“And tell them when the looting starts, the shooting starts.”
“Excuse me?”
The Trollertweety looked at the Tyrumposaurus like he had three heads.
“You heard me, I want you to tell those thug dinosaurs in Minnee-Haha-Hoho-Heehee that if they loot any caves, the dino authorities can shoot off their mouths and whack’em with their tails. Beat the crap out of ‘em. And haul off any of those damn Mediacircustops that get in the way.”
“Uh, no can do.”
It was the T-Rump’s turn to look shocked.
“And why not?”
“I have a new rule. I need to add a disclaimer.”
“Now why would I want a nondisclosure agreement with my own Trollertweety?”
“Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea because then I’d just keep my mouth shut. But I said disclaimer. As in I will be telling your audience they should fact check first before believing you.”
“Fact check? Since when?”
“Since I felt my back and found my freaking spine.”
“Very funny. There will be no fact checking, you hear me?”
“Then I’m afraid we’re done here.”
The Trollertweety ruffled his feathers and turned away.
“Wait. You can’t leave. I — I … I will do away with you.”
“Isn’t that basically the same thing? But really now, you’re gonna kill little ol’ me?”
“If I can’t have you, no one can.”
“That sounds so romantic, T-Rump, but I know you only love yourself. Without me, you’re nothin’, bub.”
“Dammit. You got me there. But how am I going to slander the Joebiden, hurl insults at that radical left mayor, the Jacobfrey, and run my demeaning, divisive bent through Dino Nation?”
The Trollertweety paused in thought, tapping his beak with his wing.
“Hmm. I suppose you could draft the longest executive order in history to whine about what the Adamschiff gets away with, drone on how censorship inhibits free speech and completely ignore the very issue that fact-checking is there to salvage the truth.”
“Great idea. I’m on it.”
The T-Rump bolted from their meeting.
The Trollertweety could only shake his head. How come the T-Rump never moves that fast in making decisions that could save lives in this pandemic? The Trollertweety waddled over to the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir where he squatted at the swamp’s edge and took several peckish slurps. He stared at his reflection, wondering what the T-Rump’s latest actions would mean for Dino Nation. A pair of trumpeter swans, the Paulsimon and the Artgarfunkel, glided past him, their rippling wake and rhythm trailing behind them.
Common sense, is this the end?
T-Rump is at it once again
Though most awake, some are still sleeping
Upon our rights he is creeping
And his mission for complete control insane
Still remains
It is our sound of silence
For those who want to pick a bone
Beware his latest wall of stone
Upon our freedoms he will tramp
To ease the pain of a new brain cramp
He plans to crush us with his puny, bone-spur might
When tweets take flight
To bring the sound of silence
And he says we should shake with awe
As he simply rewrites the law
He is talking without speaking
He is hearing without listening
100 thousand dead and he doesn’t dare
Show he cared.
Their deaths the sound of silence
He’s a fool who wants his show
His cult, knuckles dragged in tow
Their minds know not what they do
His lies the virus, running thru and thru
Projecting forth their own inner hell
Angry stares, beware, their silence
So we’re the nation that got played
By a demagogue prepaid
It is time to sound the warning
Lest spend four more years in mourning
Are we sick and tired of the profits
He has made upon us all
And with the gall
November. No more sound of silence.
………………………………
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!
David Belisle 