Humor Political Satire

T-Rump Never Knows …

“Hi, guys. How is everybody?”

“Who are you?” asked the Moscowmitch.

“What? Um, you know. The, uh … Johnbolton. Remember me?”

The dinos in the Sin Hut Cave rolled their eyes as one. The embarrassing welcome mat rolled up in Bolton’s face with a snap as the Moscowmitch, the Jimjordan and the Louiegohmert all stared in disbelief at the former dino security advisor. The Moscowmitch was in a positively biting mood.

“What the hell are you doing here?”  

“Well, as you remember, I didn’t spill the beans during the T-Rump’s impeachment. As a result, the Donkeykongrus dinos, they all hate me with a passion. Just because I wrote my memoirs about that, uh … last job I had. So there’s that.”

“You completely trashed the T-Rump!” snorted the Jimjordan. “How could you say all those horrible, terrible, nasty things about our divine leader?”

“We should just gobble you up and swallow you whole,” said the Louiegohmert. “And swallow your bones too, so there won’t be any left to bury.”

“Ha-ha. You’re joking, right?”

The sour puss on Gohmert’s mug said anything but.

“Guess you’re not. Aw, c’mon, guys, I was a good dino. I could’ve destroyed the Grandoldparty but I kept my mouth shut.”

“Hardly. You just put the world on pause so you could make us all look bad later, as you lined your nest with a big heaping pile of crisp, green moolah-moolah leaves,” said the Moscosmitch. “We know how you’re sleeping at night.”

“But you all sleep the same way. The Grandoldparty way. Grifting and lying and deceiving and stonewalling and denying and deflecting and projecting …”

“You’re preachin’ to the choir, Johnny,” growled the Jimjordan.

“So just shut the hell up,” finished the Louiegohmert. “You’re makin’ me feel guilty all of a sudden. Don’t know why. Ain’t no need to talk to you. We don’t need your damn memoirs part two.”

A light went on in the Johnbolton’s walnut dome.

“Well, if that’s the way it’s gotta be, I guess that’s the way it’s gotta be.”

“What, I say what are you talking about?” said a worried Moscowmitch. “Which scandal are you talking about?”

“Jeez, Mitch,” interrupted the Jimjordan. “I thought we were supposed to call them issues. Or fake news.”

The Moscowmitch stared him down and turned back to the Johnbolton.

“Which scandal, dammit.”

“Oh, well, we don’t need to go too far back in time. I mean, we are talking about the empty chair in the Oval Dwelling. If you’re thinking the latest conga line with the Putinodon and the Russodinos, you wouldn’t be far off. Crazy stuff. Can you believe it? The Putinodon giving the Taliban dinos moolah-moolah leaves to – to …. the thought of it just makes me want to lose my lunch. But alright then, if you dinos will be my friends, I’ll tell you. First, I just need to get off a couple of good roars to scare up the wildlife. To set the mood.”

So the Johnbolton roared twice, sufficiently scaring up said wildlife and effectively setting the mood. 


The T-Rump had the facts, as did his team 

Why are they lying?

About those dying?

A Putin plot, the bounties were deployed

It is defining

Morally blinding

So months ago, the meeting was within

We are seeing

We are seething


Moscow 2-9-1-5-5 hit-and-run

We all are knowing

Whose line he’s toeing

His ignorance, moreso his Russian dread

It is deceiving

It is demeaning

But missing is the courage of his team

They are not giving

So unforgiving

The ear of Putin he has yet to bend

In the headlining

T-Rump’s still whining

His polls declining

He’s still maligning

He’s still dividing

The silver lining?

Time for resigning


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!

Humor Political Satire

The T-Rump Dig Podcast … Days 1250 & 1254

The Kingston Trio and the Rolling Stones share their instrumental backdrop in this week’s two-fer of T-Rump Traxx: Day 1250 — “Where Have All the Trumpers Gone?” … The Okla-Tulsa clean-up raises a question or two … and Day 1254 — “(I Can’t Get No) Legal Action … The Aaronzelinsky braves a swampy hearing to air his grievances in the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir. … Enjoy!

Humor Political Satire Satire The T-Rump Dig

T-Rump’s Debate …


The Tyrumposaurus watched from afar at the 10-dino debate the Donkeykongrus were holding in the swampy, knee-deep waters of the Nevereverglades.

“Hope! I mean, Huckabee! I mean … who the hell is it now? Oh, right. Stephanie!”

