Tag: Politics

The good dinos of the Milkanhoney Preservation were at the brink. Literally. Their very well being depended upon it. At their back were the somber, blowing, bellowing Winds of Impeachment, a freak dino dust bowl atmospheric effect that brought enough hot air to leave your head spinning. Before their large dino feet was the Fullbore-Partisan Divide, a great chasm separating them from the other side. 

Fortunately, there was a narrow, natural bridge across the 50-yard divide, a bridge with a fork in it no less. One side led true north to the High Road. The other side took a southern path to the Wastelands. It was not a trek for the faint of heart, as the dizzying look down to the swampy depths of Troubled Waters reminded them.

The unwashed masses — it had been a long day in the sun — peered across the bridge at the choice before them. On the High Road, stood the respected Donkeykongrus. Over in the Wastelands were the resolute Grandoldparty dinos. A secondary divide, the chasm between the two parties themselves was only five feet but it may as well have been five miles. No dino even considered making the jump.

The undecided dinos put their heads together because two walnuts were better than one. They barely had a chance to crack nuts when the clouds parted, a Trollertweety squawked and a Whistleblower dino appeared. He took in his vast audience, raised his short arms to them and said …

“I’ve been with the Tyrumposaurus now for two years. That is to say, I’ve been to hell and back. Half a dozen dinos with direct knowledge — that’s right, dino gospel — they spoke to me. And I listened. I also made Comeyonus-like copious footprints in the sand. Boy, do I have a story to tell. I will speak to you soon. That’s why you really should follow me when I head north, right this way to the High Road.”

“Hey! You can’t say that. Only I can say that!”

It was the T-Rump on the Wastelands side.

“Stop right there! Don’t listen to him! He’s a dino spy! Hold me back. I’m gonna execute him like we did in the good ol’ days.”

No dinos stepped forward to hold the T-Rump back. He stepped behind another dino to make it look that way. He realized the situation’s awkwardness, coughed and stepped back in front.

“Okay, Mick. We have a lot of dinos over there who want to pick me. What’s the plan?”

The Mickmulvaney gulped.

“Plan? Sorry, boss. I got nothin’.”

“Idiot! What do you mean nothing? You’ve known about this for a month!”

The T-Rump looked up at the many gawking dinos from across the abyss.

“Uh, that’s right. I’ve got my best dinos on this. Tell him how great you are, Mick.” 

“Not as great as you are, T-Rump.”

“Good answer. Now get out of my sight. And don’t forget to remind me tomorrow to consider firing you. You know how I forget about these things.”

“Will do, boss.”

The T-Rump turned to the unwashed masses across the way.

“This is T-Rump harassment to the highest degree of T-Rump harassment!”

Some dinos on the other side scratched their heads.

“It’s bad,” the T-Rump continued. “Tell’em how bad, Matt. You got all the talking points, didn’t you? Tell me you got all the talking points.”

“I – I did. Ahem. Did you, uh … have a preference for which one first?”

This was taking too long. The T-Rump motioned for him to get yapping. The Mattgaetz looked across the divide.

“The Donkeykongrus are playing pin the tail on impeachment. You know that ‘pin the tail on the donkeysaurus’ child’s game?”

Blank stares from the multitude of dinos.

“You know, where you take the tail and you, you … you pin it, see …”

The dinos weren’t getting it, though it looked like the Mattgaetz was going to get it from the T-Rump. The Nancypelosi called out from the High Road.  

“Your forefathers, if they were here today, they would line their tails together and say this is a cover-up of a cover-up.”

The undecided dinos mulled this over, many nodding in agreement.

“This … This, I tell you,” said the Devilnunesmemo in his doomsday baritone, “is a sad, sad day for the Milkanhoney Preservation. Just miserable. I don’t know how I’m keeping myself from jumping off this cliff. When the Adamschiff has the audacity to fabricate elements of what the T-Rump said …”

“I understood it,” came a lone voice from the other side. “It was a parody, bozo.”

“That it was,” said the Adamschiff from the High Road. “Would you like to hear it again?”

A roar of approval went up from the dino nation.

“I’m gonna put you in touch with dinos and not just any dinos. I’m gonna put you in touch with the Williambarr. He’s got the whole weight of the legal dinos behind him and I’m gonna put you in touch with Rudy. You’re gonna love him, trust me. You know what I’m asking, so I’m only going to say this a few more times in a few more ways. And by the way, don’t call me again; I’ll call you when you’ve done what I asked.”

