Satire The T-Rump Dig

Huckabee’s Hike …

“W-h-i-i-i- … W-h-i-i-i- …”

Try as she might, the Huckabeecyclops simply couldn’t whistle on her way to work. But she wouldn’t let that spoil her Monday. Not a chance.

I have the best job in the world she thought. I don’t have to do anything. Once upon a time the press secretary briefed the Mediacircustops every day. Who needs that? She only needed to put in an appearance every six weeks. What a dream job.

There was one tricky issue however. Getting to the Oval Dwelling without being noticed by the Mediacircustops and their damn questions. Always with the questions. She changed her route to work every day as a precaution. Today’s route took her through a rattlesnake pit, a crocodile-infested swamp and a wild and woolly mammoth retreat.

Almost there she thought, following the 28th wolf whistle from one of the retreat’s wild and woollier mammoths. Just another mile to the underground tunnel.



Dammit. It was the Kaitlyncollins. That snarky little miss priss of the Mediacircustops. With those sassy eyes the Huckabeecyclops would gladly trade her own for. Damn her sassy eyes!

“When the Tyrumposaurus spoke with the Putinodon yesterday, did the T-Rump tell him not to interfere in next year’s November battle?”

“You’re obviously not listening. Have you forgotten Smelstinki already? Why in the world would the T-Rump insult the Putinodon when the Russodino already denied all past, present and future involvement?”

“What about Venezuela Villa? The Mikepompeo and the Johnbolton said that the Putinodon told the Nicholasmaduro to stay put but the T-Rump now says the Putinodon was never involved. Who’s telling the truth?”

“Pay attention, Kaitlyn. There’s a fake news lesson to be had here. Never run with a story until the Putinodon has spoken.”

“Is there any truth to the rumor that the Putinodon called the Russodino hoax a mountain reduced to a mole hill and it was the T-Rump who changed mole hill to mouse?”

The Huckabeecyclops lone eye was cycling like crazy. She lashed out.

“Are you accusing the T-Rump of mixing metaphors?!”

“How could I? He doesn’t know what one is. The Michaelcohen is going to the Solitary Sinkhole today. Is the T-Rump worried that his former legal dino will have one last damaging piece of information to use against the T-Rump?”

“We are in a state of total denial, I mean … we are blocking every Subpoenasaurus, every demand, every request. No more please and thank you. It’s Katie-bar-the-door and to hell with solicitors. All of them. How did it get this way? You just have to look at the previous dino administration. Terrible. Disgusting.”

Do you have any examples, Huckabee?

Countless. But I refuse to do your job for you. Keep looking. You seem to be good at that. Remember, if it involves the Obamasaurus, it’s not harassment.

“Another deadline comes this week for the Sin Hut committee to view the T-Rump’s mytaxes returnus. The Stevenmnuchin continues to ask for more time. Is this a delay tactic?”

“Nonsense! Have you seen the Stevenmnuchin work? S-l-o-o-o-w as a pig in a poke.”


“Look, sister, I’m tired of being asked to explain myself!”

“That’s your … uh, never mind. It’s been recently reported that the Charlesretig, head of the Mytaxes Returnus Service owned two rental luxury caves in Maui-Maui Land with the T-Rump’s name on them. The Charlesretig made a million moolah-moolah off them. With such a glaring conflict of interest, how on earth can he make an unbiased decision on releasing the T-Rump’s mytaxes returnus?”

“Well,” the Huckabeecyclops harrumphed. “You certainly didn’t get that information from me.”

“Of course not, we never get ANY information from you. For two years, nothing. No substance. Just deflection, spin and lies. I have half a mind to just throw it all away and follow you around for the rest of my life, heckling you whenever you sit down to eat.”

The Huckabeecyclops looked at her horrified.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Fake news,” the Kaitlyncollins said with a smirk.

For a second the Huckabeecyclops and the Kaitlyncollins connected on some remote, bizarre wavelength of feminine camaraderie. For all of two nanoseconds. It then snapped into oblivion. Kaitlyn eyed Huckabee coyly.

“Care to comment on what just happened there?”

“Since you asked … no.”

“Anything new on the Subpoenasaurus’ for the T-Rump’s moolah-moolah activities at the Deutsche River bank and his accounting dinos?”

“Don’t even go there. That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Which, ahem … is why I’m here.”

“Well then, I’m not telling. Oops. Did I say that? You know the drill.”

“Oh, you mean go ask the dinosaur’s legal dino?”

“That’s about it. My, my, look at the time. I’ve got to get in to work. I have such a busy, busy day ahead of me.”


“Oh, gee. Where to begin? Well, there’s my one-hour morning shuck and slurp.”

“Excuse me?”

“Java beans. Need that caffeine to stay awake during my two-hour mani-pedi.”

“Two hours?”

“Have you seen my feet? Then there’s lunch. Ah, food. Glorious food. I’m a growing girl. And you know what they say. Big lunch. Big nap. I need my rest for this incredibly important position. Eight hours at night simply isn’t enough. Anything less, I get kind of cranky.”

“Huckabee, you’re paid to inform the dino nation.”

“One at a time. I’m talking with you right now, aren’t I? And I’ve been s-o-o-o-o-o transparent. I have nothing to hide. I really have to go.”

She hurried away, leaving the smirking Kaitlyncollins. The Huckabeecyclops made a mental note. Tomorrow take the Amazon giant bee route. She sighed. Oh well, another day, another 719 moolah-moolah leaves.

Humor Political Satire

The T-Rump Dig … Days 830 & 834

This week’s double feature: Day 830–Principle on Patrol … The Jerrynadler and the Williambarr discuss a certain Subpoenasaurus … and Day 834–Soul Eater … The Williambarr doubles down on double-speak before the Sin Hut Hearing.

