Humor Political Satire Satire The T-Rump Dig

Grand Bargain …

A stand-up, well-meaning Whistleblower dino had come forth five weeks ago with credible, urgent information that pointed a claw to some dino inside the Oval Dwelling, perhaps even the Tyrumposaurus. The Whistleblower had spoken with the powers that be in the Langleyops dino den, who in turn had forwarded the information to the dino of national intelligence. That is, more than the average walnut-brain.

Except the Whistleblower’s words stopped cold there for a week until the Adamschiff stepped in, roaring loudly of an apparent conspiracy. Could it be another cover up? More news became available and dinos across the land learned that the Oval Dwelling dino in question was indeed the T-Rump. Dino national security may have been threatened because the T-Rump had contacted a foreign dino leader and made a promise among other things. What was this promise? Dinos throughout the Milkanhoney Preservation huddled in their caves, desperately worried about their futures. The morning brought breaking news. It was shocking, beyond belief and went something like this …


I beg your pardon

I never promised you the grand bargain

Along your Russo-line

There’s gonna be the Ukraine in time

When you take the dirt they give, on Biden don’t forgive

So let Joe go, oh, oh, oh


I beg your pardon

I never promised you the grand bargain

I could promise you things like pulling some more strings

But you won’t find the Sanctionsaurus a push-over

So you better think it over

Well, if sweet-talkin’ you makes moolah-moolah too

I would give you the world and my dino intel chatter

But what would it matter?

So smile for a while, think of the Red Sea 

Conspiracy, it’s no cheap folly

Come along and share the good times while we can


I beg your pardon

I never promised you the grand bargain

Along your Russo-line

There’s gonna be the Ukraine in time

(dino humming interlude) 

I beg your pardon

I never promised you the grand bargain

I could hire your next goon and make sure he’s immune

But if my dino spy leaves a single clue

I’d just as soon let you know 

But there’s one thing I want you to grow

You better make my numbers leap, my kingdom mine to keep

And there will always be someone there to pull you out

And you know what I’m talkin’ about

So smile for a while, think of the Red Sea 

Conspiracy, it’s no cheap folly

Come along and share the good times while we can


I beg your pardon

I never promised you the grand bargain

Along your Russo-line

There’s gonna be the Ukraine in time 

I beg your pardon

I never promised you the grand bargain.

Humor Political Satire Satire The T-Rump Dig

Madam Speaker …

The Simonandgarfunkel minstrel dino tells us that heaven holds a place for those who pray. Especially those in search of the Big Story. 

The Manuraju, a young, earnest Mediacircustops, leaned against a rock pillar and yawned. It was late in the day in the Kongrus Kave. He needed a Donkeykongrus or a Grandoldparty — any dino — to throw him a bone. He heard a noise and looked up. Bingo. Said bone was coming his way. He gasped. Could it be? Yes! The Nancypelosi. A golden bone. He would have her all to himself. He paused at his great fortune. His hands turned clammy and beads of sweat sprung from his brow. Flop sweat was in the offing. This was too good to be true. She was the most powerful female dino in the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir. 40 years his elder. Still in great shape too. Her mere presence intimidated him. What to ask? How to act? She stopped before him. Mind racing, he blurted out the first thing that came to his head.

“Are you trying to run out the clock?”

She looked at him and smiled demurely.

“Let’s get sophisticated about this, okay? May I ask you a question?”

He nodded with rapt attention.

“What do you think of me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve known me nearly all of your Mediacircustops life. You must have formed some opinion.”

“Well — I’ve always thought that you were a very — nice — dinosaur.”

“Did you know I legalized wacky-tobaccy?”


“Did you know that?”

“Look — I think I should stop here …”

“Squat there, Manu.”

“Madam Speaker — if you don’t mind me saying so — this conversation is getting a little strange. Now I’m sure the Cryingchuckschumer will be here any minute.”



“He should be filibustering for several hours.”

Her tail slithered slowly on the ground, side to side.



“Oh no, Madam Speaker, oh no.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Madam Speaker, you didn’t — I mean you didn’t expect …”


“I mean — you didn’t really think that I would ask a question like that.”

“Like what?”

“What do you think?”

“Well I don’t know.”

“For God’s sake, Madam Speaker, here we are, in the halls of dino justice, your tail slithering like that, opening up about your wacky tobaccy and telling me the Cryingchuckschumer won’t be here for hours. These are serious talking points.”


