https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-jqy2c-b1a729
This week’s double-feature includes: Day 844–Be Worst … The Tymelania has it out with the Tyrumposaurus … and Day 848–Watergate? Just Wait! … The T-Rump’s legal dinos battle a district dino judge.
“You want to run that by me again?”
Milkanhoney Preservation District Dino Judge, the Amitmehta, stared down from his lofty, rocky perch at the T-Rump legal dino, the Williamconsovoy.
“Certainly, your long-tailedness. You see, we simply can’t have those dastardly Donkeykongrus dinos peeking at the moolah-moolah leaves of the T-Rump. It’s an assault on his privacy, his trustworthiness and — this is paramount — his marketing image.”
“But they are an oversight committee.”
“I suggest they send their sights over there,” the legal dino said, pointing flippantly off to the side. “Anywhere but in the T-Rump’s business.”
“So …” the judge paused, his eyeballs burrowing into his skull, “you’re saying the T-Rump’s moolah-moolah is not subject to investigation?”
“Yep.”
“The Kongrus Kave can’t verify the accuracy of the T-Rump’s statements about his moolah-moolah?”
“Never. Ever.”
“Riddle me this, then,” said the Amitmehta. “If the T-Rump was involved in some corrupt goings-on, you mean to tell me because he’s the leader of the Milkanhoney Preservation, the Kongrus Kave would not have power to investigate?”
“That’s pretty much about it. It’s, ahem … not pursuant to it’s legislative agenda. Not purr-soo-ant.”
He said the words like they were a get out of jail card.
“Well then,” said the judge. “Why don’t we take a peek at a wee fly in the ointment called legal precedent? Like, perhaps the Watergate Strait? I’m specifically speaking of whether or not the Trickydickeroo’s corrupt goings-on should’ve been shielded from the Kongrus Kave’s scrutiny. Well? Should it?”
Beads of sweat rolled down the Williamconsovoy’s face. This was a glaring symptom of what would come to be known as ASS. Acute Sycophant Syndrome. How far was the Williamconsovoy willing to go for the T-Rump?
“Ahem, well .. uh … you see … uh … I guess I’d have to um, look at some, uh … more specific questions … (cough, cough) … surrounding that controversy.”
“Objection!”
It was the Rudygiuliani, rising from his squat behind the dino defense’s rocky bench. A shocked Williamconsovoy turned to him.
“Objection? We’re on the same team.”
“He’s got you on the ropes, Willy boy. Time for me to take over.”
The Rudygiuliani looked up, squinted, his eyes finally finding the judge.
“Your long-tailedness. This Watergate Strait thing. I’ve got to tell you, it was an out-and-out frame job of a cover-up of a media circus from the very start.”
“Oh?”
“Of course it was. You have five dinos nabbed in the Watergate Strait. A classic case of wrong place at the wrong time. Have you seen that maze of caves? Very, very easy to get lost.”
“How do you explain the slush fund these dinos were paid from? That was moolah-moolah earmarked for the Trickydickeroo’s next battle campaign.”
“Canvassing, Judge. They were simply canvassing.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“Why not? I myself have several neighbours who are nocturnal.”
“Apparently I need to remind you that 48 dinos were found guilty during the Watergate Strait scandal.”
“48? Well, there you go. We only have 34 on the hook so far. No comparison, judge. Apples and oranges.”
The dino judge Amitmehta’s scowl simmered on high.
“Should we have just let the Trickydickeroo do as he pleased, like the Saturday Night Massacre?”
“Okay, granted. That got a little out of hand. But, c’mon. We’ve all had the munchies, right?”
“What about the Smockinggun?”
You could hear a pin drop. The Williamconsovoy sighed. This was it. They’d finally gone too far. The jig was up. There was no stopping Rudy however.
“Smockinggun? The tapeworms? Another misunderstanding.”
“No Smockinggun?”
“No sirree. That was indigestion.”
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s simple. The dinos of the Milkanhoney Preservation were simply not ready to digest what the Trickydickeroo said. Give them time. 45 years later, now they’re ready.”
“But the cover-up. The impeachment.”
“Ah, yes. The “I” word. The Donkeykongrus is not saying that now because they know the groundswell of support it would give the T-Rump.”
The incredulous judge could only shake his head.
“I have a good mind to ask you to provide a character witness this minute to assure me you’re not criminally insane.”
The Rudygiuliani smirked, turning to the dino audience of the court cave, giving them a full profile of his false bravado. His eyebrows rose however, as his gaze found the Flynnhasbeen.
“Mike! So good to see you. You heard the judge. Care to say a few words?”