Satire The T-Rump Dig

Soul Eater …

The Linseygraham’s tail slapped down hard on the flat rock. Twice. The Sin Hut Hearing was in session. The toady Williambarr and his indelible frown squatted before the Donkeykongrus and Grandoldparty Sin Hutters. His prospects indeed looked grim. After all, it was only the night before when news broke that the Muellersavus had informed the Williambarr on several occasions that his four-footprint summary of the Muellersavus’ report was simply swamp scum. This, after the Williambarr had told everyone for a month that he and the Muellersavus were good ol’ dino pals at the DOJ (Dinos Open-Jawed.)

“Alright then,” said the Linseygraham. “I just want to say off the top … for me, this is OVER. Yessirree. Over. You may want to stick around though. I may drop an F-bomb. So behave yourself, Blumenthal.”

Suddenly the Comeyonus ran in front of the Sin Hut hearing, hands raised, a worried look in his eyes.

“A word of warning. Watch your soul!

With that he scampered off into the bush.

“Good grief,” the Linseygraham, said, rising from his squat, his neck already turning red. “Hurry up and get yapping, Blumenthal, before we get more crazies comin’ out of the woods.”

The skinny Blumenthal gazed down at the stocky Williambarr. He’d need to measure every word against the wily, highest ranking legal dino in the land.

“Attorney dino general, now that we know you know we know …”

“Excuse me? I’m not sure I understand who is you and who is we?”

“Okay. I’ll try and keep this easy for you. When the Muellersavus spoke with you, saying he was upset with how you misrepresented his report, did any dino make footprints of that converation?”

“There were footprints.”

“May we see them?”


“Why not?”

“Why should you see them?”

“Because I’m looking for a lead in my next dino play called ‘A.G. — Absolute Goofball’”

“F-Bomb!” shouted the Linseygraham. “Again! This is over! Not the F-bombs though. Sorry, dino tots out there, but I warned you.”

The Linseygraham then called upon Grandoldparty Sin Hutter, the Joshhawley, who spent his five minutes talking about a Langleyops spying on a Grandoldparty dino, pointing to evidence of their fossilized remains being found too close together in sedimentary rock from two million years ago. The Maziehirono was up next.

“Attorney dino general … and I use that term loosely. You substituted your own political judgement. The Muellersavus objected to your silly summary. You lied about it. You have betrayed our trust. The dino nation deserves better. You should resign.”

“Says who? I dare any dino to stand up and state their name if they dare call for my resignation.”

The rustling in the crowd was immediate.

“The Corybooker!”

“The Elizabethwarren!”

“The Kirstengilibrand!”

“Okay, okay. That’s enough.”

But the dino tide was rolling.

“The Betoorourke!”

“The Juliancastro!”

“The Jayinslee!”

“The who?! Hah, and you call yourself leaders?”

“The Joebiden.”

Ooh. That’s bad. The Williambarr slumped back into his squat.

“Okay, Maizie. Lay it on me.”

The Maiziehirono came high and hard.

“Do you think it’s okay for the T-Rump to offer pardons to dinos who don’t testify against him, to threaten the family of a dino who does? Is that okay?”

“Uh … what … when did he offer … uh, a pardon to some dino in order to …”


“What do you mean please?”

“It comes right before thank you, dummy. Give us some credit for knowing what the hell is going on around here.”

“F-bomb!” shouted the Linseygraham. “You’ve slandered this dino from top to bottom! F-bomb! F-bomb! F-bomb! Whew. I’m wearing my integrity out. Now do I have your attention? Because for me this is definitely over. I’m in overtime now. Do you get what I’m saying? W-a-a-a-a-y over into a place I don’t even want to tell y’all about. Because it scares me. … Ahem. The Thomtillis. Over to you, brother. Help me help you.”

The Thomtillis peered down at the Williambarr as one might a newborn dino in a rocky crib.

“Dear sweet attorney dino general. Is your rock comfy enough? Can I get you a little drink of dietcoker?”

“I’m fine.”

“Any aching joints I can massage? You’ve been squatting quite awhile now.”

“Well, I don’t know if I should be prostrate … or if it’s just my prostate.”

“I won’t pester you with any more questions. You can use my remaining four minutes to just think happy thoughts. Don’t you worry about those Russodinos. It’s all just a bad dream.”

“Thank you.”

Four agonizing minutes passed and it was the Kamalaharris’ turn.

“Tell me, attorney dino general. Did you even look at the evidence before rendering your decision?”


“I believe that to be absolutely enlightening — and deeply troubling to the entire dino nation.”

“I’m not in the business of determining when lies are being told to the Milkanhoney Preservation.”

“Well, you should be because that’s who you work for! … Now then, did the Oval Dwelling or the T-Rump ask you to open an investigation on any dino? Just one. Any time. Any where. Any dino. Yes or no?”

“Could you repeat the question? An octave higher. It, uh … might register.”

She repeated the question, ignoring the octave request.

“Umm, the T-Rump or any other dino?”

“Oh, I get it. You’re an attorney dino general look-alike. Very convincing. … But seriously, it seems you’d remember something like that and be able to tell us.”

“Yeah, but I’m trying to grapple with the word ‘suggest,’ … There have been discussions of matters out there that they have not asked me to open an investigation, but –”

“I was not asked to do a billion things yesterday, attorney dino general. Perhaps they suggested … hinted?”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t say suggest. I don’t know. I don’t think there’s a word in the English language for it. So, why guess? That and I don’t want to perjure myself. I’m taking a huge chance just by opening my mouth.”