A split second later the Stephaniegrisham, the new Oval Dwelling press secretary-communications director-Tymelania-be-bester poked her snout over his shoulder.

“Can I help you, T-Rump?”

“This dumb Donkeykongrus debate just started … and already I’m feeling snubbed.”

“I see,” she said slowly, recalling how she dealt with her two dino children when they were tots. “Perhaps you’d like to be in a debate too?”

“Could I? I am a stable genius after all. I’d have to stand in the middle though.”

“Of course.”

“Well, don’t just stand there. If you were any slower than Huckabee, it’d be yesterday. Make it so. Now! Before I have another sexual assault charge leveled against me by some dino who isn’t even my type.”

Within the hour the Stephaniegrisham did just that. She assembled the T-Rump and 10 other dinos at nearby Gainesville Mudcrutch, a vacant lot flattened long before by the musical thunder of two dinos, the Tompetty and the Heartbreakerz rocking and rolling against each other, long into the night, belting out hard and soft rock until there was none left. 

A large throng of neighboring Uber-Deploruh Bulls had gathered, snarling and snorting anxiously, anticipating an entertaining evening of trash-talk takedowns.

“Okay, Stephanie,” said the T-Rump squatting smugly center stage. “The introductions, if you will.” 

“Yes, tonight we have 11 Grandoldparty candidates.”

The T-Rump raised a short arm to the sky.

“One more than the Donkeykongrus because we’re better.”

“Left to right,” the Stephaniegrisham continued, “is the Manaforta, the Saveyourenergyrex, the Kushneratops, the Duncanhunter, and ahem, because this was done on such short notice — me. On the right side of His High and Mighty and For Whom We All Grovel, the Tyrumposaurus, is the Kellyanneconvixway, the Jaysekulow, the Erictrump, the Mitchgetbacktowork and the Betsydevos.”

“Helluva job, Stephanie,” said the T-Rump. “Helluva job. All you Uber-Deploruh Bulls out there. Give her a roaring snort!”

On cue the mucus flew.

“Okay, okay,” the leader of the Dino Nation interjected the flying phlegm. “Let’s not get crazy. Remember, no licking each other. I need you next year! … Now then, Stephanie, did you get some pretty dino to, uh … you know, look after things — and mostly ask questions of me?”

Her heart sank. Damn! Her first day on the job. How could she?

“You mean a moderator?” she said weakly.

“You didn’t get one? Why the hell not?”

Off-stage the Tymelania froze the T-Rump with her Stare of a Thousand Ice Ages.

“I mean, you forgot, right? No problem. How tough can it be to find a moderator?”

The Seanhannity jumped out onto the stage.

“Pick me! Pick me!”

“I said pretty,” the T-Rump deadpanned. He spotted a female dino with her back turned to him, a few feet from the Seanhannity. “Hey, you there, pretty girl. Why don’t you be our moderator?”

The dino turned to the T-Rump. His eyes went wide.


The Meganrapinoe,” she replied.

“What are you doing here?”

“This isn’t the Oval Dwelling is it?”

“Fine. Go ahead and moderate. See if I care. If you do a great job, and I’m only saying a great, great job … I may consider inviting your team of Soccersaurae to the Oval Dwelling.”

“I’ll do my best,” she grinned impishly as she turned to the debate dinos. “Okay, let’s get this show going. A quick-hitter. Which of you dinos are currently incarcerated, being sued, received a Subpoenasaurus or is expecting a visit from one soon? Raise your hands now. Be honest.”

Five short arms slowly went up. The Manaforta, the Kushneratops, the Duncanhunter, the Kellyanneconvixway and the Betsydevos.

Not me, said the T-Rump. You can’t touch me. No collusion! No obstruction!

A random roaring snort escaped a dino in the front row. His mucus projectile splattered the Erictrump in the face.

“Hey! He spit on me!”

The Erictrump was pointing toward the Jaysekulow.

“I did not, you spoiled brat. I saw you. You didn’t even put your hand up. I know about …” He stopped and slowly turned toward the dino audience who had stopped in mid-saliva drip. “Oops.”

The Meganrapinoe smirked. I don’t even have to say a word for this debate to implode.

“Questions, Megan,” said the T-Rump, rolling his hands one over the other, urging her to move the debate along.

“Uh, you mean like the questions from the Muellersavus that you refused to answer?”

“Not those questions. You know what I mean. The easy-peasy questions like the Seanhannity tosses me every night for the Foxsquawkbox dinos.”