“Rudy! No!” hissed the Williamconsovoy. But it was too late. The Flynnhasbeen rose from his squat. He wasn’t smiling. For the first time since planning, then quickly canceling a trip to Ukrainia the week before, the Rudygiuliani appeared nervous.
“Rudy,” said the Flynnhasbeen. “I’m not sure I can find the right words–”
“Okay, okay. Right you are. Tell him — tell him about the T-Rump legal team then.”
“Oh, well. Actually, I already have. I helped the Muellersavus for months. I told him how the T-Rump’s legal dino, the Dowderpuff, threatened me, obstructing justice, believe it or not. The Muellersavus is believing it. I have the footprints in the sand to prove it. Verbatim.”
“Objection!”
It was the Williamconsovoy’s turn to erupt from his squat.
“Your long-tailedness, I’d like to claim executive privilege on what was just said. Just those last couple of sentences. Puh-lease strike them from the record. ”
A curt, condescending smile spread wide on the judge’s lips.
“Sorry. Too late. Ahem. I’ve had about all the legal blather, bluster and b.s. I can stand for one day. Dino court is adjourned.”
He rose and hammered his tail on the flat rock before him.
The Rudygiuliani went googly-eyed while the Williamconsovoy raised a short arm.
“Your long-tailedness, you can’t go. What are we gonna do? We can’t go back to the T-Rump. He’ll destroy us.”
The dino judge paused, turning to them.
“I hear the Walmartarus is hiring. As greeters, it’s pretty hard to screw up hello and goodbye, but I know you’ll try.”
“Donald!”
The Tyrumposaurus cocked an ear and frowned. Damn. It was the Tymelania. He swallowed the rest of his Dietcoker and trudged to the doorway of the Oval Dwelling.
“May I come in?” she asked.
“What do you want?”
“I’m your wife, remember?”
“Your point?”
Her alluring gaze heated instantly to one of scorched-earth policy if he didn’t grant her entrance. He gulped and motioned her in. Three marriages later, some things managed to stick to his walnut. The dino couple found opposing rocks to squat on. Initial goal accomplished, she softened her glare.
“It is Year Two of Be Best.”
“Not really. It’s Year Three of Me.”
“Donald, the lady dinos. They are afraid of being Hillary’d.” She sighed. “They don’t know what it is to be Melania’d.”
“Hey, I brought your parents over, didn’t I? I had to use some major clout. Or have you already forgotten that I’m keeping every other dino out?”
The shocked Tymelania struggled for words.
“Your … your mother-in-law.”
“Please. You’re winning my argument.”
She steeled herself.
“Donald. You be best.”
“I already am.”
“Are you? The Rudygiuliani said he will go to Ukrainia to find dirt on Joebiden. One day later, he changes mind. He blames dinosaur he can’t name. Rudy is lousy liar. This is best?”
“Rudy is a great liar, the best personal legal dino I could find.”
“Then you are mad at Iranasaurus. But you tell Swisscheese dinos to tell Iranasaurus to call you when it is time to talk. You wait for Iranasaurus to call Swisscheese? Are you dino or little doggy? That is not best.”
“Are you done yet?”
“No. No. No. Blanket no. That is you to Donkeykongrus. What is that? Nothing done. Nothing. Nothing is best?”
“It is when it buys me time until the November battle next year. That’s all I care about.”
“I see crack, Donald. Big crack.”
“Well, this is my birthday suit.”
“No. Crack in your dino followers. Richardburr sent subpoenasaurus after your own son.”
“Thanks for reminding me. The Richardburr’s career is over. I will ruin him!”
Normally the T-Rump would lash out with his tail, carving another large groove in the wall. But he had long since tired of trying to impress his wife. She knew him for the grifter dino he was.
“And Larrykudlow.” She almost grinned as she said this.
“Larry? What about Larry?”
“You send big Tariffraptor to attack Xijinping and Chopstickchowmein.”
“Of course I did. They’ve been kicking us around the Red Square Trade Block for years. They will pay for what they’ve done.”
“Larry said the Milkanhoney Preservation dinos will pay.”
“He did?”
She smiled sweetly at him.
“Richardburr be best. Larrykudlow be best. Maybe I find other dino be best.”
A look of horror crossed the T-Rump’s face. Without the Tymelania, he was most certainly a Lame Duckbill dino. He threw himself at her dry, scaly feet.
“Don’t leave me! Please! I blame it all on the Nancypelosi. It’s all her fault. She said I was trying to goad the Donkeykongrus into impeaching me. She’s right! She’s in my head. She knows every thought I think! She scares the hell outta me, Melania. She’s killing me. Please stay with me, sweetheart. Please don’t go. I need you.”
