201127 – David Belisle

I Pardon That Commotion …

The Oval Dwelling was positively swelling. Dinos jostled for position in the latest negotiations on PPE. The POTUS Pardon Extravaganza, that is. The Tyrumposaurus had just granted the Flynnhasbeen a full pardon. Word traveled like a Pterodactyl mating call. All dinos looking for a pardon and or their representatives had quickly assembled. The process had turned into a full blown auction with the dino auctioneer in rapid-fire mode, droning on to the perky ears of all participants.

“The Manaforta. What’s the Manaforta gonna give? Gonna keep quiet. Like a possum. Dead quiet like a possum. Dead quiet. Possum quiet. Dead possum quiet. He’s playin’ dead possum quiet. Keepin’ quiet. Dead quiet. Playin’ dead. Keepin’ quiet. Gosh, I’m a quiet possum. Possum quiet. Dead possum. Is he keepin’ quiet? Is he dead? Like he’s dead? Possum dead? Keepin’ quiet? Dead quiet?”

A nod from the Manaforta’s legal dino.

“He’s keepin’ quiet. Need a no Russodinos. Need a no. A no-no-no. Not a one. No-no Putin. No Putin. No puttin’ in a Putin. No Putin puttin’ in. No, no Putin? Do I gotta undying devotion? Need undyin’ devotion. Devotion the notion. Undying. No dyin’. Notion devotion. Devotion promotion. Undyin’ devotion. Needin’ devotion before dyin’. Don’t die, no dyin’ before devotion. Gotta devotion notion? Undyin’ devotion?”

Another nod from the legal dino.

“Sold! Manaforta gets the pardon. Big pardon. Full pardon. Pardon you. Pardon me. Pardon garden company. Who’s next?”

His eyes picked out …

“The Rogerstone! I need a tricky Dicky. I’m a picky, picky on my tricky Dicky. Picky, picky, tricky Dicky. No nicky-picky, no picky-picnic-nicky on my tricky Dicky. Need a tricky Dicky. Dicky tricky. Tricky Dicky. Prickly, prickly. Sticky, sticky. No picky-nicky. Prickly, sticky, tricky Dicky? Tricky Dicky? Dicky tricky?”

The Rogerstone flashed a grin.

“You’re my tricky Dicky! Need election spin. Need to say I win. I win, election spin. Need to win, spin, spin to win. Not a sin. Who says I’m in? Spin I’m in. Say I’m in. Say I win, spin the spin. Rin-tin-tin. Win, spin, win, spin. Sayin’ when I spin to win. Election win. And the spin. Then a win. Win, spin, not a sin. Spin to win, election win?”

Another grin from Stone.

“Sold! Rogerstone gets the pardon. Big pardon. Full pardon. Pardon you. Pardon me. Pardon garden company. Who’s next?”

A short arm went up.

“The Kushneratops wants a pardon. What’s he gonna give? What we gonna need? One-two-five-ten-twenty-fifty-hundred-more. Gotta count some more. Goin’ higher. Higher. Higher like a fire. Hire. Fire. Hire. Fire. Don’t fire me. Thousand, million, billion. Did ya bring a trillion? Countin’ more. T-Rump wants more. Add a zero. Zero, zero. Be a hero with a zero. Hero. Zero. Zero hero. Not the boss. No sirree. Not the boss. Don’t look at me. Billion with a B. Thousand million. Need a billion with a B.”

A nod from the Kushneratops.

“Gotta billion with a B. 2B or not 2B? Shakespeare is shakin’ free. What we gonna see? 2B will set you free. 2B the price, you see. Gettin’ free. With 2B. To be free. 2B free. Too be free. Two’s a number and also, it be. I need 2B. 2B, I need. I need 2B. Say 2B for me. 2B for me. Me with 2B? I don’t see. 2B, 2B, you’ll be free. Free for 2B. Give me 2B. 2B to be free. To be Scooby-Doo. Free for 2B? 2B is 2B. Say 2B for me.”

The Kushneratops smirked.

“Sold! Jared gets the pardon. Big pardon. Full pardon. Pardon you. Pardon me. Pardon garden company. Who’s next?”

The auctioneer spotted T-Rump with his short arm raised.

“Stop. Stop the show. Stoppin’ pardons, don’t ya know. Stop. Don’t pass go. Stop. Stop. I say so.”

“Dinos! My crony friends. Thanks for coming out. I’m getting bored though. This is taking way too long. So, call it a miracle, the best miracle in the history of miracles, but I have Smokey here to sing a song. Especially for those of you I haven’t pardoned yet. Just listen to it … and consider yourself pardoned. Gotta go. I’ve got a lot of accidents that need creating.”