He cast an eye off-stage at the Seanhannity, whose long, stepped-upon tail began eagerly thumping the ground.

The T-Rump cocked his head.

“She’s still prettier than you, Sean.”

The moderator regained control.

“This question is for the Saveyourenergyrex. Since I don’t see this Grandoldparty group going forward at all, if you had your old job back, how would you have worked differently with the Kushneratops?”

The former Secretary of State Dino glared at the prim and proper senior dino adviser beside him.

“I’d have kicked him with my other foot. To the moon, Kushy! To the moon!”

The Meganrapinoe nodded to the Stephaniegrisham.

“Stephanie, you’re new around here. Given that the dino beside you, the Duncanhunter has been accused of using campaign moolah-moolah leaves to bungle in the jungle and otherwise entertain no less than 5 lady dinos and today had yet another dino accuse him of groping, are you the least bit worried as you squat there beside him?”

The Stephaniegrisham cast an anxious glance at the Duncanhunter. He leered back at her.

“Yes, I do bite. And I have campaign moolah moolah. What more could you want?”

“My follow-up question, Stephanie … notwithstanding he may follow you home … do you have your fellow Grandoldparty member — this dino’s back?”

The Stephaniegrisham suddenly found herself pining for the safe sanctuary of the Tymelania’s Melancholy Mud Pit.

“Stonewall, Stephanie!” the T-Rump hollered. “Stonewall!”

The Meganrapinoe rolled her eyes.

“You can’t stonewall in a debate, dummy.”

Every dino froze. You could hear a pebble roll over in the light breeze.

Uh-oh, thought the Majority Leader. The T-Rump had been exposed. The Mitchgetbacktowork had to get back to work. Fast. 

The Kentucky Gobbler stole a look to either side. To his right, the Erictrump; to his left, the Betsydevos. This called for a calculated risk.

“Hey! Look, everyone! I’m surrounded by a pair of morons!”

The Erictrump sighed, lowering his gaze. Not so the Betsydevos. Her face hardened and she threw out her chest defiantly.

“I am not a moron. I am the Secretary of the Edge of Vacation.”

The Meganrapinoe tabbed the Kellyanneconvixway for her final question.

“Kellyanne, I’m sure the dinos in the audience are well aware of your point-zero-zero-zero-one percent chance of appearing before the committee to answer for your alleged Hatch Act violation. If you actually do appear, can you share with us any alternative facts you plan on providing?”

“I resemble that remark. But I’m still surprised at you for bringing that up, Stephanie. I would just like to point out that when it comes to alternative facts there’s the thesaurus and then there’s me. I don’t believe I need to tell you who is better.”

“Thesaurus?” asked the T-Rump. “What Thesaurus? Do I know her?”

Satire The T-Rump Dig

Shaming of the Two …


In a concealed cave, a clandestine meeting between the Seanhannity and the Manaforta.


My dear Manaforta, can we talk? How you? How you do do?


Not free, Hannity, as you. Feel free any time, now and ever, to call me. Forever.


Please know, thou art maven taking haven in my prayers.


Thank you. I need them. I beg thee. Pile pity to my pits. I feel so violated. It’s the …


Yes! Rhymes of crimes hated. And NOT being investigated?

Clear felonies! Conflicted interests! Who seeks? How doth POTUS host thy leaks?

The future of our great dino nation is thy conversation to straighten.

Grace and peace is yet gray piece of this moment difficult.

Sadly, tis when friends abandon. As in apostles pulled?

If you wish to talk, to vent, to strategize, I am here. But we wise.

For while this is so very hard, stand tall and strong to fight the fight.

Whilst I remain at your knee, if you can watch tonight.


I appreciate what you try to do or try to be,

All dinos but I, in your every conspiracy theory.

The Muellersavus vies, he tries to intimidate me.

The morning raid still blinds. Cannot your eyes see?

No need to heed. I won’t let him succeed!

Leaving me the loneliest of lonely, fighting this fight.

Alone! So alone! But for you and a few others.

Our side must engage if we’re to beat these mothers!


Call me once, twice, thrice. And thrice again twice more.

Let’s eat, talk and anything I can do to help.

Far be I from some Mediacircustops whelp!

Your sorrow deep keeps me, weeps me to sleep. 


T-Y. Two letters to thank you.

Your call of yesterday fairly tackled my torment.


Get me started, for I readily foment.

The Crookadillary doth make me pace!