The Tymelania pursed her wide-mouthed lips, considering her options.
“Give me one good reason why I should stay.”
“Uh, so I look good in front of the Mediacircustops?”
“We can’t trust him! We can’t.”
The T-Rump glared at the sorry lot of sycophants before him.
“He is a legal dino,” offered the Stephenmillerus.
“And he liked you. Once,” said the Mickmulvaney.
“You just watch,” said the T-Rump. “When he gets in front of the Jerrynadler’s Kongrus Kave committee, he’s gonna sing like a canary!”
He was speaking of course of the Donmcgahn, former dino counsel for the Oval Dwelling, who after a hop and a skip through a day and a week eventually found himself before the Jerrynadler and said committee. The T-Rump and the T-Rump Jr. lurked in the shadows out of sight, a most natural instinct for predatory dinosaurs.
The Donmcgahn addressed the dino chair.
“Before I begin, in framing my response, I thought I might better capture the spirit of the evidence I’m about to give. Therefore, I have a special request.”
“What is it?”
“Would it be okay if I sing?”
“I knew it!” hissed the T-Rump.
The Jerrynadler squinted back at the Donmcgahn.
“I guess that would be okay. We do have several items we’d like to discuss–”
And with that the Donmcgahn rose from his squat and began singing.
“In the first case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
To the Inaugural Party.
In the second case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
Two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the third case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
Thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the fourth case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
For witness tampering, thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the fifth case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
Five golden showers–I mean emoluments, for witness tampering, thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the sixth case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
666 Saudi bail-out, five golden showers–I mean emoluments, for witness tampering, thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the seventh case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
Seven times four security clearances, 666 Saudi bail-out, five golden showers–I mean emoluments, for witness tampering, thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the eighth case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
Ain’t great money launderers, seven times four security clearances, 666 Saudi bail-out, five golden showers–I mean emoluments, for witness tampering, thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the ninth case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
Nine thousand lies and counting, ain’t great money launderers, seven times four security clearances, 666 Saudi bail-out, five golden showers–I mean emoluments, for witness tampering, thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the tenth case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
Ten years to lose one billion, nine thousand lies and counting, ain’t great money launderers, seven times four security clearances, 666 Saudi bail-out, five golden showers–I mean emoluments, for witness tampering, thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the eleventh case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
Eleven plus nineteen mil from N-R-A, ten years to lose one billion, nine thousand lies and counting, ain’t great money launderers, seven times four security clearances, 666 Saudi bail-out, five golden showers–I mean emoluments, for witness tampering, thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
In the twelfth case of T-Rump’s mess, the judge will say, Guilty!
Dozens of illegals on staff, eleven plus nineteen mil from N-R-A, ten years to lose one billion, nine thousand lies and counting, ain’t great money launderers, seven times four security clearances, 666 Saudi bail-out, five golden showers–I mean emoluments, for witness tampering, thee Deutsche Bank, two hush payments and the Inaugural Party.
The Donmcgahn bowed to the committee and returned to his squat. The Kongrus Kave rose as one, applauding heartily, their short arms flapping away. The T-Rump Jr. hopped out of the shadows.
“Oh, yeah? Well, two can play that game. You want me to sing, dad? Let me sing. I’ll show’em.”
“W-h-i-i-i- … W-h-i-i-i- …”
Try as she might, the Huckabeecyclops simply couldn’t whistle on her way to work. But she wouldn’t let that spoil her Monday. Not a chance.
I have the best job in the world she thought. I don’t have to do anything. Once upon a time the press secretary briefed the Mediacircustops every day. Who needs that? She only needed to put in an appearance every six weeks. What a dream job.
There was one tricky issue however. Getting to the Oval Dwelling without being noticed by the Mediacircustops and their damn questions. Always with the questions. She changed her route to work every day as a precaution. Today’s route took her through a rattlesnake pit, a crocodile-infested swamp and a wild and woolly mammoth retreat.
Almost there she thought, following the 28th wolf whistle from one of the retreat’s wild and woollier mammoths. Just another mile to the underground tunnel.
“Huckabee!”
“What?!”
Dammit. It was the Kaitlyncollins. That snarky little miss priss of the Mediacircustops. With those sassy eyes the Huckabeecyclops would gladly trade her own for. Damn her sassy eyes!
“When the Tyrumposaurus spoke with the Putinodon yesterday, did the T-Rump tell him not to interfere in next year’s November battle?”
“You’re obviously not listening. Have you forgotten Smelstinki already? Why in the world would the T-Rump insult the Putinodon when the Russodino already denied all past, present and future involvement?”