Maybe you’ll wanna come and kiss my feet

Because you don’t wanna be in my next tweet

And maybe someday you’re gonna take the fall

What a waste of time in jail for you all

Oh, whatta world, in Flynn’s case, he’s gotta new start

He won’t forget that, and you, yes, you can take part

So, if you feel like pumping me

If your funds aren’t frozen

I pardon that commotion

So, if you will just guarantee

A lifetime of devotion

I pardon that commotion

Maybe you think that I am just a clown

And you know my favorite color is nose brown

Maybe you think I didn’t finish school

And this is the shallow end of the gene pool

Oh, whatta world,

In that case, I don’t give a fart

I’ll just make you that, that new greeter at Wal-Mart

Oh, but if you feel like pumping me

If your funds aren’t frozen

I pardon that commotion

So, if you will just guarantee

A lifetime of devotion

I pardon that commotion

Oh, whatta world, in that case I don’t give a fart

I’ll just make sure that, that your life will fall apart

Oh, but if you feel like pumping me

If your funds aren’t frozen

I pardon that commotion

So, if you will just guarantee

A lifetime of devotion

I pardon that commotion

Oh, whatta world,

I pardon that commotion

………………………………

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!

Me and You and a Dad-Blamed Coup …

The lone Lobosaurus stopped and looked around. He’d been trudging along head down for some time and evidently strayed from the Michigonian neighborhood path. He was nearsighted and a little hard of hearing, a dino with pre-existing conditions, if you will. He focused as best he could on his new, foreign surroundings. What he saw gave him immediate pause and his tail a quick, defensive twitch.

Before him was a pack of over 200 angry, phlegm-spewing, knuckle-dragging Militiasaurae dinos who looked like they were angry at the world for most of the day. Uh-oh. Lobo was definitely on the wrong side of the path. He’d accidentally stumbled into a Stop the Steal rally for dinos who were positive in their beliefs — based on no evidence — that the Joebiden had stolen the election from the T-Rump. The Lobosaurus quietly turned about face and begin to slowly slink away. Too late.

“You there!” hollered one of the Militiasaurae. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The big dino had a long scar along his chin, caused the week before when he’d tried to eat a Raptor that wasn’t dead yet. The Lobosaurus tapped his own lower lip thoughtfully.

“I – I think I’m in the wrong place.”

“Is that so? Is there something wrong with this place?”

“Pardon?”

“Who did you vote for?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s privileged information.”

“Aha! You’re a Joebiden dino. You’re in the wrong place, pal.”

“That’s what I was saying. S-o-o-o, I really should be getting back to my cave before another dino moves in. You know how tough finding a cave is these days.

The Militiasaurus held up a hand.

“Not so fast.” He looked around. “Hey, guys! We got a live one here.”

In the dino world, that pretty much is the last thing one hears before being eaten alive.

A minute later the Lobosaurus was surrounded by 200 sinister-looking, freely salivating dinos. Chin Scar nudged him with his tail.

“Okay, Joebiden guy, admit it. Your guy’s a fraud. He stole the election. He robbed us blind.”

“Well, if what you say is true, why would he go to all that trouble and not change any dinos in the Sin Hut?”

200 pairs of Militiasaurae eyes en masse rolled one way, then the other in communal consternation. Chin Scar stamped his big foot down.

“Don’t listen to him. That’s Mediacircustops fake news.”

“You can’t change the facts.”

“Except we don’t like your facts. We’re doing quite nicely playing connect the dots with QAnonymousarus theories. Venezuela-Wayla, socialism … and that dead Hugochavez dino. You guys are guilty as sin. So guilty we don’t need that Sidneypowell dino any more.”

“Guilty of what? I’d welcome any evidence.”

“Don’t get smart with us.”

“But the dino authorities, that’s what they go by … you know, legitimate authority?”

Lobo didn’t like the look in the Militiasaurae eyes. Chin Scar chuckled.

“Let’s just say we’re standing by, as the T-Rump called it.”

“Uh, before you all run off and do something you might regret, if I might offer some advice?”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

That November came a day

When T-Rumpers tried to sway

And how frauds, cheats and liars

Was their common refrain

All the courts told them where to go

For attempted recount overthrow

Cuz they only wish

T-Rump was back in power again

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Evil spreadin’ across the land

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

How did this get so out of hand?

Now they did try to stall

But ol’ Judge Brann, he made his call

Said they stitched theories together

Just like Frankenstein’s friend

Six million voters they would shirk

Then call it a Pennsylvania quirk

Pass the bananas

We have a republic to mend

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Evil spreadin’ across the land

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Whatever happened to the master plan?

Now America had its say

But Missus Murphy’s still in the way

Though it was Esper and Krebs got fired

Cuz they complained

Covid’s killed a quarter million or so

So now we gotta turn to Joe

Forget their brazen bid, how to tell’em

This is insane

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Evil spreadin’ across the land

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Time to stand up, Republicans

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Evil spreadin’ across the land

Me and you and a dad-blamed coup

Democracy to beat the band

………………………………

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!