Such irrational national disgrace!

Always here, my Manaforta. Always here.


I know. Thy south mouth protects my back.


Hail me not some fair weather dino.


I know. WE know.

The Mediacircustops, their ruthless lies and untruths

Itching to split me from family T-Rump — before my very own.

Yon game of dirt begets dirty game.


Yup. My apt response as I see all, know all. Your call.


The Dowderpuff huffed and puffed away,

Berating raid of Muellersavus today.

New legal dinos I have. Junkyard Doggydogs they be.

Undoing this injustice. Tis painful, costly fight for me.

Tis daunting. This Mediacircustops false coverage. So negative!

Down to my last brownstone. I’ve nothing to give!

Forget thy pity. Forgive my pout.

But I won’t give up. I won’t sell out.


And I, your fly in ointment, pointing to the flaw:


I shall preach continued fact in every dino’s face

One justice system plus two tiers equals a disgrace!



The next night. Same dinos. Same cave. Second clandestine meeting.


So did thou see last night? Yes, I trolled all.

I said the Manaforta made a mistake. The gall!

He wasn’t the Crookadillary, nor the Ericholder,

Nor the Lorettalynch, her bad acts bolder.

Release the Manaforta, he did NOT destroy it all.


To be so clever. Such endeavor.

The Jeaninepirro’s swing was the Geraldo’s miss.

I long the day they climb atop this.


The Jeaninepirro, smart and in the know,

Schooled me to have schools of legal dinos

For each morn dawns my waking dread

More bull for breakfast and a bulls-eye for my head

My dear Manaforta, like you I too

Put dino nation before my creation,

This amazing Milkanhoney Preservation,

S-o-o-o-o-o off course, such devastation!

If the Donkeykongrus win, so be it, my thoughts.

I’m fighting like you, for our dinos and their tots.


The dino noblesse think T-Rump a mess

His death their success to one day confess

For to fill their bill, I’m mere roadkill

Tis Jared and family that whets their will

Never enough! Farewell Moscovian Bluffs!  


Too much info doth forsake my clap trap!

That I would repeat, my face yours to slap.

Thus I have my main mantra, my fickle fave five.

These I focus upon to keep ratings alive:

Deep state, Donkeykongrus, Mediacircustops too

Our weak, our pathetic, never-T-Rumpers. Taboo!

Then Flynnhasbeen. A horrible, ILLEGAL arrest.

General. Thanks for giving your best?


He too, destroyed as background to their voices.

“Incompetence!” they shout at T-Rump’s choices.


Alas and alack, a Potus fan is roadkill


Might Potus find that as only ill will?


I tell him a lot. A real lotta lot lot there.

Our relationship, brutal, honest, all out on the air

Should victory find the left, hence me on the shelf

Where with Dixie’s two cups, I’ll talk to myself.


Your attitude keeps you free. Unlike I. Woe is me.

Humor Political Satire

The T-Rump Dig Podcast … Days 879 & 883

In this week’s two-fer podcast, on Day 879–Cybersaurus? What Cybersaurus? … the T-Rump faces the wrath of his handler, the Putinodon. Then, on Day 883–My Wedding and Maria … a high-ranking dino under secretary has her wedding crashed by a Russodino!

Satire The T-Rump Dig

Cybersaurus? What Cybersaurus?

A nervous humility settled over the Tyrumposaurus, his smug pomposity leaving him for its rightful owner, the resolute puppet master squatting nearby.

“You have a Cybersaurus sniffing in my backyard,” said the Putinodon. “Deep in my backyard.”

The Russodino leader swished his tail across the ground in a slow, steady motion … kindling the tension … stoking the suspense … firing the fear. The short Putinodon squatted on a rock three higher than the T-Rump, glaring down from a position of authority. For his latest burn.

“I didn’t know about it. Honest,” pleaded the T-Rump.

“You gave your Cybersaurus command dinos the go ahead on this a year ago. Are you telling me you forgot about it?”

The T-Rump gulped. How could he tell the Putinodon that he forgot a lot of things? Like … everything.

“The Langleyops, they don’t tell me anything. I don’t think they respect me. I have no idea why.”

“Enough! It’s done. Your Langleyops minions leaked it to the Mediacircustops. You left me no choice.”

“To do what?” asked the T-Rump.

“Argie-Bargie, Para-Uruguay. 50 million dinos. Powerless.”

“That was you?”