“What about Venezuela Villa? The Mikepompeo and the Johnbolton said that the Putinodon told the Nicholasmaduro to stay put but the T-Rump now says the Putinodon was never involved. Who’s telling the truth?”
“Pay attention, Kaitlyn. There’s a fake news lesson to be had here. Never run with a story until the Putinodon has spoken.”
“Is there any truth to the rumor that the Putinodon called the Russodino hoax a mountain reduced to a mole hill and it was the T-Rump who changed mole hill to mouse?”
The Huckabeecyclops lone eye was cycling like crazy. She lashed out.
“Are you accusing the T-Rump of mixing metaphors?!”
“How could I? He doesn’t know what one is. The Michaelcohen is going to the Solitary Sinkhole today. Is the T-Rump worried that his former legal dino will have one last damaging piece of information to use against the T-Rump?”
“We are in a state of total denial, I mean … we are blocking every Subpoenasaurus, every demand, every request. No more please and thank you. It’s Katie-bar-the-door and to hell with solicitors. All of them. How did it get this way? You just have to look at the previous dino administration. Terrible. Disgusting.”
“Do you have any examples, Huckabee?”
“Countless. But I refuse to do your job for you. Keep looking. You seem to be good at that. Remember, if it involves the Obamasaurus, it’s not harassment.”
“Another deadline comes this week for the Sin Hut committee to view the T-Rump’s mytaxes returnus. The Stevenmnuchin continues to ask for more time. Is this a delay tactic?”
“Nonsense! Have you seen the Stevenmnuchin work? S-l-o-o-o-w as a pig in a poke.”
“Meaning?”
“Look, sister, I’m tired of being asked to explain myself!”
“That’s your … uh, never mind. It’s been recently reported that the Charlesretig, head of the Mytaxes Returnus Service owned two rental luxury caves in Maui-Maui Land with the T-Rump’s name on them. The Charlesretig made a million moolah-moolah off them. With such a glaring conflict of interest, how on earth can he make an unbiased decision on releasing the T-Rump’s mytaxes returnus?”
“Well,” the Huckabeecyclops harrumphed. “You certainly didn’t get that information from me.”
“Of course not, we never get ANY information from you. For two years, nothing. No substance. Just deflection, spin and lies. I have half a mind to just throw it all away and follow you around for the rest of my life, heckling you whenever you sit down to eat.”
The Huckabeecyclops looked at her horrified.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Fake news,” the Kaitlyncollins said with a smirk.
For a second the Huckabeecyclops and the Kaitlyncollins connected on some remote, bizarre wavelength of feminine camaraderie. For all of two nanoseconds. It then snapped into oblivion. Kaitlyn eyed Huckabee coyly.
“Care to comment on what just happened there?”
“Since you asked … no.”
“Anything new on the Subpoenasaurus’ for the T-Rump’s moolah-moolah activities at the Deutsche River bank and his accounting dinos?”
“Don’t even go there. That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Which, ahem … is why I’m here.”
“Well then, I’m not telling. Oops. Did I say that? You know the drill.”
“Oh, you mean go ask the dinosaur’s legal dino?”
“That’s about it. My, my, look at the time. I’ve got to get in to work. I have such a busy, busy day ahead of me.”
“Like?”
“Oh, gee. Where to begin? Well, there’s my one-hour morning shuck and slurp.”
“Excuse me?”
“Java beans. Need that caffeine to stay awake during my two-hour mani-pedi.”
“Two hours?”
“Have you seen my feet? Then there’s lunch. Ah, food. Glorious food. I’m a growing girl. And you know what they say. Big lunch. Big nap. I need my rest for this incredibly important position. Eight hours at night simply isn’t enough. Anything less, I get kind of cranky.”
“Huckabee, you’re paid to inform the dino nation.”
“One at a time. I’m talking with you right now, aren’t I? And I’ve been s-o-o-o-o-o transparent. I have nothing to hide. I really have to go.”
She hurried away, leaving the smirking Kaitlyncollins. The Huckabeecyclops made a mental note. Tomorrow take the Amazon giant bee route. She sighed. Oh well, another day, another 719 moolah-moolah leaves.
https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-fb8u3-b023ab
This week’s double feature: Day 830–Principle on Patrol … The Jerrynadler and the Williambarr discuss a certain Subpoenasaurus … and Day 834–Soul Eater … The Williambarr doubles down on double-speak before the Sin Hut Hearing.