“Madam Speaker — you are trying to score with me.”

They paused to look at each other. Manu was confused.

“Aren’t you?”

“Why no. I hadn’t thought of it. I feel rather flattered that you –”

“Madam Speaker, will you forgive me for how I phrased that question?”

“It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right, it’s the worst thing I’ve ever asked any dino.”


“Please forgive me. Because I respect you. I don’t think of you that way. But I have a deadline.”

“All right. Now finish your question.”

“Madam Speaker, it makes me sick that I said that to you.”

“We’ll forget it right now. Finish your question.”

“What is wrong with me?”



“Will you ask the big question? Because it’s time for me to go home to bed.”

“Oh. Well, goodnight.”

“Won’t you ask the big question?”

“I’d rather not, Madame Speaker.”

“If you still think I’m trying to score with you …”

“No, I don’t. But I just feel a little funny.”

“Why is it?”

“Because I’m confused about things here in the Kongrus Kave. I can’t tell what I’m imagining. I can’t tell what’s real. I can’t …”

“Would you like to score with me?”


“Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“This interview is over right now. I apologize for what I said. I hope you can forget it. But I’m finished right now.

He turned to leave.



“I want to say something first. These talking points: the investigation, the articles and impeachment. They are several bases to cover. First base. Second base. Third base. Accomplishing that, we can go all the way.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Manu — I want you to know I’m available to you. If you don’t want to score this time …”

“Oh my god.”

“If you don’t want to score with me this time, Manu, I want you to know you can call me anytime you want and we’ll make some kind of arrangement.”

“That’s a wrap!”

“Do you understand what I said?”

“Yes. Yes. I’m outta here!!”

There was the sound of an approaching dinosaur. It was the Cryingchuckschumer.

“Why hello, Manu. Say, I have a bombshell of an impeachment announcement you might want to know about.”

“Sorry, can’t stay. Gotta run!”

The Manuraju raced off into the darkness.

“Gee,” the Cryingchuckschumer said to the Nancypelosi. “What got into him? Kid’s got a nose for news. Always looking for the big score.”

“Not tonight he isn’t.”

Satire The T-Rump Dig

The Dread Sullivan Show …

The dino judge, the Emmetsullivan, squatted upon his judicial bedrock. It was Monday morning. Following a nice, leisurely weekend dining on Denversaurus sandwiches in Hell Creek, it was back to work. First up on the docket was the matter of the Flynnhasbeen sentencing. The court case was over. The former dino national security adviser had plead guilty to lying to the Muellersavus.

The Friday deadline had come and gone, when the prosecutor for the DOJ — Dinos Open Jawed — was to provide information on three key elements to the Flynnhasbeen’s case before the Emmetsullivan would proceed with sentencing. The dino judge had left his court cave early Friday afternoon before close of biz due to the high demand for Denversaurus sandwiches. He peered out at the DOJ prosecutor, the Brandonvangrack and motioned for him to approach the rocky bench.

“What do you have for me?” asked the Emmetsullivan, his brow at the ready to furrow.

“We’re delivering footprints in the sand of the conversation the Dowderpuff had with the Flynnhasbeen’s legal dino. The Dowderpuff basically threatened the legal dino to spill the beans on what the Flynnhasbeen told the Muellersavus … if the Flynnhasbeen wanted to remain in the T-Rump’s good graces. I suppose one might call it obstruction of justice.”


“What do you mean ‘and’?”

“You had a Friday deadline to produce three items. I see only one. Can you count?”

No response.

“Did your little dino doggy eat your homework?”

The Brandonvangrack gulped, then feigned surprise.

“O-o-o-o-h! You mean the unsmudged footprints in the sand of the Muellersavus’ report pertaining to the Flynnhasbeen.”


“Are you talking about the public release of footprints in the sand of what the Flynnhasbeen said in conversations with the Russodino, the Sergeykislyak?”

“Right on both counts. Where, pray tell, are they?”

“Oh. Well, you see, we at the DOJ decided they were, um … irrelevant.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t believe I heard you correctly. Did you say Irrelevant?”

“Yes, your honor.”

The Emmetsullivan’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you know who I am?”

“A, uh … Milkanhoney Preservation district dino judge?”