“And your time is up,” said the Linseygraham. “S-o-o-o-o close, Kamala. Better luck next time. That was some masterful hair-splitting, attorney dino general. Please, if you don’t mind, could you regale us with some more of your outstanding obfuscation.”

“Well, I found the Muellersavus’s footprints in the sand to me to be snitty. Put there probably by some staffer with big feet. I am considering adding snitty to hate speech.”

“Snitty, huh? That does sound criminal. Then it must be. We’ll have to launch an investigation. The staffer as an accomplice. This is right up there with the Peterstrzok and the Lisapage. You should get the word out as well to the Foxsquawkbox. The Seanhannity is down to attacking the Bruceohr again. He needs new fodder.”

“Of course. I just find this whole thing sort of mind-bendingly bizarre.”

“You have been under extreme pressure.”

“I don’t know how this happened,” said the Willliambarr. “The Muellersavus has been my baby.”

“Uh, you mean his report is now your baby.”

“No, no. I’m his boss. He’s my baby.”

“O-k-a-a-a-y. You did say mind-bendingly bizarre. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off. And tomorrow too. You’ve earned it. Okay, everyone. That’s it. You can all go home. Hey, it really is over. For once, I’m right.”

The Linseygraham and his fellow Grandoldparty Sin Hutters quickly slipped out side exits to avoid probing questions from the Mediacircustops. They didn’t notice the Comeyonus standing at the main entrance, reciting over and over his mantra for the masses …

“Accomplished dinos lacking inner strength can’t resist the compromises necessary to survive the T-Rump and that adds up to something they will never recover from. It takes character to avoid the damage because the T-Rump eats your soul in small bites.”

Satire The T-Rump Dig

Principle on Patrol …

“This one’s got no bite. Here, see?”

The Jerrynadler held open the jaws of the young Subpoenasaurus. The Williambarr peered in.

“No teeth alright. Excellent. Just the one for me.”

“Not so fast,” said the Jerrynadler.I’m responsible for your Subpoenasaurus, remember? And I have just the one in mind.”

He pointed to a large Subpoenasaurus on the other side of the pen. Huge in stature, the dino had a solid frame beginning with a rock-solid foundation. His firm gaze and fair hand was a constant, steady balance of truth and justice. It was his muscle however, that swayed public opinion. One did not mess around with a Subpoenasaurus. The Jerrynadler waved to the magnificent mammal.

“Pop! Come on over here.”

The duty-bound dino approached them.

“Pop?” said the Williambarr. “That’s a strange name for a Subpoenasaurus.”

“P-O-P. Principle on Patrol. He’s a beast of burden. Of proof. Aren’t you, Pop?” The Jerrynadler clapped him good-naturedly on the back. “Proof is just what we need, isn’t it, Bill?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That’s the reason I’m here.”

“Would you give us a minute?” the Jerrynadler asked Pop.

“Funny, the Elijahcummings said the same thing.”

“Don’t go too far. The Williambarr will be your next bone of contention.”

The Subpoenasaurus found a nearby shrub of Malaise. He munched on it greedily, confidently.

The Williambarr bristled.

“His bone of contention?! Are you kidding me? We may be carnivores, Jerry, but this is abusive and illogical behaviour.”

“What are you trying to say, Bill?”

The Williambarr snuck a peek at the Subpoenasaurus.

“Between you an me, Pop can go hop on some other dino.”

“You don’t want to bluff with Pop. He’s not just any Subpoenasaurus. He will use any means necessary.”


“Sorry, I’m not at liberty to divulge his methods. You’ll just have to scream long and loud into the night conjuring up your own images of demented torture.”

“Damn you, Jerry. You know I’m a light sleeper. Maybe we can work something out.”

“I’m listening.”

“This questioning format. Particularly the second round of questions. Half an hour of questions, from legal dinos no less! They’re smarter than your average Kongrus Kave dino. They may pry, Jerry. I hate it when they pry.”

“Bill, you are not going to dictate the format of my committee. I expect to see the full, unredacted report.”

“Impossible. I will release a less-redacted report and … I only want a select few dinos to see it.”

“Select few? Like who?”

“Relatives. Friends. And neighbors. My neighbors could see it.”

“That’s crazy, Bill.”

“Okay, okay. You read my poker face, didn’t you? Neighbors was negotiable. But friends, Jerry. That’s on you.”

“Do you have any left? Bill, there is one thing you said though, that has me scratching my head.”  

“Oh, you mean when I said I’m not a fact witness?”

“What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea. But I’m getting great traction out of it. Now I can say anything about the Muellersavus report and dinos believe me! Isn’t that great?”

“Uh. No.”

“Face it, Jerry, I’ve shown nothing but transparency and good faith.”

“Excuse me? Transparency and good faith? Like when you grossly mischaracterized the Muellersavus’ findings? Or when you raised suspicions by not prosecuting the T-Rump when the Muellersavus left evidence piled under your nose like a T-Rump dump? Or your blantantly bogus meeting 90 minutes before the report came out so you could put your cozy, toady T-Rump spin on it one last time? Have you no shame? You’re the attorney dino general for crying out loud! Act like it!”

“Oh, I am alright. And you can tell Pop over there to take a hike. Sleepless nights or not. No Subpoenasaurus. No sirree.”

Just then a pair of dinos came trudging into view. It was the Linseygraham and the Jimjordan, who appeared to be laboring, leaning heavily on the Linseygraham as they made their way along the path. They finally arrived beside the two dinos. The Jerrynadler looked at the Linseygraham.

“What happened to him?”

“The worst luck. Ol’ Jimmy here was struck by lightning. Twice! And now he, he’s just plain delirious. Listen to him.”