Laughter rang out across the abyss. The T-Rump fumed.

“They’re laughing at me.”

“No, no,” said the Stephaniegrisham. “They’re laughing with him. With him. Not at you.” She bit her tongue.

“Oh. Okay.”

The Jimjordan jumped in.

“Hold on there. What about the Joebiden’s son, the Hunterbiden. He’s over there in the Ukraine Plain, making 50-thousand moolah-moolah leaves in the Ukraine and he doesn’t know a thing. What about that, huh?”

“That’s nothing,” said the T-Rump. “Why, Donny boy, T-Rump Jr., and the Tyvanka, they make more money than that when they’re off the Preservation.”

“T-Rump,” hissed the Jimjordan. You’re killin’ me. You’re killin’ yourself.”

“I can’t kill myself. I could shoot myself in the middle of Crime Square and I’d get away with it.”

“You’d be dead, T-Rump,” said the Stephaniegrisham, straining to cry a fake tear.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Do the right thing, T-Rump. Resign!”

It was the Betosaurus.

The T-Rump slowly shook his head and lowered his voice.

“I hate that guy.”

The Kellyanneconvixway chimed in.

“Where’s the Mediacircustops accusations of the Oval Dwelling stonewalling now? We know what the T-Rump said to the Zelensky because the T-Rump is s-o-o-o transparent.”

“Ix-nay on the ansparence-tray,” said the Stephenmillerus.

On the High Road, the five Badassasaurae stepped forward and the Elissaslotkin addressed the crowd.

“Having the leader of the Dino Nation use leverage over a foreign dino to get dirt on an opponent, well, as national security dinos, that just cut too close to the bone.”

The dinos across the divide all cringed as one. No dinosaur liked being reminded about their bones. En masse, the dinosaurs began crossing the bridge their tails pointing toward the High Road.

“Send in Rudy!” shouted the T-Rump.

“God, no,” the Mickmulvaney said shuddering.

The Rudygiuliani stumbled out of the Grandoldparty dino pack, waving his arms, bug-eyed and gnashing his teeth.

“I wouldn’t cooperate with the Adamschiff. … I didn’t say that! … I said I will consider it. …  I wouldn’t cooperate with the Adamschiff. … I didn’t say that! … I said I will consider it.”

A dino mother leaned down to her little one. 

“Don’t listen to the crazy old dino.” She took her dino tot by the hand. “Come along, dear. We’re taking the High Road.”

It was the promise heard round the world. The Whistleblower dino controversy with the Ukraine Plain continued to plague the Oval Dwelling. The Tyrumposaurus had sent out several fleets of Trollertweeties to rake the countryside with his ever-changing side of the story but this latest scandal was a month’s worth of debacles rolled into one. It needed reinforcements badly. Some Grandoldparty dino had to go mainstream. That is, visit with the Mediacircustops to defend the T-Rump come hell or high swamp water.

The T-Rump surveyed his cast of cronies in the Oval Dwelling. Should he send in the Stephenmillerus? No. Better to keep his fire and fury focused on dino migration. Controlled chaos as it were. What about the Rudygiuliani? Lately, he’d broken his own record by contradicting himself in four seconds flat. No, this called for a dino who could just squat there, play dumb and pull it off without even trying.

“Steven! Get out there and … don’t say anything!” 

That was how the Stevenmnuchin came to be squatting across from the Jaketapper. The Secretary Dino of Moolah-Moolah stared straight ahead, his jaw set, his lips tight. It was a convincing simple stooge look. His determination spoke volumes however. He was ready to sell out his own mother and hers too if necessary to save the T-Rump. That was the great mystique of the all-mighty moolah-moolah leaf.

“Steven,” began the Jaketapper, “I just want to start by asking, were you there when the T-Rump was pressuring the Zelensky to investigate the Joebiden’s son?”

“I, uh … was not there. But I’ve been in on many other T-Rump conversations with plenty of other dinos. All squeaky clean. All listening in. No issues whatsoever. Because of course the T-Rump never has issues with anything.”

“O-k-a-a-a-y. Not going down that rabbit hole. In those other conversations you were privy to, would it be common for the T-Rump to pressure foreign leaders to investigate political rivals here in the Milkanhoney Preservation?

“This week? Uh … no. You’re just speculating now. They’re just two foreign leaders having a confidential conversation. But the much bigger issue here is that the Joebiden said this weekend he didn’t have a business conversation with his son while — incredibly — his son said they had.”