“And I am looking at …”

“A lowly Dinos Open Jawed prosecutor looking to move up a notch on the legal dino ladder by licking the feet of the attorney dino general and T-Rump’s most significant suck-up, the Williambarr.”

“Precisely. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I didn’t ask for this information or tell you that, ahem … if you could find it in the goodness of your heart, would you so mind providing me with this. Counsel, it was an ORDER!

The roar from the judge knocked the Brandonvangrack off his feet, sending him crashing against the cave wall, leaving a mark forever known as the Brandonvan Crack. For now, the legal dino picked himself up off the ground.

“Oh, yes. Heh-heh. Well, since you put it that way. … Perhaps now would be a good time to share the legal argument we spent 20 minutes working on but billed 20 hours for, so the Williambarr and the T-Rump wouldn’t know we spend most of the day scratching our nether regions.”

“Perhaps,” the Emmetsullivan said with a yawn.

“Here goes … The T-Rump government represents that it is not relying on any other conversations, of any dinosaur, for purposes of establishing the defendant’s guilt or determining his sentence, nor are there other conversations that are part of the sentencing record. Uh, like I said before, this is irrelevant.”

“If you say that word one more time, I will find you in contemptible, blatant stupidity.”

“Yes, your honor.”

“Now then, perhaps you missed the first day of legal dino school. It clearly states in the dino code under factors for determining sentencing in section 3553, sub-section A: the nature and circumstances of the offense and the history and characteristics of the defendant. Does that or does that not sound relevant to the Flynnhasbeen’s offense?”

“Okay, you got me. The Williambarr told me to tell you he has a problem with the interpretation of that line.”

“Oh he does, does he?”

“Yes. He said nature, circumstances, history, and characteristics are all pretty vague terms. He also said the Muellersavus never said boo about them.”

“This has nothing to do with the Muellersavus!”

The Emmetsullivan was hyperventilating but it felt good. Anything to shake up the Milkanhoney Preservation.

The dino judge’s eyeballs drilled a hole through the DOJ prosecutor.

“I know what you’re trying to do. You want to delay my court, don’t you?”

“Is it that obvious? Now I’m embarrassed. Court cases by definition drag on forever.”

“Not in my cave. I’m going to fast track this so fast you’ll be breaking bones with the Brettkavanaugh this afternoon.”

“Could, um … you just find me in contempt instead?”

“I’m warning you, counsel. Don’t mock me,” the dino judge growled.

“I’m not, your honor. That glare you just drilled into my brain … well, I must confess, I’ve seen the light. I’ve had my Michaelcohen moment. I – I miss working for the Muellersavus. I really do. I miss the respect, the integrity, the – the common sense. If you find me in contempt, I may lose my career as a legal dino but at least I can sleep at night. I’m tired of this assault on our institutions. You know, the assault the Williambarr says isn’t happening?”

The Emmetsullivan’s hard face softened.

“Well, you’re no Emmetflood — he exited stage left rather gracefully … but maybe I can help you.”


The dino judge locked eyes with him.

“I know you’re better than this. No former Muellersavus legal dino deserves this fate. You need to recuse yourself from this case because of a conflict of interest.”

“With the Flynnhasbeen?”

“No. With the Williambarr. His obvious politically motivated interference comes straight from the Oval Dwelling. This clash of the separation of powers is unprecedented. We are on the very cusp of a Continental Footprint Crisis!”


“Don’t you see? The DOJ is choking the system. An impeachment case against the Williambarr can only be a week or two away. Meanwhile, you go tell the attorney dino general that in addition to the two aforementioned items, I’ll be needing one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“His resignation.”

“Can you do that?”

The dino judge shrugged.

“Why not? The Williambarr has been making up the rules as he goes along. My truth and justice ultimately lies in the real court. The court of public opinion.”

Satire The T-Rump Dig

Sexism with Kellyanne …

The Stephenmillerus peered out at the overflowing dino crowd and frowned. He had a bad feeling about this. The Tyrumposaurus had wanted to do yet another vanity roadshow to augment his base with any middle-of-the-rock and left-leaning dinos.

But here at the biggest Feminist Movement in the Milkanhoney Preservation? The air was thick with estrogen. Thanks to two huge female groups, each 5000 strong. There was the cramped, angst-ridden Give Men Pause with Menopause. And of course, in light of recent events, there was Get Crackin’!, a pro-abortion group vowing to drop their eggs at any time during the three-to-six month gestation period.