The Jimjordan shook his head and cleared his throat.

“I – I’ve been thinking. Just recently. Like my mind has been cleaned out. A fresh slate. With the smell of fried, frayed nerve endings. But fresh ideas. Yes! Like the Carlkline and all those security clearances. Hey! Is that a Subpoenasaurus over there?!”

“Yes it is,” said the Williambarr. “Try and stay calm, Jim.”

“No! I won’t be calm. I think that lightning wanted me to say something. It hit me twice, remember? I get the picture. Like the spots inside my eyelids. No Subpoenasaurus for the Carlkline. Let him speak. Let him spill his guts.” He burped. “Speaking of which. Linsey? That tree over there. I need to …”

“Say no more, little buddy.”

The Linseygraham helped him to yonder tree where the Jimjordan proceeded to leave his lunch. His fellow Grandoldparty dino consoled him.

“There, there, little buddy. Get all that nasty Donkeykongrus stuff out of your system.”

Never one to miss an opportunity, the Jerrynadler turned to the Williambarr.

“Not exactly what you and I were talking about, but I’ll take it. Now then, I’d like to have the Muellersavus come in and testify before the committee.”

“Over my dead body!” the Linseygraham hollered from afar. “I do not want to hear from the Muellersavus. Are you kidding me? It would be too much of a circus!”

Satire The Trump Dig

Biden Time …

The Joebiden looked up at the gleaming sun and smiled anew. It was going to be a great day. He’d just announced he’d be seeking leadership of the Donkeykongrus party. Now to get out and about, start raking in the moolah-moolah leaves. Press some flesh with the flesh-eaters — the gap-toothed to the razor sharp. Short arm fist bumps, some low-fives and a good tail-whack here and there.

He spotted a Subpoenasaurus coming his way. The Joebiden stuck out a short arm.

“Mornin’, I’m the –”

“Sorry, no time to chat. I’m after the Tyrumposaurus’ mytaxes returnus.”

The determined dino scampered past him and  down the trail. The Joebiden looked after him.

“That’s right. Joebiden. Tell your friends! You’ll need them to help you find the T-Rump’s elusive spring skin.”

Soon another Subpoenasaurus came barreling down the path. The Joebiden pointed in the direction of the previous hard-charging dino.

“Mytaxes returnus? That-a-way.”

“Oh, no,” said the Subpoenaurus as he whizzed by. “I’m after the full, unredacted Muellersavus report. See ya!”

The Joebiden’s smile lost some of its gleam. This just wouldn’t do. If we was going to recruit dinos it was obvious he’d need a captive audience.

Half an hour later he arrived at the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir’s dino dungeon, the Solitary Sinkhole. If the Berniesanders was going to give the incarcerated the vote, he needed to get out in front.

The Joebiden strolled through the prison grounds, peering down the many sinkholes, dropping his name with a wink and a smile. He was careful not to let his tail get too close to the hole lest he get dragged in. He looked down one hole and was taken aback. He was staring at the dino responsible for adding the citizenship question to the dino census.

“The Johngore? Is that you? The Justice Department Principal Deputy Assistant Attorney Dino General?” 

One and the same.

“Maybe you should just go with ‘acting.’ What are you doing down there?”

“They got me on some trumped-up contempt of court charge. But it’s for a good cause.”

“So dinosaurs will be afraid to identify themselves? Drive down dino numbers and choke our dino democracy?”

“Joe, I admit I didn’t really think it through. The T-Rump said no and you know how he gets. I don’t need my ancestry, my wife, my family all disgraced by him from the bully pulpit.”

“Has the T-Rump stopped by? Brought you some food?”

“No and no. When it rains though, the mud tastes a bit better. Less muddy.”

“Less muddy,” said the Joebiden. “That’s nice.”

The Joebiden moved on to the next sinkhole. Lo and behold. It contained the dino security official, the Carlkline. 

“Carl, don’t tell me. The Subpoenasaurus?”

“Contempt of court. Yeah, yeah. They got me. All because I wouldn’t appear before the committee to blab about those 30 security clearance cases.”

“You mean the ones where the Langleyops said those dinos couldn’t get clearance to run a dino daycare?”

“Hey! I was just doin’ my job. No questions asked.”

“But your job was to ask questions.”

A mute expression from the Carlkline. Not computing. There was a lot of this within the Grandoldparty ranks. The Joebiden soldiered on.

“Carl, I have a way you can make this right. Or at least rejoin the road to redemption.”

I’m not voting for you.

“Suit yourself. How’s the mud?”

The Joebiden moved onto the next sinkhole. He recognized the dino squatting beside it.

“The Donmcgahn? I never thought …”

“No, no. Of course not. I’m just visiting.”


The Joebiden leaned over the sinkhole, peering down at the dino inside.

“The Stephenmillerus? My word. Contempt? You too?”

“Oh, I’ll show them contempt,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’ve, uh … got to be going,” said the Donmcgahn. “A date with the committee.”

The legal dino hurried for the exit.

“Shut up, Don!” screamed the Stephenmillerus. “You’d better shut up! Long live the T-Rump!”

“Temper, temper,” said the Joebiden. “I’m beginning to see why those four senior Homeland Security dinos up and left.”

The Stephenmillerus seethed from below.

“They were weak. And meek. Like meeces. I hate them meeces to pieces!”

The Joebiden sighed. He felt sorry for the Stephenmillerus. An obviously challenging dino tot-hood. The Stephenmillerus railed on.

“They don’t understand zero tolerance. Zero means zero.”

He scowled up at the Joebiden.

“You’re looking at zero.”

“No argument there.”

