretty clear, but as of right now this is, this may not be all of them, but this cleans stuff up quite a bit. Don’t you think? I certainly do. And that’s all that matters because, don’t forget, I used to be in charge.”

“Fantastic, Devil,” said the Mickmulvaney. “You are the devil, aren’t you.”

“Hold it right there! You need to hear this.”

“Huh?” The Mickmulvaney spun around. The Adamschiff appeared beside the Devilnunesmemo. The Adamschiff looked him up and down.

“What? Don’t think you can sit beside me and not escape my wrath, also known as My. Two. Cents.” He turned to the crowd. “I don’t regret calling out the T-Rump. Not for one nanosecond.”

The Kirstengillibrand scampered onto the stage.

“I want you all to know that the T-Rump is a toddler. A toddler who is melting down and making bad decisions. Bad decisions, everyone!”

The Seanhannity rose from his squat.

“Hey! Who let those two in here? Sorry, Mick. I’m not a journalist, so I’m not about to let our good dinos hear both sides of the story. Of any story.”

He nodded to a pair of big, burly Brontosauruses, who rumbled onto the scene and quickly dispatched with the two despised Donkeykongrus do-gooders.

The Mickmulvaney stepped back to the fore with an appreciative nod to the Seanhannity.

“Let the love-in continue. Devil, please. Go on.”

“Well, that was almost all I had to say. I hope I wasn’t too vague.”

“It was fine, Devil,” said the Mickmulvaney. “I’m sure the Seanhannity and company can mold it into fire and brimstone within the hour. You, uh … said you had something left to say?”

“Yes. I just want to add that, no, I am not having a cow and I wish dinos would stop comparing me to a cow because I will sue them for 250 million moolah-moolah again. And again. I learned from the best. The T-Rump. I don’t care if the cow is more popular than me. I really don’t. I’m not taking this personal. Because I am the Devilnunesmemo and – and … I do not have subpoena power! There I said it. Sad. So sad. But, lest we forget, the T-Rump is showing us great leadership. Just great. Where would we be without him?”

“Thank you, Devil. We have one more special guest, just back from her latest tour of the Great Tex-Mex Divide. Let’s hear it for the T-Rump’s and your favourite chief of Homeland Security, the Kirstjennielsen.”

Applause began, then paused as heads turned, trying to find her.

“Kirstjen? Has anyone seen Kirstjen?”