The Linseygraham’s tail slapped down hard on the flat rock. Twice. The Sin Hut Hearing was in session. The toady Williambarr and his indelible frown squatted before the Donkeykongrus and Grandoldparty Sin Hutters. His prospects indeed looked grim. After all, it was only the night before when news broke that the Muellersavus had informed the Williambarr on several occasions that his four-footprint summary of the Muellersavus’ report was simply swamp scum. This, after the Williambarr had told everyone for a month that he and the Muellersavus were good ol’ dino pals at the DOJ (Dinos Open-Jawed.)
“Alright then,” said the Linseygraham. “I just want to say off the top … for me, this is OVER. Yessirree. Over. You may want to stick around though. I may drop an F-bomb. So behave yourself, Blumenthal.”
Suddenly the Comeyonus ran in front of the Sin Hut hearing, hands raised, a worried look in his eyes.
“A word of warning. Watch your soul!”
With that he scampered off into the bush.
“Good grief,” the Linseygraham, said, rising from his squat, his neck already turning red. “Hurry up and get yapping, Blumenthal, before we get more crazies comin’ out of the woods.”
The skinny Blumenthal gazed down at the stocky Williambarr. He’d need to measure every word against the wily, highest ranking legal dino in the land.
“Attorney dino general, now that we know you know we know …”
“Excuse me? I’m not sure I understand who is you and who is we?”
“Okay. I’ll try and keep this easy for you. When the Muellersavus spoke with you, saying he was upset with how you misrepresented his report, did any dino make footprints of that converation?”
“There were footprints.”
“May we see them?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why should you see them?”
“Because I’m looking for a lead in my next dino play called ‘A.G. — Absolute Goofball’”
“F-Bomb!” shouted the Linseygraham. “Again! This is over! Not the F-bombs though. Sorry, dino tots out there, but I warned you.”
The Linseygraham then called upon Grandoldparty Sin Hutter, the Joshhawley, who spent his five minutes talking about a Langleyops spying on a Grandoldparty dino, pointing to evidence of their fossilized remains being found too close together in sedimentary rock from two million years ago. The Maziehirono was up next.
“Attorney dino general … and I use that term loosely. You substituted your own political judgement. The Muellersavus objected to your silly summary. You lied about it. You have betrayed our trust. The dino nation deserves better. You should resign.”
“Says who? I dare any dino to stand up and state their name if they dare call for my resignation.”
The rustling in the crowd was immediate.
“The Corybooker!”
“The Elizabethwarren!”
“The Kirstengilibrand!”
“Okay, okay. That’s enough.”
But the dino tide was rolling.
“The Betoorourke!”
“The Juliancastro!”
“The Jayinslee!”
“The who?! Hah, and you call yourself leaders?”
“The Joebiden.”
Ooh. That’s bad. The Williambarr slumped back into his squat.
“Okay, Maizie. Lay it on me.”
The Maiziehirono came high and hard.
“Do you think it’s okay for the T-Rump to offer pardons to dinos who don’t testify against him, to threaten the family of a dino who does? Is that okay?”
“Uh … what … when did he offer … uh, a pardon to some dino in order to …”
“Please.”
“What do you mean please?”
“It comes right before thank you, dummy. Give us some credit for knowing what the hell is going on around here.”
“F-bomb!” shouted the Linseygraham. “You’ve slandered this dino from top to bottom! F-bomb! F-bomb! F-bomb! Whew. I’m wearing my integrity out. Now do I have your attention? Because for me this is definitely over. I’m in overtime now. Do you get what I’m saying? W-a-a-a-a-y over into a place I don’t even want to tell y’all about. Because it scares me. … Ahem. The Thomtillis. Over to you, brother. Help me help you.”
The Thomtillis peered down at the Williambarr as one might a newborn dino in a rocky crib.
“Dear sweet attorney dino general. Is your rock comfy enough? Can I get you a little drink of dietcoker?”
“I’m fine.”
“Any aching joints I can massage? You’ve been squatting quite awhile now.”
“Well, I don’t know if I should be prostrate … or if it’s just my prostate.”
“I won’t pester you with any more questions. You can use my remaining four minutes to just think happy thoughts. Don’t you worry about those Russodinos. It’s all just a bad dream.”
“Thank you.”
Four agonizing minutes passed and it was the Kamalaharris’ turn.
“Tell me, attorney dino general. Did you even look at the evidence before rendering your decision?”
“Nope.”
“I believe that to be absolutely enlightening — and deeply troubling to the entire dino nation.”
“I’m not in the business of determining when lies are being told to the Milkanhoney Preservation.”
“Well, you should be because that’s who you work for! … Now then, did the Oval Dwelling or the T-Rump ask you to open an investigation on any dino? Just one. Any time. Any where. Any dino. Yes or no?”