“The story goes,” said the Jaketapper, “that all the Joebiden said was, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Aha! So what was he doing?”

“Not much. The Ukraine Plain dinos looked into the situation and found nothing. Moving right along, you said it’s speculation but two prominent Mediacircustops report that a Whistleblower dino was trying to bring his urgent, credible complaint to the Kongrus Kave … and just as a general premise, is it okay for any dino leader to hold hundreds of millions of moolah-moolah leaves over the head of a foreign leader to dig up dirt on a political rival. Is that acceptable?

“Speculation is such a wonderful word, isn’t it? I plan to use it often. Because that’s what you’re doing, Jake. I’m sorry. You’re sadly mistaken. The T-Rump just isn’t the type of dino to use pressure.”

“The T-Rump brought up the Joebiden issue eight times.”

“Speculation. Ahem. Pure speculation.”

“It’s not speculation. We’re talking prominent Mediacircustops reporting this. The Washingtonpostian and the Wallstreetjournalus.”

“So, everything they say we should assume is always factual?”

“Why not? They only report the facts. The T-Rump. The Zelensky. The Ukraine Plain. 250 million moolah-moolah leaves. Joebiden dirt. Where did we lose you?” 

The Stevenmnuchin blinked the blink of dumbfoundedness. Naturally. The Jaketapper continued.

“How many times did the T-Rump raise the Joebiden issue?”

“I find it interesting that with everything else going on in the dino world, including the Lewandowski graciously appearing at the hearing … and the dancing Seanspicer — don’t forget the dancing Seanspicer — why is there is so much interest in this story?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Because if it’s true, it’s an abuse of power and an impeachable offense?”

“Excuse me, I really need to deflect here. Dinos were worried, I was worried about the Joebiden’s son in the Ukraine Plain and what he was up to. Frankly, I couldn’t sleep at night.”

“Deflection time out.” The Jaketapper held up a short arm. “Back to the real news, the Whistleblower wants to bring his complaint to the Kongrus Kave and the Oval Dwelling is preventing that. If there really is nothing there, why not let the dinos that are allowed to see the complaint, see it?”

“I think that would be a terrible precedent.”

“Excuse me? Stopping the T-Rump from putting his own selfish desires before the dino nation’s interests? The T-Rump took an oath.”

“Conversations between political dinos are meant to be confidential.”

“Unless there’s a crime.”

“If every time someone for political reasons raised a question …”

“This issue was not about policy. It was fraud, bribery, extortion. Pick one.”

The wheels in the Stevenmnuchin’s walnut turned slowly. Deny. Deflection. Distraction. Delay. The 4D T-Rump Defense in action. He finally found his voice.

“Can we talk about the maximum pressure campaign?”

“We are.”

“I mean the Iranasaurae.”

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m going to stay here all night until you cave and answer my question. The Milkanhoney Preservation dinos want an answer. Is it the position of the T-Rump to pressure foreign dino leaders to investigate their political rivals because that is what alarms a lot of dinos. And if you say speculation one more time I will bite you.”

The Stevenmnuchin was surprisingly firm.

“The T-Rump said I could say speculation as often as I needed to. This was a congratulatory call. You know how long it took us to find something for the Zelensky to congratulate the T-Rump on? By the way, this isn’t the first time the T-Rump’s been attacked and things have turned out to be incorrect.”

“Incorrect? You mean dozens of attacks the T-Rump is fighting in the dino courts or stonewalling so they don’t see the light of day?” 

The Stevenmnuchin gulped. Quick. Distract.

“The T-Rump will be meeting next week with the Zelensky.”

“Will you be there?”

“If the T-Rump thinks I saved his butt with you today, then yes, I expect to be at that meeting.”

“If the T-Rump brings up his desire, which he will, to have the Zelensky investigate the Joebiden, perhaps for that other 140 million moolah-moolah leaves flying around … will you jump up and down, wave your arms and tell him he is breaking his oath of office and committing a high crime for which he can be impeached? Will you?”

“My conversations with the T-Rump are confidential.”

“He’s not talking to you. News flash. He doesn’t listen to you. He doesn’t listen to anybody. He’s talking to the Zelensky.”

The Stevenmnuchin withdrew into the warm exile of his faux-dino cocoon, a coping mechanism his dino doc had recommended he succumb to when fighting this anxiety that enveloped him like flop sweat whenever he was forced to talk about the T-Rump for more than seven-and-a-half minutes. 

The Jaketapper saw this as an opportunity to move in with a final, hard-hitting question. Hammer time.