“Our southern border is being overrun by the murdering Latinonachos and you squat there with open arms.”

“I’m squatting here looking down at a dino who’s been convicted of contempt of court.”

“The T-Rump will look after me.”

“Oh, yeah? How’s the–”

“I like mud.”

The Stephenmillerus scooped up a handful and licked at it, steeling himself against the brackish taste. The Joebiden cringed.

“Uh, did you hear about the Larryhopkins, that renegade dino who was tracking down and holding Latinonachos dinos at the Great Tex-Mex Divide before finally being apprehended?”

The Stephenmillerus smirked.

“My kind of dino.”

“Well, evidently, while he was in the Solitary Sinkhole, he was attacked by several Latinonachos.”


The Joebiden turned away from the sinkhole.

“Afraid so. My, my. Isn’t that a coincidence,” he said, raising his voice as he headed for the exit. “Here you are, a dino responsible for ripping dino tots away from their mothers and you just so happen to be in a solitary sinkhole … surrounded by well-meaning, far-from-home Latinonachos who are just trying to make an honest moolah-moolah leaf to send home to their families. Their loved ones. … Joebiden’s the name. I’ll be there for you. Ahem, not you, Stephen.”

The Joebiden gone, several Latinonachos began descending into the Stephenmillerus’ sinkhole.

“No. No. Stay away from me. I’m warning you. I’m a bully. A big, bad … outnumbered bully. Don’t touch me! Let go of me! A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-g-h!”

The Stephenmillerus awoke in a panic, jumping out of his nest. He gulped for air. It was all a bad dream. Just a dream. He blinked his eyes and finally sneered.

He’d had worse.

Satire The Trump Dig

A Posse’s Creed …

“A little more, a little to the right.”

The Jimjordan’s tail pointed directions from behind the massive boulder. A huge Brontosaurus pushed the stone in front of the cave, concealing the Jimjordan and the Markmeadows inside and in the dark.

“Uh, Jim?”

“What is it?”

“How are we going to get out later?”

“Details, Mark. We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

The two dinos were inside the Gollee-Gotcha Tomb near Calvary Crossing. It was a Grandoldparty cave used as a think tank in generations past. Not as much thinking done these days. Now just another old dinos’ club.

Today was the Great Dino Sabbath, a spring day when dinos counted their blessings. Without opposing thumbs. The celebration featured little dino tots scampering around searching for dino eggs. The novelty had long since worn off however, as it was next to impossible to hide a dinosaur egg.

Inside the dark cave, the Jimjordan and the Markmeadows held their tails over their hearts and together recited their dino party’s maxim, “A Posse’s Creed.”

“We believe in capitalism,

Conservatism almighty,

Creator of corruption and greed,

And in the T-Rump,

Its most in debt dino,

Our ruler,

Who was conceived by some strange notion,

Hatched from a cracked shell,

Suffered under the Mediacircustops,

Was crucified, died and was buried on the back page;

He descended upon the Crookadillary;

On the weekend he arose to go flogging;

He ascended into obscene wealth,

–That’s comfortably well off to you and me;

He squats wherever he wants to.

From there he will mock the living and the dead.

Just ask the Mccainus.

We believe in the devil-may-care spirit,

The evangelicals pick and choose,

The compound interest,

The forgiveness of loopholes,

The deregulation of the land,

And luxury everlasting.”

“Bless you, Tricky Dick.”

“Who said that?” asked the Jimjordan.

The Markmeadows felt around in the dark.

“Is that you, Roger–”

“Correction, the Rogerstone.”

“Sorry,” said the Jimjordan. “You’re bad news. We can’t be seen with you.”

He moved to the entrance, feeling for the boulder.

“C’mon, Mark. Put your back into it.”

The two dinos huffed and puffed and pushed the big rock away from the opening. They collared the dirty trickster dino and dragged him out kicking and screaming.

“Stop it! How dare you! You can’t remove a Stone from the Tomb! You Mutt an’ Jeff, you!”

“That’s Mark and Jim,” corrected the Markmeadows.

They tossed him aside Good Samaritan Way to test the resolve of any well-meaning dino. The Markmeadows paused, looking down at the disgraced dino.

“Do you wonder sometimes if … is he the reason we’re here?”

The two dinos looked at each other.


Another Brontosaurus looking to make a quick couple of moolah-moolah leaves happened by and within moments sealed them back inside the Gollee-Gotcha Tomb.

In the pitch dark, the Markmeadows sensed something other than the dank, musky odor.

“Do you smell turkey?”


The sound came from the corner.

The Jimjordan took a step closer.

“Mitch? Is that you?”

Indeed it was the Sin Hut majority leader, the Kentuckygobbler, the Mitchgetbacktowork. The Markmeadows put his hands on his hips.

“You’ve been there the whole time? How come you didn’t help us push the stone?”

“I’d like to push him off a cliff.”

“The large stone,” said the Jimjordan. “So, what are doing in here by yourself?”

“You’re not hiding are you?” asked the Markmeadows.

“After the Meullersavus report? Of course I’m hiding! The T-Rump should be in the Solitary Sinkhole for the rest of his life! His sons, his daughter, the whole lot should be fricasseed!”

Fricasseed was dino lingo for running the wrong way in a forest fire.

“Calm down, you old fart,” said the Jimjordan. “You need to loosen up and shed that outer skin now and then. Look at me.”

“Jim’s right,” said the Markmeadows. “We have ways of dealing with the Meullersavus report.”

“You do?”

