“This better be good,” said the Tyrumposaurus, settling into his squat. “It’s cutting into my valuable executive time.”
The Markmeadows gritted his teeth.
“It’s all we have at this point to try and distract from the Covid virus killing 150,000 dinos. That’s a grim, telling number. For some reason, it’s sticking in everyone’s craw.”
The church cave filled up quickly for the dino priestess-doc combo, the Immanuelquack, who appeared from the wings and approached the flat rock altar. The T-Rump nudged his dino chief of staff and sneered.
“You said she packed some real fire power. Melania’s headache is going on two years now, if you know what I mean.”
“No, no. Fire Power is the name of her ministry.”
“Jesus balls! I swear, I’m getting more misinformation than I’m dishing out.”
The Markmeadows motioned with his eyes that the Immanuelquack was ready to speak.
“Greetings my dino brothers and sisters and the awfully almighty Tyrumposaurus who has graced us with his perfectly pristine presence.”
The T-Rump turned to Meadows.
“Great message. Just great.”
“We are gathered here today in the name of the Holy Trifecta to Be Sure an’ Fix Ya: Hydroxychloroquine, zinc and Zithromax. Hallelujah. The lofty lotions and potions that remain our three keys to pharmacy harmony.”
“Amen,” came a baritone in the third row.
The T-Rump nudged Meadows.
“She’s got such an important voice.”
“But you know nothing about her.”
“I know. It’s a miracle!”
The Immanuelquack’s tail flicked, her tongue licked the air and her eyes narrowed into the fire-and-brimstone a.k.a. Fire Power stare her congregation lined up around the cave for.
“Has anybody had a miscarriage?”
Silence from the audience. A walnut-brain in the back woke up and spoke.
“You mean … like a miscarriage of justice?”
“No! A real miscarriage. I’m talking gynecological problems, dinos! … Remember those evil spirits, everyone? Incubus! Uh-uh. That’s right. Succubus! Can’t forget her. They’re the ones that used to throw your lives under the Priebusunderbus. Only now they’re on our side. I mean, in case this Holy Trifecta to Be Sure an’ Fix Ya thing don’t work out. The new faith needs options. For when the fire power is sputtering.”
The Markmeadows brow furrowed.
“Uh, T-Rump. Are you sure you want to sign up for this?”
“Are you kidding me? Can’t you feel the chaos? She’s a tremendous success!”
She continued from the flat rock altar.
“Glory, praise be the all-powerful, the all-mighty spirits — though sometimes nasty they may be — swooping down into our bodies when we least expect it. Because maybe, just maybe, this is some o’ that good trouble.”
That must’ve been their cue, because the Uriahheep dinos in the choir — sub-family of the Southerngospel species — began to sing.
This is a cure you’ve never known before
It’s called demon semen
From God’s battle axe and weapon of war
There’s no more dreamin’
Demon semen and no more dreamin’
Incubus will come for astral love
It’s Fire Power and T-Rump who make her important
She warns tormenting spirits will make you impotent
Demon semen and no more dreamin’
Succubus will come for astral love
Gasping, choking
Must be alien DNA
Needing, pleading
Praying for spirits all day
And some demon semen!
Somewhere inside some Houston clinic she will bear witness
That doctors are working on a vaccine so you won’t get religious
Demon semen and no more dreamin’
Incubus will come for astral love
Demon semen and no more dreamin’
Succubus will come for astral love
………………………………
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 