Normally, the Putinodon’s knowing smirk said it all. But his Kayjeebeeops dino background told him the T-Rump would always need things spelled out.

“That was I. The dino you answer to. I suggest you go back to the Oval Dwelling and put your rhetoric on high flame against the Mediacircustops or the next story they tell will be …”

“Uh, the Moscovian Bluffs luxury cave? The multi-dino bungle in the jungle? Not my special pee tree?”

“There are so many to choose from,” the Putinodon said with a wry smile. “The Christophersteele barely scraped the surface …”

Within hours the T-Rump’s Trollertweety had practically morphed into a fire-breathing dragon …

“Squawk!  Mediacircustops! Virtual act of treason! Desperate! Squawk! Also, Not True! Anything goes! Squawk! Not even the slightest thought of consequence! Unlike the T-Rump. Squawk! True cowards! Enemy of the dinos! Squawk!”

The T-Rump arrived back at the Oval Dwelling, but not before the Jimacosta caught up with him.

“T-Rump! Did you read the Dinos Open Jawed legal opinion refusing to hand the Mytaxes Returnus skins you’ve shed for the last six years over to the Richardneal?”

“Of course I have.”

The Jimacosta’s jaw hit the ground.

All 33 footprints in the sand?”

“What? If I’m going to lie about reading the Muellersavus’ Report’s 448 footprints, then of course I’m going to lie about 33. You’re not too bright, Jim.”

“T-Rump, the legal opinion said the committee lacks a legitimate, legislative purpose but the Richardneal said they’re conducting oversight to keep future dino leaders from hiding their skins.”

“This would set a dangerous precedent. Very dangerous.”

“What precedent? You’re the precedent for NOT providing your Mytaxes Returnus. Every other dino leader has. You claim the Richardneal is acting pre-textual.”

“Pre-textual? Don’t give me pre-textual. I already told you I read the damn thing. The request is unauthorized, okay?”

“Unauthorized? It’s the law! As in shall furnish.”

“Don’t be a wise guy, Jim. I’m just obeying the Dinos Open Jawed and my Attorney General. What was that? Did somebody just cough? I hate it when I’m interrupted by a cough. Mickmulvaney! It was you, wasn’t it? Get out of here! And take the Jimacosta with you.”

A moment later, the T-Rump squatted in the Oval Dwelling. Alone. This wouldn’t do. He had to be seen.

“Mick! Get back in here!”

The Mickmulvaney arrived out of breath.

“Yes, T-Rump?”

“Go get the Huckabeecyclops for me.”

“She left.”

“Whaddaya mean left?! She owes me two weeks!”

“Uh, T-rump. She said that since she’s done nothing for three months, why wait another two weeks?”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you track her down and tell her she’s paying me back two weeks moolah-moolah or she can kiss that little rock in Arkansas she’s gonna hide behind good-bye.”

“Very well, T-Rump. Oh, I’ve taken the liberty to line up the best dinos we have for her vacant position, you know, doing her best to keep the Milkanhoney Preservation informed.

“She’s going to be so difficult to replace. Who do we have?”

“The Stevecourtes and the Hogangidley.”


“Uh, that’s it.”

“No women?”

“There were three who showed an interest … but they backed out, afraid you’d show an interest in them.”

A frown from the T-Rump.

“Fine. Send’em in.”

The Stevecourtes stomped in, the expression on his face saying he was happy and looking for a fight at the same time. The Hogangidley ambled in behind him, not quite as confident. More of a bewildered whimp of a dino, one that a stiff breeze might deposit elsewhere.

The T-Rump sized up his two candidates.

“Steve, Hogan, I’m getting nailed out there. Who wants the job? Who’s going to protect me, spread the lies? Can you throw yourself off a cliff for me and kick the Mitchgetbacktowork in the teeth if need be? Well?”

“Excuse me, T-Rump,” said Hogan. “I don’t think I can rightly kick Mitch in the teeth if I just threw myself off a cliff.”

Idiot, thought the T-Rump. That’s what I’m down to.

“Steve, you’re first.”

“T-Rump, thanks for this golden opportunity.  Look, you know I know migration. I’m what they call specialized. So let me tell you this. I just came up with it a minute ago, so yes, I can think and speak at the same time. I’m telling you, this Great Tex-Mex Divide crisis, it’s a cyber-migration conspiracy. That’s right. And we can blame it on the Africanamerica dino. I mean, what are they even doing there? It makes no sense at all … but very good sense for my latest conspiracy theory.”