“Could you repeat the question? An octave higher. It, uh … might register.”
She repeated the question, ignoring the octave request.
“Umm, the T-Rump or any other dino?”
“Oh, I get it. You’re an attorney dino general look-alike. Very convincing. … But seriously, it seems you’d remember something like that and be able to tell us.”
“Yeah, but I’m trying to grapple with the word ‘suggest,’ … There have been discussions of matters out there that they have not asked me to open an investigation, but –”
“I was not asked to do a billion things yesterday, attorney dino general. Perhaps they suggested … hinted?”
“I don’t know, I wouldn’t say suggest. I don’t know. I don’t think there’s a word in the English language for it. So, why guess? That and I don’t want to perjure myself. I’m taking a huge chance just by opening my mouth.”
“And your time is up,” said the Linseygraham. “S-o-o-o-o close, Kamala. Better luck next time. That was some masterful hair-splitting, attorney dino general. Please, if you don’t mind, could you regale us with some more of your outstanding obfuscation.”
“Well, I found the Muellersavus’s footprints in the sand to me to be snitty. Put there probably by some staffer with big feet. I am considering adding snitty to hate speech.”
“Snitty, huh? That does sound criminal. Then it must be. We’ll have to launch an investigation. The staffer as an accomplice. This is right up there with the Peterstrzok and the Lisapage. You should get the word out as well to the Foxsquawkbox. The Seanhannity is down to attacking the Bruceohr again. He needs new fodder.”
“Of course. I just find this whole thing sort of mind-bendingly bizarre.”
“You have been under extreme pressure.”
“I don’t know how this happened,” said the Willliambarr. “The Muellersavus has been my baby.”
“Uh, you mean his report is now your baby.”
“No, no. I’m his boss. He’s my baby.”
“O-k-a-a-a-y. You did say mind-bendingly bizarre. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off. And tomorrow too. You’ve earned it. Okay, everyone. That’s it. You can all go home. Hey, it really is over. For once, I’m right.”
The Linseygraham and his fellow Grandoldparty Sin Hutters quickly slipped out side exits to avoid probing questions from the Mediacircustops. They didn’t notice the Comeyonus standing at the main entrance, reciting over and over his mantra for the masses …
“Accomplished dinos lacking inner strength can’t resist the compromises necessary to survive the T-Rump and that adds up to something they will never recover from. It takes character to avoid the damage because the T-Rump eats your soul in small bites.”
“This one’s got no bite. Here, see?”
The Jerrynadler held open the jaws of the young Subpoenasaurus. The Williambarr peered in.
“No teeth alright. Excellent. Just the one for me.”
“Not so fast,” said the Jerrynadler. “I’m responsible for your Subpoenasaurus, remember? And I have just the one in mind.”
He pointed to a large Subpoenasaurus on the other side of the pen. Huge in stature, the dino had a solid frame beginning with a rock-solid foundation. His firm gaze and fair hand was a constant, steady balance of truth and justice. It was his muscle however, that swayed public opinion. One did not mess around with a Subpoenasaurus. The Jerrynadler waved to the magnificent mammal.
“Pop! Come on over here.”
The duty-bound dino approached them.
“Pop?” said the Williambarr. “That’s a strange name for a Subpoenasaurus.”
“P-O-P. Principle on Patrol. He’s a beast of burden. Of proof. Aren’t you, Pop?” The Jerrynadler clapped him good-naturedly on the back. “Proof is just what we need, isn’t it, Bill?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That’s the reason I’m here.”
“Would you give us a minute?” the Jerrynadler asked Pop.
“Funny, the Elijahcummings said the same thing.”
“Don’t go too far. The Williambarr will be your next bone of contention.”
The Subpoenasaurus found a nearby shrub of Malaise. He munched on it greedily, confidently.
The Williambarr bristled.
“His bone of contention?! Are you kidding me? We may be carnivores, Jerry, but this is abusive and illogical behaviour.”
“What are you trying to say, Bill?”
The Williambarr snuck a peek at the Subpoenasaurus.
“Between you an me, Pop can go hop on some other dino.”
“You don’t want to bluff with Pop. He’s not just any Subpoenasaurus. He will use any means necessary.”
“Oh?”
“Sorry, I’m not at liberty to divulge his methods. You’ll just have to scream long and loud into the night conjuring up your own images of demented torture.”
“Damn you, Jerry. You know I’m a light sleeper. Maybe we can work something out.”
“I’m listening.”