Now there’s a win-win situation, thought the Stephenmillerus. If illegally migrated Latinonachos did manage to hatch any eggs, we’ll be right there to snatch their dino tots away from them.

The T-Rump sauntered onto the stage. Two dinos clapped, then stopped when they realized this wasn’t the warm-up act. A dino in the front row rose from her squat.

“What are you even doing here?”

“Wow. Tough crowd. I promise you it’ll get better. Greetings, ladies. Don’t worry, I’ll behave. I don’t want you all to get upset like that Megynkelly, bleeding from her eyes, bleeding from wherever.”

Shock and awe from the audience. Boos and angry hisses filled the air.

Behind the T-Rump, off to the side, the Kellyanneconvixway squatted, resolute, almost regal, like a prom queen waiting for some dino to ask her to dance.

“Sexist!” came a loud cry from the crowd, wiping Kellyanne’s smile from her face.

“I can’t believe this!”

She rose from her squat and strode to the T-Rump’s side.

“Listen to yourselves! Just listen. How dare you boo the leader of the Dino Nation. Where were you when the Timkaine interrupted a female debate moderator? That’s right. Interrupted. Now that was sexist.”

The apples and oranges gender-switch threw the women in the audience off-guard. The Kellyanneconvixway took this as instant victory. She motioned for the T-Rump to continue as she returned to her squat.

“Thank you, Kellyanne.” He gave the audience a smug grin. “Now then, where were we? Oh, yes. Whenever it hits, menopause or abortion, you know you love me. All the women love me. Well, maybe not the Rosieodonnell … or the Carlyfiorina. But I mean, c’mon … Look at that face. Would anyone vote for that?”

Fresh, loud boos and yells from the crowd. Jaws snapped. Nostrils flared. Several dinos were foaming at the mouth. Some respectfully headed for the exits before they did something they’d regret. Menopause does affect each dino differently. Kellyanne scampered back beside her boss.

“Hey! Where are you going? Have you no respect? You can’t just leave. That – that … whatever you just heard, that wasn’t sexist. Remember the Maziehirono verbally attacking the Brettkavanaugh–”

Boos drowned her out at the mention of the new conservative Supreme Dino Court judge. It was an ominous warning that female dinos may be forced to hatch any and all of their eggs. The Kellyanneconvixway gave the women her tired, put-upon look guaranteed to draw a response of silent, wide-eyed incredulity.

“Ladies,” she said in her favourite  condescending tone. “The Brettkavanaugh did not physically attack the Christineblaseyford. Traumatic experience. Great memory. Wrong face. So, while you’re sitting there, hatching any of your dozen eggs, just remember it was the Maziehirono who was sexist. Maziehirono. Sexist.”

She glared at them for good measure, then gripped the arm of the T-Rump, signalling he was good to go.

“You ladies are sure ramped up tonight. I see that look in your eyes. That heat of the moment anger that says you smell blood. My blood. Say, I could make some moolah-moolah off this. Two moolah-moolah leaves to smell my blood. Reminds me of the last time I saw the Mikabrezinski. She was bleeding badly from a face lift. Craned her neck too high. Very sad.”

The crowd erupted with howls and screams. The ladies were livid. Several rushed the stage but their short legs were unable to scale the rocks to reach the T-Rump. The Kellyanneconvixway was having none of it.

“Oh, come on. You think that’s sexist? What about … That’s right. It’s What About Time. Already. What about the Coreybooker? Don’t look at me like that, 10,000 female dinos. You do remember. All of you. The Coreybooker had the gall, the unmitigated audacity to announce he was running for leader of the Dino Nation when there were already women in the primary field. How about that, ladies? Can you believe it? Can you? Out and out sexism!”

Satire The T-Rump Dig

The Intervention …

“He’s coming!” hissed the Linseygraham. “Quick! Everyone, hide! And wait for my signal.”

A dozen dinos scurried for cover in the Oval Dwelling behind large rocks and piles of discarded Cheezbuggabuggas and soggy Dietcoker leaves.

The Tyrumposaurus sauntered into the cave humming some raunchy Pornodactyl dance number. He stopped in his tracks.

“Linsey? What are you doing here?”

“T-Rump. It’s time.”

“Time for what?”

The Linseygraham gulped. How did you tell the most powerful dinosaur in the world that he needed an intervention? Like two Skunkasaurae making love. Very carefully.