“Sure,” said the Jimjordan. “If some meddling Mediacircustops asks if you think the attorney dino general was acting as the legal dino for the T-Rump and not the dino nation, well … you just answer, no, I think the A.G. rendered himself extremely well. He said we’re going to hold dinos accountable. Last week he talked about the spying that took place. Spying! I think he handled himself exactly the way all dinos want him to operate. We have to get to the bottom of the Comeyonus Cabal. He leaked info to the Mediacircustops to manufacture this need for the Meullersavus. That’s what needs to be looked at and that’s what good ol’ Billy Barr is gonna do.”

The Jimjordan clapped his hands in glee while the Markmeadows cautioned the Mitchgetbacktowork.

“Maybe you don’t want to call him Billybarr just yet. But to Jim’s point, when they ask if the T-Rump had actually fired the Muellersavus and how it would’ve change the story? You just say, we don’t know. The fact of the matter is that he did conclude the investigation. And listen, you know the T-Rump and I know the T-Rump and if he wanted to fire the Muellersavus, he damn well would’ve! Damn straight!”

The giddy Jimjordan jumped back in.

“And if they have the audacity to claim the Meullersavus was simply kicking this over to the Kongrus Kave, well … you just tell them the entire dino nation said the Muellersavus was the best legal dino in history, the definitive end-all dino and he chose not to indict. … That’s the bottom line. Most dinos are tired of this double standard. One set of rules for us regular dinos — not counting the Jeaninepirro — but a different set of rules if your name is Comeyonus or the Crookadillary.”

“Exactly,” the Markmeadows chimed in. “If we play by the Adamschiff rules, then the Adamschiff would be guilty when he met with the Glennsimpson down Fusion-Geepee-Yes way that started this entire thing, uh … in Colorado Flats. He would’ve been guilty of, of … coordinating with, with, uh … some dino who actually has put false, uh … testimony before, uh … the Langleyops. You know, those dino feds we only speak nice of when we need’em? And so, uh … when we look at this … are you still with me, Mitch?”

“Heck, no.”

“See how effective it is? So just trash the parts of the report you don’t like. Cherry pick the rest. Everybody likes cherries, right?”

The three Grandoldparty dinos nodded, salivating, jowls dripping, leaving puddles at their feet.

“Okay,” said the Jimjordan, “I think we’re good to go.”

The Markmeadows tapped the Mitchgetbacktowork on the shoulder.

“One more thing. Whatever you do, don’t pull a Giuliani.”

“How so?”

“Don’t say it’s okay to accept information from the Russodinos.”

“Good grief. I’m not an idiot.”

They leaned into the boulder and once more moved the stone from the tomb. Trollertweeties flying overhead squawked, sounding eerily similar to archangels but the dinos ignored it. They went their separate ways, making it harder for any dino to track them down.

Five minutes later the Tyrumposaurus came upon the Gollee-Gotcha Tomb. Head down, he was very animated, talking to himself.

“I never agreed to testify … I don’t have to respond to statements about me in the report … they’re total B.S. … only makes the other dino look good … and makes me look bad. Total B.S.”

He stopped in his tracks. He saw the stone moved from the tomb. He stepped closer and peered inside the dark cave.

“Mitch? Jim? Mark? I know you’re in there. Hey, did you hear the latest? The fuss from the Muellersavus report has risen up. Risen up alright. Again. It’s the worst. Total B.S. … We have to put an end to this. Guys?”

Satire The Trump Dig

Preemptive Scrum …

The large, squat, toad-like Williambarr gazed out at the massive gathering of Mediacircustops. It was Act 28 of his long-running play at upstaging the Muellersavus report, 400-plus footprints in the sand that had taken 22 months for the veteran Langleyops and his meticulous crew to stamp into Trumpassic Period history.

The Williambarr beamed at his latest public relations coup. Once more he’d put the Tyrumposaurus spin on the report, ingraining the T-Rump’s innocence upon all things collusive and obstructive — 90 minutes before the rest of the dino world even had a chance to see what he was talking about.

“Welcome, dinos,” the attorney dino general began. “We meet again. I’m not going to apologize for getting out ahead of the Muellersavus on this one. In a time where many dinos beg off, saying that’s above my pay grade. Well, heh-heh … it’s not above mine. No, sirree. There was no collusion with the Russodinos or obstruction of justice. The Tyrumposaurus and his Oval Dwelling dinos bent over backwards — quite a feat for some of these dinos who are practically invertebrates. That is, without backbone. Forget the fire and brimstone cries of ‘Fake News’ from the bully pulpit. It’s the thought that counts. The T-Rump could have asserted executive privilege but out of the clean, pristine goodness of his heart, he didn’t. Ahem. Whatta guy.”

The Williambarr dabbed his eyes. Try as he might, tears wouldn’t come. Did that make him a bad actor? Oh well, on with the show.

“It almost brings me to tears, and it should you too. I’ll tell you why the T-Rump behaved this way. He said he may speak with you later, but let’s call that a little white lie for now. The T-Rump entered an unprecedented situation when he entered the Oval Dwelling. There is substantial evidence … and this is a rare case where the Muellersavus and I do agree … that the T-Rump was frustrated and yes, even angered by the investigation undermining his leadership. So, based on this golden public relations opportunity I’ve orchestrated, I can’t say it enough. Don’t read the report too deeply, because there was no collusion. The Muellersavus however and the Rodrosenstein squatting behind me, who looks to have contracted some strange illness since arriving, both disagree. Remember, they’re beneath me. Apparently the Muellersavus has outlined ten instances of potential obstruction by the T-Rump. But I ask you. 10 instances? Is that all he could come up with? If you stack that up with the T-Rump’s 9500 lies, why that’s only 1 obstruction every 95 lies. I’d call that a 95 percent success rate. I’ll take those odds. Every time. You should too. Now then, I’ll take a few questions.”