The Stevecourtes smug smile was met with the T-Rump’s scrunched face of confused disbelief. The dino leader nodded for the Hogangidley to hop in.

“Ah, thank you, T-Rump. I want you to try this one on fer size. Yuh see, we’re used to seein’ the men messin’ around with the moolah-moolah what with the corruption an’ all. But now yuh see the wife of the Netan-yee-haw over in them Middle Eastlands and the Duncanhunter’s wife spendin’ other dino’s moolah-moolah like it’s goin’ outta style … and the Mitchgetbacktowork’s wife, the Elainechao helpin’ him out with a million here and there … an’ the Stevenmnuchin’s wife puckerin’ up now fer a quick fix on her trashy-trash image …”

“Exactly what are you trying to say, Hogan?”

“Oh, I was just ramblin’ on. … No, hold on. What I’m sayin’, boss, is blame the wife! Why not? You’re married, ain’t yuh?”

The smallest walnut turned slowly in the T-Rump’s brain.

“If I may,” said the Stevecourtes. “The Tymelania did say ‘Be Best.’ So, you’ve gotta ask yourself, T-Rump. Who’s the best in your family?”

Humor Political Satire The T-Rump Dig

The T-Rump Dig … Days 872 & 876

This week’s double-feature includes: Day 872–D-Day Disaster … Sparks fly when Foxsquawkbox dino, the Lauraingraham, sits down with the Tyrumposaurus in Normandia … and … Day 876–Filler Words … The Ricksantorum blindly races to the T-Rump’s defense for the umpteenth time.

Satire The T-Rump Dig

Filler Words …

The Ricksantorum looked across the flat rock at the hard-staring Mediacircustops dinos before him. There was the deep-digging Andersoncooper, the legal expert Lauracoates and the Davidgergen, he of four-dino-regime fame. Seven years previous, the Ricksantorum had battled for Grandoldparty leadership of the free-running dino world against the Mittromney, eventually crying wolf and not much more when he got his at some nondescript Gettysburg address.

The Ricksantorum was now reduced to playing a steady role as defender of the Tyrumposaurus or hinging the unhinged as it were, for the main path Mediacircustops, who prided themselves on presenting both sides of the story as opposed to the typical Foxsquawkbox dino who had long since become the T-Rump’s Trumpeter Swamp Swan.

“We’re surprised to see you here, Rick,” said the Andersoncooper. “The Davidgergen said he’d take a flying leap in the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir if you had the nerve to show.”

“You’re too old to fly, leap or swim,” the Ricksantorum said with a nervous laugh.

“And here you are,” said Anderson, “the very day after the T-Rump says to the dino world that it is a-okay to receive dirt on your opponent from a foreign dino nation, the November Battle dino chair, the Ellenweintraub left footprints in the sand saying, let me make something 100% clear to the Milkanhoney Preservation and any dino running for a public post: It is illegal for any dino to solicit, accept, or receive anything of value from a foreign dino in connection with our November Battles. … Oh,” said Anderson. “And she added, this is not a novel concept. … Oh, and this too, I would not have thought that I needed to say this.”

The Andersoncooper eyed the Ricksantorum warily.

“I don’t know which leaves me more incredulous, this audacious — illegal act — being promoted by the T-Rump or your sitting across from me ready to, dare I say, defend it?”

“Well, actually, Anderson, the explanation is easy. Look, the president throws terms maybe … uh, he has sort of as we all do … we have filler words that we throw out there … and … that, that don’t mean what they say like, you know, I think.”

“I think?” said Anderson. “So the T-Rump is just saying … I think?”

“Pretty much.”

“I think I’m going to go throw up a Turkeysaurus. Filler words, you say. Wow. That’s a new one. You didn’t get that from the Kellyanneconvixway, did you?”

“Oh, no. I came up with this on my own.”

“You know, Rick,” said the Lauracoates, “I’m pretty sure the dino court judges are not going to buy your argument of, ahem … filler words … when the impeachment inquiry comes down the pike any day now. It begs the question that, if the T-Rump throws out these filler words, as you say we all do, perhaps you can enlighten us as to what he was really trying to say when he spoke of wanting to rip baby dinos from their mothers’ arms at the Great Tex-Mex Divide …”

“Well, uh … you see …”

“Or when he said there were good dinos on both sides of the Charlottesville Divide.”

“Uh, um, I suppose …”

“And what about throwing all his Langleyops dinos under the Priebusunderbus at Smelstinki at the smelly, stinky feet of the Putinodon? More filler words you say?”