“If this was the Obamarus instead of the T-Rump, and he approached a foreign dino leader to get dirt on the T-Rump Jr. or the Erictyrumposaurus, would you not find that inappropriate?”

“Again with the speculation. What I do find inappropriate is the Joebiden’s son–”

“You’re not listening. Take the moolah-moolah out of your ears. So it’s okay for the T-Rump’s children to do their thing all over dino world but not okay for the Joebiden’s son.”

“Again, I don’t really want to go into more detail. You know how the T-Rump hates details.”

“Steven, you do realize you have just set a precedent that the leader of the dino nation is violating.

“Again, I think that there’s a significant difference in, in what you’re saying. Okay. Or what I was saying … or what one of us was saying, between the Joebiden and his son’s relationship with a Ukraine Plain oligarch.”

“Oh, goody,” said the Jaketapper, wringing his hands in glee. “Oligarchs! Tied to the T-Rump. Shall we? The Olegderipaska, the Vekselberg, the Prigozhin, the Rybolovlev, the Arasagalarov …”

The Stevenmnuchin’s eyes glazed over as the Jaketapper droned on, running down the lengthy list of prominent Russodinos who’d all played key roles in the T-Rump’s turbulent rise to power. The Stevenmnuchin making the T-Rump’s meeting with the Zelensky was suddenly in doubt.

But then again, when was the last sure thing of the Trumpassic Period? 

“Why the glum face?”

The Tyrumposaurus looked across the Oval Dwelling at the Williambarr squatting in the entrance. The top legal dino in the land had on an especially sour puss.

“It’s not good news.”

“What, did the Brettkavanaugh assault another dino?”

“No.”

“Did the Mediacircustops accuse me of assaulting another dino?

“No.”

“Well, it’s a great day then, isn’t it?”

“Not quite. Come with me.”

A few minutes later the attorney dino general and the T-Rump stood on the First Amended Path, staring down at fresh footprints laid down by the Sethabramson, a Rhodescholarus-like dino from the Newhamp Shires. The T-Rump turned his head cockeyed.

“What’s it … what is it …”

“What’s it about? Oh, right. You can’t read. The footprints here are titled, Proof of Conspiracy.”

“Hah! Conspiracies. Fake news.”

“Uh, not really. I’ve just read a few footprints …”

“And?”

“It’s bad. Real bad.”

“How bad?”

“So bad the Foxsquawkbox won’t even touch it. The Putinodon says turn away. No peeking allowed.”

“Then why in god’s green swamp are we here?”

“Because, as your personal legal dino, I mean the dino nation’s number one legal dino, I need to know what we’re up against.”

“And?”

The Williambarr looked at the initial footprints. 

“Oh, my. … My word.” His eyes moved down the footprints. “Oh. My. God.” 

“What? What? WHAT?!”

The top legal dino suddenly found himself wondering if his own job was in jeopardy. How was he going to defend the T-Rump with these footprints after footprint — a veritable highway to hell that drove home the point in startling, shocking details that the T-Rump was the most corrupt leader since … the Williambarr could only stammer in awe.

“This, this is worse than the Ferdinandmarcosaurus.”

“Who?”

“Sorry, I forgot. You don’t know history.”

“I don’t need to. History begins with me. I’ve lied at every turn. My dinos have destroyed evidence. The Muellersavus admitted as much in his report and look, I’m still here. Keep lying. Keep delaying. We’ll be fine.”

“I wish I could say that but …”

The Williambarr looked around to make sure they were alone. He then leaned in close to whisper in the T-Rump’s bright orange ear.

“He knows about the Grand Dino Basement Bargain.”

The T-Rump pulled back as if bitten.

“No. How can he know that? I don’t even know about all that. By design of course. Because I have this, you know … tendency to spill the beans.”

The Sethabramson footprints told how the bargain’s beginnings were born in the wee minds of the Georgenader, the Erikprince and the Elliottbroidy. Their criminal conniving culminated in a meeting on the banks of the Red Sea bringing together the Saudisaurae, the Emiratisaurae, the Israelisaurae, the Egyptiansaurae and the Russodinos. After a large meal of Caviaraptors, they all agreed to support the T-Rump in the November Battle so he’d become the leader of the Milkanhoney Preservation. In return, the T-Rump would call off the deadly Sanctionsaurus on the Russodinos. The Milkanhoney Preservation would then take the Nuclearsaurae away from the Iranasaurae and give it to the Saudisaurae and Emiratisaurae, thereby pointing to the Iranasaurae as the big, bad dino bully of the block.