“Uh, time I paid you a visit to point out … not only that you’re very calm and an extremely stable genius … but that what the Donkeykongrus are doing to you … well, they’re just trying to destroy you and your family.”

“They are, aren’t they? Well, me anyway.”

“And I’m concerned about the terrible toll it’s taking on you and the, uh … affect …”

“Nothing affects me.”

“Okay then. The, uh … ominous outgrowth of  …”

“Linsey, my bone spurs are just a ruse.”

“But the Nancypelosi isn’t.”

The T-Rump’s double-blink and triple-flinch wasn’t lost on the Linseygraham. He had work to do. Lots of it. There were too many fine careers of good ol’ Grandoldparty dinos riding on this.

“I hate that woman,” growled the T-Rump.

“Send in the clowns,” Linsey remarked. “Foreign clowns.” Foreign was such a tough cue to work in on the fly. “I said foreign.”

The Larrykudlow finally ventured out from behind a rock.

“Larry?” said the T-Rump. “You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Just wrestling with another Tarrifraptor. You’ve given me so many. Yet you remain so very calm because you are the extremely stable genius here, there, everywhere. If I may digress from your loftiness …”

This was going to be a long intervention, thought the Linseygraham. His frantic eyes told the Larrykudlow to move it along.

“Foreign, yes. Your foreign trips, T-Rump.”

“Japa-yama-haha and Europa?”

“You remembered. Nicely done. But I’m sorry, you see, we — that is, Linsey and I — we need you to stay right here in the Milkanhoney Preservation, to tend to the home fires of course.”

“But we don’t make fires.”

“We don’t know how to do a lot of things but we’ll learn. From you, our extremely stable genius.”

“It is to legislate,” came the crisp cry from the Linseygraham.

“Not now,” said the T-Rump. “Can’t you see I’m on executive time?”

The Mercedeschlapp appeared.

“Impeccable timing, Mercedes,” said the T-Rump with a sly smile.

“Oh, T-Rump, it’s so good to see how very calm you are and I’m sure you’re still the extremely stable genius you’ve always been because, well … you of all dinos should know there are dinos on the other side of the path that can indeed legislate and investigate at the very same time. I mean, we can’t stop everything.”

“Oh, yes we can. Do. Nothing.”

“You’re doing my job for me,” said the Linseygraham. No dino appeared. The Linseygraham raised his voice. “What he said.”

Out popped the Huckabeecyclops.

“Oh, T-Rump, you beat-back-the-ladies dino. You’re so calm even when I know you want to reach out and smack me. You’re the extremely stable genius I can’t take my one eye off of. It’s a big, big, bigly eye looking out for you.”

“Huckabee!” snapped the Linseygraham.

The T-Rump nodded to her.

“Huckabee, tell everyone here that the Donkeykongrus cannot walk and chew gum at the same time.”

“Oh, but they can. But that’s not the real reason I’m here.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

She gave him a sorrowful, tug-on-the-heart-strings, pitiful look of despair.

“I lied.”

“So? That’s what I’m paying you for.”

She looked at the Linseygraham and then back to her boss.

“I – I need to make you believe. The Donkeykongrus are not the Do Nothing Party. We are. The Donkeykongrus are getting everything done while we just … squat here.”

A scowl spread across the T-Rump’s lips.

“It’s enough to make you say the ‘I’ word,” said the Linseygraham.

“Aha!” said the T-Rump. This is an intervention, isn’t it?”

“No, this is a campaign rally stop. With only your closest sycophants.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The Kellyanneconvixway appeared.

“Oh, esteemed calm leader of most extreme stable geniusness. That’s my alternative fact of the day. I made it up just for you because you and I both know it drives my husband crazy.”

“How sweet.”

“You want it, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Who wouldn’t?”

“The ‘I’ word, that is.”


“Impeachment, you dirty old dino. And please tell me you don’t want to be impeached because I want to lead you in your next campaign. Please, please, please.”

“That next campaign could mean war,” said the Linseygraham.

The Mikepompeo and Johnbolton promptly rolled on the ground across the cave in a dino brawl with short arms grappling and tails flapping, churning up clouds of dust.

“Very calm!” the Mikepompeo yelled between blows.

“Extremely stable genius!” hollered the Johnbolton.

Out the doorway the two dinos rolled without another intervening word.

“Ha,” said the Linseygraham, “Look on the bright side. No investigation there.”