The Shimonprokupecz raised a short arm, put on his best sneer and fired first.

“I was going to ask you if you’re making this up as you go along, but we all know the answer to that one.”

A few snickers from the scrum. The Shimonprokupecz continued.

“Seeing as how you won’t let us see the Muellersavus report for another hour-and-a-half, that leaves us with nothing to talk about.”


“Except you.”


Uh-oh. This wasn’t supposed to go this way. The Williambarr took a deep breath. Yes, he’d signed on to be the fire wall against all things anti-T-Rump. He’d take the heat and vitriol for his esteemed leader because after all, in this day and age, bad news trumped bad like a sputtering volcano. Fortunately there was no lava that could burn through his boss’s orange, armour-like skin. Because his boss was one b-a-a-a-a-d dino.

“Uh, what about me?”

“We’re onto you,” said the Shimonprokupecz. “We know your M.O.”

“Mouth Opening?”

“Modus operandi. Thirty years ago when you were the assistant attorney dino general for the Bushfortyone, he wanted the Manuelnoriega out of the Panamaroot Canal. So you came up with some fancy footwork that allowed the Langleyops to go into a foreign land and take him out. Then when the Kongrus Kave wanted to see your legalese you declined. You finally told them your footprints only dealt with domestic matters, not foreign lands.”

“That’s right.”

“Except we finally found out two years later — after you left — that your words were all about foreign affairs. You lied to the dinos of the Milkanhoney Preservation.”

“Well …”

“I’m not done.”


“There were six dinos, including the Casparweinberger, who were charged with crimes in the Iran-Contra Sandy Feetza scandal. The Bushfortyone had footprints in the sand that could implicate him so you advised him to pardon the six dinos, thereby giving him cover to do so and effectively end the investigation.”

“Hey, who has a question about the Muellersavus report?”

“We haven’t read it, remember?” came a chorus of several Mediacircustops.

“Right. I almost forgot.”

The Williambarr had to think fast. This scrum was blowing up in his face.

“Okay, here’s a teaser on the report. The Huckabeecyclops lied.”

A collective yawn from the crowd.

“No, really. She did.”

“Okay,” said the Shimonprokupecz. “I’ll bite. Could you be more specific?”

“If you insist. Remember when she said the Comeyonus was fired because, let’s see if I can paraphrase here … there were countless members of the Langleyops who had lost faith in the Comenyonus? And then, when you Mediacircustops pressed her to explain to the rank-and-file Langleyops who disagreed with her, she said she’d heard from countless — there’s that word again — Langleyops that said very different things. Well, here’s the shocker. That was all baseless information. Lies. Both lies. Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you go ask her about it?”

The Mediacircustops turned on their heels and stampeded for the Oval Dwelling. The Williambarr wiped his brow. Dodged another one. There was one solace in life. Lava did flow downhill.

Satire The Trump Dig

Mad Max Beyond Mnuchin Home …

There was a tail rapping on the outside of his cave. The Stevenmnuchin rose and slowly plodded his way to the entrance. He gasped as he saw the visiting dinosaur.

It was the Maxinewaters.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m with the Welcome Wagon.” Her beady white eyes drilled a hole dead-center through his walnut-brain. “Aren’t you going to welcome me?” 

“Madam Chair, I’m afraid I really must be going. I have an important matter to attend to.”

“Oh, and what might that be?”

“Something, uh … foreign. And dignified. Well, kind of dignified.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“It’s my wife. We were playing. Patty-cake.”

“Oh. Patty-cake. I understand. We should all be playing more patty-cake. Mr. Secretary, this will only take a minute.”

“I’ve been standing here for 30 seconds. I’d be happy if you could just come back tomorrow and ask me whatever it is you need. I respect you and want to have a good working relationship.”

“Honey? Who is it?” came his wife’s voice from the back of the cave.

“Mad Max– … I mean, the Maxinewaters!” he shouted over his shoulder. He turned to the madam chair with pleading eyes. He nodded back inside the cave.

She returned his nod.

“Alright. I do get it,” she said with a wink. “But I must inform you that I will be paying you a visit tomorrow. And the day after that. At the very least.”

“Madam Chair, I have it right here,” he said pointing to his pointy head. “Every time the Jackaloo or the Welcome Wagon has paid a visit they’ve never stayed more than a minute. I’ve been standing here one minute now. I can’t believe we’re standing here negotiating on when you’re going to come back. When and for how long are you going to come back? I’ll try and accommodate you.”

She stared at him with those porcelain-piercing eyeballs.

“I appreciate that and I appreciate your reminding me of other Welcome Wagon dinos that have darkened your doorway. This is the new way. And it’s a new day and it’s a new chair and I have the gravel at this point.”

She reached down and scooped up a handful of gravel. He cringed and put a hand over his face, certain she was going to fling it at him any second. Instead, she let it fall back between her 80-year-old claws to the ground. Her eyes still penetrated his very being.

“If you wish … to play patty-cake with your wife, you may.”

He stood there rooted to the spot. His runny nose sniffed the air. It must be some kind of trick. Of course. The Donkeykongrus wanted him to look bad. Make him retire into the safety of his own cave. He was having none of it. Still, he was one confused dino.

“Uh, can you clarify that for me?”

“Yes, It’s clarified. If you wish to play patty-cake … you may.”

“Okay, so I’m dismissed. Is that correct?”

“If you wish to go back inside, you may.”

“Honey! Patty-cake, remember?”

He ignored her.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“You’re wasting your time. Don’t you remember? You have a game of foreign, dignified … patty-cake waiting inside.”

He frowned.