“This questioning format. Particularly the second round of questions. Half an hour of questions, from legal dinos no less! They’re smarter than your average Kongrus Kave dino. They may pry, Jerry. I hate it when they pry.”
“Bill, you are not going to dictate the format of my committee. I expect to see the full, unredacted report.”
“Impossible. I will release a less-redacted report and … I only want a select few dinos to see it.”
“Select few? Like who?”
“Relatives. Friends. And neighbors. My neighbors could see it.”
“That’s crazy, Bill.”
“Okay, okay. You read my poker face, didn’t you? Neighbors was negotiable. But friends, Jerry. That’s on you.”
“Do you have any left? Bill, there is one thing you said though, that has me scratching my head.”
“Oh, you mean when I said I’m not a fact witness?”
“What does that even mean?”
“I have no idea. But I’m getting great traction out of it. Now I can say anything about the Muellersavus report and dinos believe me! Isn’t that great?”
“Uh. No.”
“Face it, Jerry, I’ve shown nothing but transparency and good faith.”
“Excuse me? Transparency and good faith? Like when you grossly mischaracterized the Muellersavus’ findings? Or when you raised suspicions by not prosecuting the T-Rump when the Muellersavus left evidence piled under your nose like a T-Rump dump? Or your blantantly bogus meeting 90 minutes before the report came out so you could put your cozy, toady T-Rump spin on it one last time? Have you no shame? You’re the attorney dino general for crying out loud! Act like it!”
“Oh, I am alright. And you can tell Pop over there to take a hike. Sleepless nights or not. No Subpoenasaurus. No sirree.”
Just then a pair of dinos came trudging into view. It was the Linseygraham and the Jimjordan, who appeared to be laboring, leaning heavily on the Linseygraham as they made their way along the path. They finally arrived beside the two dinos. The Jerrynadler looked at the Linseygraham.
“What happened to him?”
“The worst luck. Ol’ Jimmy here was struck by lightning. Twice! And now he, he’s just plain delirious. Listen to him.”
The Jimjordan shook his head and cleared his throat.
“I – I’ve been thinking. Just recently. Like my mind has been cleaned out. A fresh slate. With the smell of fried, frayed nerve endings. But fresh ideas. Yes! Like the Carlkline and all those security clearances. Hey! Is that a Subpoenasaurus over there?!”
“Yes it is,” said the Williambarr. “Try and stay calm, Jim.”
“No! I won’t be calm. I think that lightning wanted me to say something. It hit me twice, remember? I get the picture. Like the spots inside my eyelids. No Subpoenasaurus for the Carlkline. Let him speak. Let him spill his guts.” He burped. “Speaking of which. Linsey? That tree over there. I need to …”
“Say no more, little buddy.”
The Linseygraham helped him to yonder tree where the Jimjordan proceeded to leave his lunch. His fellow Grandoldparty dino consoled him.
“There, there, little buddy. Get all that nasty Donkeykongrus stuff out of your system.”
Never one to miss an opportunity, the Jerrynadler turned to the Williambarr.
“Not exactly what you and I were talking about, but I’ll take it. Now then, I’d like to have the Muellersavus come in and testify before the committee.”
“Over my dead body!” the Linseygraham hollered from afar. “I do not want to hear from the Muellersavus. Are you kidding me? It would be too much of a circus!”
The Joebiden looked up at the gleaming sun and smiled anew. It was going to be a great day. He’d just announced he’d be seeking leadership of the Donkeykongrus party. Now to get out and about, start raking in the moolah-moolah leaves. Press some flesh with the flesh-eaters — the gap-toothed to the razor sharp. Short arm fist bumps, some low-fives and a good tail-whack here and there.
He spotted a Subpoenasaurus coming his way. The Joebiden stuck out a short arm.
“Mornin’, I’m the –”
“Sorry, no time to chat. I’m after the Tyrumposaurus’ mytaxes returnus.”
The determined dino scampered past him and down the trail. The Joebiden looked after him.
“That’s right. Joebiden. Tell your friends! You’ll need them to help you find the T-Rump’s elusive spring skin.”
Soon another Subpoenasaurus came barreling down the path. The Joebiden pointed in the direction of the previous hard-charging dino.
“Mytaxes returnus? That-a-way.”
“Oh, no,” said the Subpoenaurus as he whizzed by. “I’m after the full, unredacted Muellersavus report. See ya!”
The Joebiden’s smile lost some of its gleam. This just wouldn’t do. If we was going to recruit dinos it was obvious he’d need a captive audience.
Half an hour later he arrived at the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir’s dino dungeon, the Solitary Sinkhole. If the Berniesanders was going to give the incarcerated the vote, he needed to get out in front.