The Seanhannity bounced onto the scene.

“T-Rump, ol’ calm buddy, ol’ extremely stable genius pal. Good to see you. Hey, I just wanted to say that, uh … well, you know those investigations into your moolah-moolah at the Mazars and on the banks of the River Deutsche? Well, uh … those investigations, they, um … appear to be moving right along. Boom, tickety boom. Just saying. It’ll get worse, so feel free to call me.”

“But Lordy,” said the Linseygraham, “give us hope.”

“Hope?” said the T-Rump. “Oh, god, let it be the Hopehicksbagotrix.”

Blank stares from the female dinos. But it was another dino who emerged into view.

“Lewandowski?” said the mildly perturbed T-Rump.

“Good to see how calm you’ve remained since birth with your extremely stable genius still as stable as the rock that’s as dumb as the Saveyourenergyrex. I’m here … well, I’m here to let you know that I too was after Hope once, and then the Robporter was and now, well, it’s the Donkeykongrus turn. But it’s not what you think. So, don’t worry. You’ll get over it. … Okay, so I still think of her from time to time. That dazzling smile …”


The Linseygraham could see it was time to play his trump card on the T-Rump.

“My, my, this has been a torture test, hasn’t it?”

All heads turned a wary eye to the next dino to arrive on the scene.

The Hogangidley.

“You’re calmer than an upside down pig in mud’n manure and you’re so extreme, so stable, so genius that I feel like a dog-eared country bumpkin squattin’ here in front of you. With that in mind, T-Rump, I want you to know that I’ve always been one to take one for the team.”

“Great, Hogan. That’s just great.”

“T-Rump,” interrupted the Linseygraham. “Now, I’ll admit I called in Hogan because you’ve been, uh … just a wee bit, shall we say … stressed … lately? Hogan will help you release that pent up frustration. Won’t you, Hogan?”

“I sure will. Cuz I’m your whippin’ dino, boss.”

“Oh, I would never whip you, Hogan. Not in a million years.”

We’ll see about that, thought the Linseygraham.

“Okay,” said the Hogangidley. “Here goes. You engaged in a cover up, threw a temper tantrum and hoo-boy, I pray for you.”

He then mercifully closed his eyes as the T-Rump’s eyes went bright red and proverbial smoke erupted from his ears. Tail lash after tail lash rained down on the poor, defenseless Hogangidley.

“Ouch! Thank you, thank you … Ow! That’s better … Ouch! Thank you, thank you …”

While the other dinos turned away from the dino debacle, the Linseygraham could only frown. A T-Rump intervention. Worst idea ever. He sighed, wondering to himself. Why won’t some dino — any dino — schedule an intervention for me?

Satire The T-Rump Dig

One for the Exodus …

Slurp. Slurp. Lick. Lick. Slurp. Lick.

Tongues wagged, saliva dripped and the mass exfoliation continued upon the Tyrumposaurus’ soiled, stinky feet. It was the daily foot-licking session in the Oval Dwelling. The Stephenmillerus, the Mickmulvaney, the Linseygraham, the Jimjordan and the Markmeadows were all in attendance, wet dino tongues at the ready.

The group was on it’s second go-around of the T-Rump’s left foot when another Grandoldparty dino’s shadow darkened the doorway.

“Hmmph,” said the T-Rump. “Justin-the-Amash. I know you’re not here to lick my feet.”

“No, I prefer washing by hand. I just wanted to let you all know … I’ve been to the mountain. And I have a dream. Oops. Sorry, wrong speech.”

The other dinos in the cave eyed him queerly. Justin-the-Amash was an Apostolic dino from the sacred Flakes-of-Kellogg region of Michigonia. They knew him to be the most conservative dino. He cleared his throat.

“I’ve come back from Mount Sigh’n Cry. I’ve seen the footprints! The 10 Muellersavus footprints. I went over them for 40 days and 40 nights. That’s four days per footprint. Have any of you even spent one second looking at one footprint?”

There were uncomfortable coughs followed by obligatory mumbling and yammering all around. The other dinos stared off into different corners of the cave, unable to look their visitor in the face. All except for the T-Rump of course.

“I am very, very proud that I can’t, I mean … don’t read.” He frowned. “You’ve got everybody’s attention now. Go ahead, tell us what you saw.”

