“They’re killing me. They’re absolutely killing me!”
It was three days since the November battle had begun. Nerves were wearing thin. The T-Rump’s were shot about five minutes after the polls closed Tuesday. Now, Friday morning, his huge leads of 700,000 votes in Pennsylvaneus and 380,000 in Georgia Orchard had slowly, agonizingly dwindled down to … practically nothing. He was leading in Pennsylvaneus by a mere 18,000 and by just 600 in Georgia Orchard. The loss of every single vote felt like aggravated grand larceny. Surely it didn’t reflect upon his performance over the past three years and ten months.
It was well known by dinos across the land that it was the T-Rump’s own fault his vote count had plummeted. He’d told the dino world that the dino mail system was nothing more than a Donkeykongrus black hole of chicanery and fraud that had become this travesty overnight. His dino cult blindly believed him and had patiently waited to cast their vote on election day. There, they rubbed shoulders and slobbered on other dinos if only to catch the full effect of the worsening Coronavirus, now referred to as the plague by the T-Rump. And not in a joking manner. Such comforting words from the dino leader. So the day-of-election votes were counted first, the mail-in ballots counted last and the T-Rump now needed an excuse to escape being a — horror of horrors — loser. They must be cheating. That’s it.
“Tell them to stop counting in Pennsylvaneus and Georgia Orchard!”
“But,” the Markmeadows interjected, “if we do that, they’ll have to stop counting in Zona Canyon and Reno-Keno. We’re, ahem … trailing there.”
“So keep counting in Zona Canyon and Reno-Keno. Keep counting!” He paused. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”
The Jaysekulow raised a short arm.
“I’m afraid … it appears we have no evidence.”
“What did I say about bothering me with details? Find some!”
The T-Rump Jr. stepped forward.
“Dad, the Joebiden came out and spoke to the Mediacircustops again. You need to get your voice out there.”
Every other yes-dino in the cave waved their short arms in an emphatic gesture that that would be a most horrible idea. The T-Rump ignored them.
“That’s right. Of course I do. Set it up. 30 minutes. I’ll show ’em who’s boss.”
Half an hour later, the Mediacircustops gathered before a hastily built flat rock lectern. An agitated T-Rump stepped behind it.
“You’ll notice that I’ve won a lot of dino regions, a whole lot of them in the most impressive display the dino world has ever seen. Unfortunately we have several regions, the only ones I’m, um … behind in, they’re counting ballots that have apparently dropped from the sky. Very dangerous. That could lead to violence. These are fraudulent and I will be having the Williambarr investigate every last one of them.”
As he spoke, the Johnking joined the Mediacircustops. He leaned into one dino to whisper something in his ear. That dino whispered to another and before a minute had passed, every dino except the T-Rump had heard the news. The T-Rump railed on.
“And I will not stand for this blatantly corrupt behaviour directed at me, a regular dino representing the all-important blue-collar dino … which I think I’m referring to here for the all-important first time. Because I typically don’t hang out with that crowd.”
The Mediacircustops rose en masse and turned to leave.
“Wait a minute. Where are you all going?”
“More results have come in,” said the nearest Mediacircustops. “You’re now behind in Pennsylvaneus by 9,000 and 1,500 in Georgia Orchard.”
“And you’re losing in Zona Canyon and Reno-Keno,” added the Andersoncooper. “T-Rump, you’re losing everywhere.”
On that grating, sour note, the Mediacircustops again turned to exit.
“No! You can’t go. Come back here! You need me!”
But the Mediacircustops turned a deaf ear to his pleas. Instead, as they moved out, they looked at one another and smiled. Then they broke into a song they’d been waiting to sing for a long time. A very long time.
Bye bye, crud
Bye bye, scandalous
Hello, happiness
I think you are a spy
Bye bye, crud
Bye bye, cockiness
Hello, giddiness
I feel like I could fly
Bye bye, good god, goodbye
There goes that crumb bum without a clue
He sure did crappy, I sure was blue
He was so crazy when he moved in
Goodbye to justice, where to begin?
Bye bye, crud
Bye bye, nastiness
Hello, happiness
I think I’m-a on a high
Bye bye, crud
Bye bye, ugliness
Hello, classiness
I feel like Joe’s my guy
Bye bye, good god, goodbye
I’m-a through with T-Rump, I’m a-through with crud
I’m through recountin’, his name is mud
From the beginnin’, he said they’ll cheat
And it was Biden, who beat him clean
Bye bye, crud
Bye Bye, angriness
Hello, happiness
I think I’ll kiss the sky
Bye bye, crud
Bye bye, tackiness
Hello, normal-ness
I feel like one big sigh
Bye bye, good god, goodbye
Bye bye, get lost, goodbye
Bye bye, you’re fired! G’bye!
………………………………
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 