“You’ve had the Manaforta living in your T-Rump Dump for 13 years?”

“Time does fly. He kind of grows on you, y’know?”

“Not that you’d want him to. It says here the Olegderipaska gave him 10 million moolah-moolah leaves and the Manaforta turned around and threw about 4 million to you to move into your Dump.”

“And what’s wrong with having Russodino agents for neighbors? The more the merrier.”

The Williambarr turned back to the footprints.

“You do remember our cold-blooded feelings toward the Russodinos, don’t you? It says here all that changed in the Grandoldparty Shindig in the Cleaved Land three years ago thanks to a plan put forth by the Jaydeegordon, the Sessionsopposum, the Sergeykislyak, the Carterpage, the Kushneratops and the Dimitrisimes.”

“Woah,” said the T-Rump. “You just said the dino who should not be named.”

“But he knows, T-Rump. He knows. You’ve never mentioned the Dimitrisimes but he was in the Muellersavus report 134 times.”

“Hmph. Just because the Muellersavus says it 134 times doesn’t make it true.”

How many times would make it so, wondered the Williambarr. Having a pathological liar for a boss was a tough gig. But the fringe benefits, oh the fringe benefits. He had the power to look into anything purely as a stalling tactic while not actually accomplishing anything. It was a great way to while away the day.

“Holy Toledosaurus!”

“What?!”

“He has all of your joint defense agreements. The Manaforta, the Michaelcohen, the Jeromecorsi …”

“Corsi? I don’t even know him.”

The Williambarr shook his head.

“Your legal dinos spoke with his legal dinos for months. How can you possibly say that?”

The legal dino knew better than to wait for an answer. He plunged back into the Sethabramson’s damning footprints.

“The year you sold your Everglades luxury cave to the Rybolovlev, the Larisamarkus, the Bedzhamov and the Ilyabykov …”

“Nice Russodinos. All of them.”

“They were washing moolah-moolah leaves on the wrong banks for several Russodinos, including the oily-skinned Rosneftaurus. The Larisamarkus and the Bedzhamov were caught and thrown in the Solitary Sinkhole.”

“Did I say that they were both great dinos?”

“Apparently the Ilyabykov was also working for you and your luxury cave partners, the Felixsater and the Arasagalarov.”

“Didn’t I already tell you that I have no dealings with Russodinos?”

“Or is it that you never met a Russodino you didn’t like?”

“That to.”

“Uh-oh. There’s more here on your dino who should not be named. I don’t believe this.”

“I’m telling you,” said the T-Rump. “It’s fake news.”

“Unfortunately no. All these facts have been verified by Mediacircustops we need to worry about. The respected ones. It says that the Dmitrisimes was with a Russodino think tank and he became your Russodino advisor a few days after the Samclovis brought in the Papadopoulos. A few days later the Dmitrisimes and the Kushneratops convinced you to create a national dino security advisory committee.”

“They told me it would make me look good. Smart too. I mean genius. Definitely genius.”

“So you proudly announced the Papadopoulos and the Carterpage being on this committee but you didn’t want the Milkanhoney Preservation to know that the real brains behind it were the Dmitrisimes, the Flynnhasbeen and the Erikprince. Their names were never publicly mentioned.”

“Modest dinos,” said the T-Rump. “Nice, modest dinos.”

The Williambarr continued.

“They worked in the shadows. Swampy dinos in the know called the Dmitrisimes ‘completely pro-Russodino’ or probably a Russodino spy.”

The attorney dino general looked up at the T-Rump.

“You and the Kushneratops knew?”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t tell me you still care about the law. I bought you.”

The Williambarr nodded his head. The T-Rump had indeed. Whatever remaining moral fibre in the legal dino’s spine keeled over and died. The T-Rump had that effect on dinos. Still, the Williambarr could not take his eyes off the footprints of Sethabramson. They were hypnotizing in their dizzying depths of corruption and guilt.

“The Marcmukasey? Your family’s legal dino is in here?”

“So?”

“He was also the legal dino to the Rudygiuliani and the dirt-digging Psygroup dinos using intel to help win the November Battle for you.”

“Yes, it was a true team effort. I told you I had the best dinos. All working hard, doing whatever it took, breaking laws for me to win. What can I say?”

The T-Rump held out his short hands and grinned.

“Everybody loves me.”

“A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-G-H!”