Justin-the-Amash became starry, glassy and wide-eyed all at the same time. His long tail was ramrod straight. Indeed, he appeared to be having a religious experience.

“It was a revelation. A revelation I must finally shout long and loud to the masses. First, the epistolary …”

“The what?” asked the T-Rump.

“Footprints in the sand,” the Stephenmillerus said, leaning towards his boss. Justin-the-Amash stared down the T-Rump.

“There are ten, count’em, TEN examples of you obstructing justice.”

The other dinos withdrew in shock, like they’d just had a short arm bitten off. This couldn’t be happening. Sure, Justin-the-Amash had been a regular critic of the T-Rump but … This. Was. Huge.

“It is clear the Williambarr intended to hoodwink the dinos about the Muellersavus’ analysis and findings. The Williambarr’s misrepresentations were significant but often subtle, sleight-of-hand qualifications or logical fallacies which he hoped dinos wouldn’t notice.”

Each word from Justin-the-Amash was like a poke in the ribs to his stunned audience. It would get worse. The Mickmulvaney had already curled into the fetal position.

“The T-Rump’s conduct has violated the public trust. He has engaged in specific actions and has shown a pattern of behavior for high crimes and misdemeanors. A crime does not have to be committed. The requirement is only to find that an official dino has engaged in careless, abusive, corrupt, or otherwise dishonorable conduct. But allow me to continue with my revelation.”

The other dinos leaned forward with rapt attention. Grandoldparty dinos were always up for a good revelation. Two years of half-baked strategies, hail-mary passes and abrupt stonewalling had sapped their imaginations. Justin-the-Amash’s eyes gathered in his audience.

“Dinos, if this behavior from the T-Rump continues, we’re talking about the Apocalypse. That’s right. Dino extinction.”

The dinos shuddered. The Mickmulvaney pulled his hand from his mouth.


“Then there’s the prophetic.”

“Who’s pathetic?” asked the T-Rump.

Prophetic. It begins with the Mitchgetbacktowork in the Kongrus Kave, reading a footprint in the sand to the Gang of Eight. He describes a series of prophetic visions. First there’s the Seven-Headed Subpoenasaurus. Then there’s the Serpent and the Beast. That’s you and the Williambarr. Finally, this culminates in …”

Justin-the-Amash stopped, fixing his gaze on the leader of the dino nation. The T-Rump looked around the room.

“Would someone puh-lease tell me what the hell he’s talking about?”

Even the Stephenmillerus couldn’t bring himself to say the word. The other dinos had long since buried their heads. The Mickmulvaney was reduced to whimpering lullabies his mother taught him.

“T-Rump,” said Justin-the-Amash. “You have engaged in impeachable conduct. Impeachable. Need I remind you, our Continental Footprint is brilliant and awesome; it deserves a dino leader to match it.”

The T-Rump jumped from his squat.

“Impeachment!? Justin-the-Amash, I was never a fan of you. You’re a total lightweight. A loser!”

“Are you even listening? No, of course not. That’s why I’m making a stand right here. Right now. Who’s with me?”

He looked around the cave at the other dinos cowering in silence. Just then the Huckabeecyclops burst into the Oval Dwelling.

“What is it, Huckabee?” asked the T-Rump. “I told you we’d celebrate 10 weeks without a Mediacircustops briefing later.”

“It’s that damn Newyorktimesian dino again.”

“What fake news now?”

“They’re saying five dinos claim you and the Kushneratops engaged in suspicious activity with moolah-moolah leaves on the banks of the River Deutsche. Also, that the Kushneratops sent moolah-moolah to the Russodinos. Can you believe it? Don’t worry, boss. If they catch me outside the Oval Dwelling, I’ll make like I’m going to eat them, then deny everything.”

She turned and stomped out of the cave. The T-Rump and his followers lowered their heads somewhere between grief and consternation. Justin-the-Amash rose to leave.

“Well, my mind’s made up. You can come with me … or stay and discuss all those other investigations. How many are there now … 20?”

Justin-the-Amash left the Grandoldparty group, their tails planted firmly between their legs. He would be the first. One for truth. One for justice. One for the exodus.


Satire The T-Rump Dig

Watergate? Just Wait! …

“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?”


“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.”


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.”


“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.”


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.”

Satire The T-Rump Dig

Be Worst …


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?”

Satire The T-Rump Dig

The 12 Days of T-Rump’s Mess …

“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.”