“Okay, okay. He uses filler words to … Fill. His. Sentences. They don’t make rhyme or reason. They just … fill in the sentence. There, I said it. Sheesh! Are you happy now?”

There was tittering and giggling on the stage between the Mediacircustops at the Ricksantorum’s latest failed attempt to explain away the T-Rump’s third crisis of the day. The other two were waiting off stage.

The Kellyanneconvixway and the Huckabeecyclops watched the Mediacircustops intently. Kellyanne nudged her one-eyed colleague.

“Have you heard the latest?”

“No, what?”

“The Hatch Act …”

“You’re pregnant again?!  Oh, Kellyanne! I’m so happy for you! You’re going to lay an egg!”

“No, no. It’s not that.”

The Huckabeecyclops hadn’t briefed the Mediacircustops on Oval Dwelling matters for 94 days and had long since lost interest in keeping up with politics, laws and all things Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir. Kellyanne tried explaining.

“The Hatch, it …”

The Huckabeecyclops froze, no longer paying attention to what Kellyanne was saying. Hatchet? Ohmigod. He’s firing me. The T-Rump is letting me go. It’s those 94 days. I know it is. I should’ve said something. Anything. But I couldn’t. Those were the orders. His orders. Damn it.

“Huckabee?” asked Kellyanne. “Is something wrong?”

The Huckabeecyclops could only leer back at her. That smug, little fussbudget. That’s her, alright. Get the news from the T-Rump. No Mediacircustops. No Trollertweety. The little Lizardface has to come and tell me herself … so she can revel in my pain. We’ll see about that!

“Don’t,” she said to the Kellyanneconvixway with a killer look in her eye. “Just don’t.”

The Huckabeecyclops stormed past her and onto the flat rock to squat beside the Andersoncooper. She glared at the Ricksantorum.

“Rick, take a hike. Filler words. Hmmph. You’re an embarrassment to the Grandoldparty.”


His face froze as her eyes narrowed. His mother told him about female dinos with narrowing eyes. He quickly exited stage left.

“The Huckabeecyclops,” said the Andersoncooper. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“I wish it was under better circumstances, Anderson. I’m here to tell you I’ve been axed. Canned. Dirted down the road.”

“Do tell.”

The Kellyanneconvixway rushed up behind her.


“Still trying to steal the spotlight, are you? Go! Get away from me!”

With that, her long tail lashed out, following through and launching the petite Kellyanne into a deep shrub of Thornberries some forty yards away.

God that felt good, she thought. I can only ask myself … why did I wait so long? She turned back to Anderson.

“I lied.”

“We know.”

“No, I really lied.”

“We really know.”

“The Mueller Report finally got me. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve been lying so long it feels like the truth to me. Honest.”

“O-k-a-a-a-y. But Huckabee, why are you coming clean now? Is it the guilt? A clearing of your conscience perhaps? Concern for your family?”

“I’m not so much coming clean, Anderson … as I am ready to embark on my next career.”

“As …”

“Oh, I’m sure you can guess. For a dino like me who’s fibbed enough to impress even the exalted T-Rump.”

“Wait, are you talking about a career in … politics?”

“I’m going to be the best damn governor behind a little rock in Arkansas.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are. Say, while we have you here, any comments on the federal dinos saying the Kellyanneconvixway should be removed because of the Hatch Act?”

Her eyes went wide.

“Did you say … Hatch Act?

Satire The T-Rump Dig

D-Day Disaster …

The Lauraingraham shifted her slim hips on her rocky seat in heightened anticipation. A sly grin crossed her lizard lips. Things couldn’t be more perfect. Here she was, squatting with the Tyrumposaurus on the 75th anniversary of the great Dino Day invasion. On these hallowed grounds, tens of thousands of allied dinosaurs invaded Normandia to push back the overzealous Nazisaurae’s quest for dino dominance.

This was the T-Rump’s 55th interview with the Foxsquawkbox dinos. That was 55 more than he’d had with that other Mediacircustops outlet catering to the Andersoncoopers and Jimacostas of the dino world.

The Lauraingraham looked over the T-Rump’s shoulder at the stunning backdrop, a dinosaur burial ground that 75 years had done little to change. Skeletal remains protruded from the ground as far as the eye could see, a vivid reminder of the courage, the discipline, the massive scope of the endearing principles these fallen warriors displayed so that all dinos could be free to live in harmony.