The Mickmulvaney raced out of the Oval Dwelling, short arms waving wildly in the air. He made a bee-line, heading for the Hills of Hopelessness.

“What’s eating him?” the Tyrumpsaurus asked the Stephaniegrisham.

“Well, you did have him tell the Wilburross to threaten the Bamahama weather dinos that they’d be fired if they didn’t lie about the hurricane to toe your line. Then he had to field more questions, or abuse as he calls it, from the Mediacircustops regarding the Militarisaurus spending 600 nights at your Turnberry T-Rump Dump. … Um, then you were going to invite the Talibanisaurae to the Camp Davidian the very day before the Massacre Memorial. And, oh yes, news just came out that you outed our highest dino spy inside the Putinodon’s inner sanctum two years ago when you had the Russodinos inside the Oval Dwelling.”

“Is that all?”

“It, uh … did all happen in a span of 48 hours.”

“Hmph. No dino should be that close to the Putinodon. Unless it’s me of course.”

“Is that my cue to send off a bromance message from you to the Putinodon through one of our dozens of clandestine Russodino links.”

“Would you?”

She nodded with a sweet smile.

“Tonight is also the night that the ten dinos vying for the Donkeykongrus leader are meeting in the Sam Houston Hills.”

“Right. Book me in at Baltimore Bedrock.”

“But, T-Rump. You just recently called it a rodent-infested mess. Hell too. You called it hell. Are you sure you want to go back so soon?”

“Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie.”

She hung her head in shame. She hated this job already. He was always picking on her. As if she was fifth in line for her job.

“Divide and conquer. Just like the Putinodon said. Unrest is best.”

He stopped, gnawed on a Cheezbuggabugga and puzzled.

“What is it, T-Rump?”

“The Mickmulvaney running off screaming like that. Some dinos may notice. The four crises he’s dealing with.”

“Poor Mick,” she said.

“Him? What about me? He’s stealing the attention of the Mediacircustops. We can’t have that.”

“No, we can’t. The Mickmulvaney is a vane, attention-grabbing, self-serving chief of staff.”

She blinked hopefully at the T-Rump.

“That’s better. I need to do something. Now. Is the Johnbolton still squatting in the corner muttering to himself?”

“Last time I checked.”

They both turned to look toward the far corner of the Oval Dwelling where the national security dino was indeed fervently gnawing on his knuckles.

“Bolton!”

“Huh?”

“You’re fired!”

“What? Um, could I at least say I resigned first … or make it look like we had one conversation in the past six months?”

“No. I’ll send out a Trollertweety in the morning that explains everything. If you leave now, I’ll spare you maximum embarrassment.”

The Johnbolton slowly trudged out of the cave.

“And no footprint in the sand deals!” the T-Rump hollered after him. “I’ll deny everything! You don’t want a nickname from me!”

The sour, denigrating words hung in the air.

“Are we filling the post?” asked the Stephaniegrisham, aware that on the surface, this was not an entirely stupid question.

“Do we have to?”

“I – I … think we should.”

“Okay. Which Foxsquawkbox is next in line?”

“I think our remaining dinos there are deaf, dumb or mute.”

“Never heard of them. You know that won’t do.”

“I could bring you half a dozen Grandoldparty dinos but I know you wouldn’t like them because …”

“Don’t tell me. The Mediacircustops doesn’t know’em so I won’t know’em. You know I hate that. Give me brash, bold and name-calling every time.”

He looked for her to add something to the conversation.

“And, um … pompous?”

“That’s it! Get him in here!”

“Who?”

“Who?! You just told me, dammit! Get a grip, girl. You know how many of the greatest dinos I know are waiting to replace you?”

She stifled back a tear and edged toward the entrance. Halfway there she finally made the connection. Ten minutes later the Mikepompeo was in the Oval Dwelling with them.

“Mike,” said the T-Rump. “I fired the Johnbolton.”

“Hah!”

The dino secretary of state punched the air in glee.

“Easy, let’s not have the Mediacircustops think we’re celebrating. Then we’d have to answer as to why we ever got him in the first place.”

The Mikepompeo tempered his emotions somewhat, still unable to hide his goofy grin.

“Mike, I want you to take on the national security dino job. That’s two jobs for you. Same pay. One less dinos in the mix to muddy my mind. Because I’m calling the shots here. I know more than all the Intel dinos. Every last one. So, just to confirm, you’ll be ‘acting.’ You know I need to have that abuse of power. I mean, ahem … flexibility.”