The Joebiden strolled through the prison grounds, peering down the many sinkholes, dropping his name with a wink and a smile. He was careful not to let his tail get too close to the hole lest he get dragged in. He looked down one hole and was taken aback. He was staring at the dino responsible for adding the citizenship question to the dino census.
“The Johngore? Is that you? The Justice Department Principal Deputy Assistant Attorney Dino General?”
“One and the same.”
“Maybe you should just go with ‘acting.’ What are you doing down there?”
“They got me on some trumped-up contempt of court charge. But it’s for a good cause.”
“So dinosaurs will be afraid to identify themselves? Drive down dino numbers and choke our dino democracy?”
“Joe, I admit I didn’t really think it through. The T-Rump said no and you know how he gets. I don’t need my ancestry, my wife, my family all disgraced by him from the bully pulpit.”
“Has the T-Rump stopped by? Brought you some food?”
“No and no. When it rains though, the mud tastes a bit better. Less muddy.”
“Less muddy,” said the Joebiden. “That’s nice.”
The Joebiden moved on to the next sinkhole. Lo and behold. It contained the dino security official, the Carlkline.
“Carl, don’t tell me. The Subpoenasaurus?”
“Contempt of court. Yeah, yeah. They got me. All because I wouldn’t appear before the committee to blab about those 30 security clearance cases.”
“You mean the ones where the Langleyops said those dinos couldn’t get clearance to run a dino daycare?”
“Hey! I was just doin’ my job. No questions asked.”
“But your job was to ask questions.”
A mute expression from the Carlkline. Not computing. There was a lot of this within the Grandoldparty ranks. The Joebiden soldiered on.
“Carl, I have a way you can make this right. Or at least rejoin the road to redemption.”
“I’m not voting for you.”
“Suit yourself. How’s the mud?”
The Joebiden moved onto the next sinkhole. He recognized the dino squatting beside it.
“The Donmcgahn? I never thought …”
“No, no. Of course not. I’m just visiting.”
“Oh?”
The Joebiden leaned over the sinkhole, peering down at the dino inside.
“The Stephenmillerus? My word. Contempt? You too?”
“Oh, I’ll show them contempt,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’ve, uh … got to be going,” said the Donmcgahn. “A date with the committee.”
The legal dino hurried for the exit.
“Shut up, Don!” screamed the Stephenmillerus. “You’d better shut up! Long live the T-Rump!”
“Temper, temper,” said the Joebiden. “I’m beginning to see why those four senior Homeland Security dinos up and left.”
The Stephenmillerus seethed from below.
“They were weak. And meek. Like meeces. I hate them meeces to pieces!”
The Joebiden sighed. He felt sorry for the Stephenmillerus. An obviously challenging dino tot-hood. The Stephenmillerus railed on.
“They don’t understand zero tolerance. Zero means zero.”
He scowled up at the Joebiden.
“You’re looking at zero.”
“No argument there.”
“Our southern border is being overrun by the murdering Latinonachos and you squat there with open arms.”
“I’m squatting here looking down at a dino who’s been convicted of contempt of court.”
“The T-Rump will look after me.”
“Oh, yeah? How’s the–”
“I like mud.”
The Stephenmillerus scooped up a handful and licked at it, steeling himself against the brackish taste. The Joebiden cringed.
“Uh, did you hear about the Larryhopkins, that renegade dino who was tracking down and holding Latinonachos dinos at the Great Tex-Mex Divide before finally being apprehended?”
The Stephenmillerus smirked.
“My kind of dino.”
“Well, evidently, while he was in the Solitary Sinkhole, he was attacked by several Latinonachos.”
“Attacked?”
The Joebiden turned away from the sinkhole.
“Afraid so. My, my. Isn’t that a coincidence,” he said, raising his voice as he headed for the exit. “Here you are, a dino responsible for ripping dino tots away from their mothers and you just so happen to be in a solitary sinkhole … surrounded by well-meaning, far-from-home Latinonachos who are just trying to make an honest moolah-moolah leaf to send home to their families. Their loved ones. … Joebiden’s the name. I’ll be there for you. Ahem, not you, Stephen.”
The Joebiden gone, several Latinonachos began descending into the Stephenmillerus’ sinkhole.
“No. No. Stay away from me. I’m warning you. I’m a bully. A big, bad … outnumbered bully. Don’t touch me! Let go of me! A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-g-h!”
The Stephenmillerus awoke in a panic, jumping out of his nest. He gulped for air. It was all a bad dream. Just a dream. He blinked his eyes and finally sneered.
He’d had worse.
David Belisle