T-Rump Never Knows …

“Hi, guys. How is everybody?”
“Who are you?” asked the Moscowmitch.
“What? Um, you know. The, uh … Johnbolton. Remember me?”
The dinos in the Sin Hut Cave rolled their eyes as one. The embarrassing welcome mat rolled up in Bolton’s face with a snap …

Tulsa Time …

Sweat dripped profusely from the Tyrumposaurus rally campaign dino’s brow. He wiped it away, stealing a peek at the T-Rump.
“It’s not too late to cancel this thing.”
“Are you kidding me?!” roared the T-Rump. “There are millions of dinos out there. Millions! Do I have to get the Seanspicer in here to tell you that?”

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