“So glad you could join me, T-Rump. Great weather, huh?”

“Yes. I understand the Dino-Day invasion was delayed by a day because of poor weather but … not for me! I’m here so the weather is outstanding.”

“Have you enjoyed your visit thus far with the royal dino, the Elizabethantwo?”

“Fantastic. Automatic chemistry, I tell you. Auto-matic. I’m the carbon. She’s the oxygen.”

“I believe that makes carbon monoxide.”

“Great chemistry. We need more of it. She took one look at me and fell right into line. She has never had a better time than this time she’s had with me. Never before. Just don’t tell the Tymelania, okay? I’ve really got to look into this royal dino thing. There’s something to it. We wouldn’t have to deal with any more term limits, would we?”

“Afraid not. T-Rump, the Great Tex-Mex Divide remains your number one priority and three years later those left-wing radical Donkeykongrus remain incredibly slow on the uptake. Do you think that siccing five Tariffraptors on the Mexicodinos will do the trick?”

“Laura, you don’t know how badly I want to shout, Release the Tariffraptors!”

“Oh, my. T-Rump. You made my skin crawl. In a good way.”

“I have that effect on dinos. The Tariffraptor is such a beautiful dino. No, Laura, I just did the math this morning so the fake news Mediacircustops will of course get it wrong — but the migrating Latinonachos killed 100,000 dinos and ruined one million dino families. Don’t bother looking it up. You won’t find it. Just trust me on this.”

“Of course we do, T-Rump. Anything you want to get off your chest as we sit here looking over this vast memorial to dinos young and old who gave their lives so we could sit here and talk freely and frankly about the debacle that is the Donkeykongrus?”

“I didn’t come all this way for nothing. I think the Nancypelosi a disgrace. I actually don’t think she’s a talented dino. I’ve tried to be nice to her because I would’ve liked to have gotten some deals done. She’s incapable of doing deals. The thing is, she waits until I’m away from the Milkanhoney Preservation to say that I should be in the Solitary Sinkhole. Who me!? Now if I was to say anything bad about her on the dino world stage there would be major, major footprints in the sand for all dinos to see.”

“She had no right,” said the Lauraingraham. “Who does she think she is? Meanwhile you remain s-o-o-o leader-like.”

“And so I’d like to add that she’s a nasty, vindictive, horrible dino.”

“You’re on a roll, T-Rump. I’m just going to sit back and let you carry on as only you can.”

“Thank you. Now I know a month ago I said the long awaited Muellersavus footprints in the sand were gospel … but I take it all back.”

“Taking it all back,” she echoed. “Okay. Memory erase. Back track. Square one.”

“Because I can. Let’s remember where I was, ahem … before I misspoke. The Muellersavus and his 13 angry, horrible Donkeykongrus were totally biased against me. Totally. He even had to straighten out his testimony because his testimony was wrong.”

“Which is why you didn’t read it, T-Rump. Of course. You knew it was wrong all along. Never trust the boy scout dino when it’s the grifter dino in you that spots the mistakes. Enough admiring the landscape. The masses need a Cryingchuck blast, oh, esteemed leader of all things condescending.”

“You sounded there like you were treating me as royalty. Keep it up. Yes, the Cryingchuck is a disaster. He’s a total political, you know, jerk. Oh, before I forget. Just so you know, I’m actually holding up the Dino Day activities — they’re putting everything on hold so I can do your show. But that’s because I’m here with you. Congratulations on how popular you are. With me here. You and me.

“Uh … that came out of nowhere. T-Rump, as we look around during this solemn memorial, could you tell the dinos across the world what you pray for?”

“Of course. I pray for piece. You know, a piece of the action? Our dinos have to be in fighting shape. I’m responsible for putting the pieces in place there. And a piece of the moolah-moolah leaves that drive our strong dino nation. I want a big piece, I mean … I’m taking care of that too.”

“You’re the biggest, T-Rump. The best. I want to say a big thank you for visiting with us today.”

“Okay, did I say they’re holding things up for me?”

“Twice. You’ve made our day here so very special. Thanks again, T-Rump.”

The T-Rump rose and exited stage left. The Lauraingraham waited until he was out of sight. She turned to her audience of 13 lonely dinos.

“Some of you may have heard the T-Rump say he held up the Dino Day activities so he could do my interview. That is patently false. Fake news. The T-Rump can lie whenever he wants except when it makes me look bad!”