“I would just say the previous Kongrus Kave, I mean the Grandoldparty, they didn’t treat the secretary of the treasury this way. So if this is the way you want to treat me, then I’ll rethink whether I voluntarily allow you to come back here … which I’ve offered to do.”

“Uh, Mister Secretary, I want you to know that no other secretary has ever told a Welcome Wagon dino the day before that they were going to limit their time in the way that you’re doing. So if you want to use them as examples, you have acted differently than they have. As I said, if you wish to go play patty-cake, you may.”

The Stevenmnuchin paused, struggling for coherent thought. He finally found words.

“If you’d wish to keep me here so that I can’t play patty-cake and continue to grill me, then we can do that. I will cancel my patty-cake and I will not be back here in front of my cave. I will be very clear, if that’s the way you’d like to have this relationship.”

“Thank you. Well, well. The secretary has agreed to stay to hear my Welcome Wagon news. I’m happy you’re cancelling your patty-cake and respecting my time.”

The Stevenmnuchin searched the landscape beyond the madam chair.

“Okay. so let’s just be clear, in case a Mediacircustops should roam by. I am cancelling my foreign, dignified … my patty-cake. You’re instructing me to stay here and I should cancel my patty-cake.”

“No,” she said. “You just made me an offer.”

“No, I didn’t make you an offer.”

“You made me an offer that I accepted.”

“I did not make you an offer. Just let’s be clear. You’re instructing me, you are ordering me to stay here.”

“Steven!” his wife shouted.

But his focus remained on the madam chair. Her beady eyes bore down on him.

“No, I’m not ordering you. I’m responding. I said you may leave anytime you want. And you said, okay, if that’s what you want to do, I’ll cancel my patty-cake and I’ll stay here. So I’m responding to your request. If that’s what you want to do.”

“That’s not what I want to do. I told you …”

“What would you like to do?”

“Yes, Stephen, his wife called. “What would you like to do?”

He ignored her. This was party politics.

“What I’ve told you is I thought it was respectful that you’d let me play patty-cake.

“You are free to leave any time you want. You may go. Anytime you want.”

“Please dismiss me. I believe you’re supposed to take the gravel and throw it. Away from me. And say, Welcome.”

“Please do not instruct me as to how I am to conduct this Welcome Wagon. Now then. I have a large family of migrating Latinonachos moving in next door.”


“Did you forget? This is a sanctuary region. The T-Rump said to send all the migrating Latinonachos …”

“Yes, yes. To sanctuaries.”

“They literally have nothing.” She peered over his shoulder. “Are those moolah-moolah leaves covering every square inch of your cave walls?”

“Yes. My signature footprint. Ahem … on every one.

“Mister Secretary, this migrating family next door. Could you throw them a bone? Please?”

Those eyes again. Those damnable eyes. He steadied himself.

“A bone?”

One bone.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

The Maxinewaters turned on her heels.

“Tomorrow, patty-cake.”


Satire The Trump Dig

The Lowering of the Williambarr …

Several burly Constablebobbies from the Piccadilly Circle dragged the Julianassange out of his Ecuadorian-by-the-Sea cave. The main keeper of the Wikileakibeak had been holed up there for seven long years and was not going quietly.

“Get your paws off me! Do you know who I am? My real name is Herman. I’m with the Hermits. I think I’m into something good here! Really!”

He dug his heels harder into the ground.

“That poop on the wall? It’s my cat. He’s a monster!”

More struggling as they dragged him away.

“Next you’re going to tell me it’s a Russodino-Wikilealibeak-T-Rump conspiracy. Oops. Did I just say that out loud?”

Meanwhile, several dino treks and a short-haul Trollertweety flight away, the Tyrumposaurus and his sneering sycophant, the Stephenmillerus, sat with the T-Rump’s latest confirmed yes-dino, the Williambarr. The Stephenmillerus nodded to the attorney dino general.

“He’s paying big dividends, isn’t he, boss?”

“You bet,” said the T-Rump, clapping tails with the Williambarr. “I never read your 19 footprints in the sand audition, but thank goodness Stephen here did. I, uh … also didn’t read your four-footprint summary-non-summary, but again it was Stephen to the rescue. So happy you could save the day.”

“Why, thank you,” said the smug Stephenmillerus.

“Not you, I was talking to Bill.”


The Stephenmillerus extended his jaw out a foot, then retracted it. It was a nervous tick that appeared whenever he was even mildly embarrassed. A reflex instinct the T-Rump never failed to mock.

“Lockjaw would be sad. Better for you to stay unhinged.” He grinned at his joke and turned to his attorney general. “Bill, we’re getting great Mediacircustop play … I love shouting ‘total exoneration!’ from the hilltops. And then your redactions. Don’t forget all those different kinds of redactions.”

“Do you think four is enough? I can think of some more …”

“Why not?” said the Stephenmillerus. “You’re one of us now. Doing things on the fly. Like when they asked if you let any dino see the Muellersavus report. Your saying nothing said everything! They know you work for us. The top legal dino in the land. Can it get any better? And then it did!”

“Spying,” said the T-Rump. “Saying the Langleyops were spying. That was the best!”

The Stephenmillerus rubbed his hands together.

“The Nancypelosi said you’re going off the trails! Onward and downward! We’re taking down dino institutions!”

“Please, Stephen,” said the T-Rump, “I have dinos wanting to me put away. Bill, I want you to go after the Langleyops dinos who began this whole hoax. You can cut through their Crapanbullasaurus party line of ‘been there, done that’ excuses. I know you’ll do your best to stall and delay.”

More hand rubbing and a sneer from the Stephenmillerus.

“Driving the Donkeykongrus and the Mediacircustops crazy and diverting their attention from the other two dozen investigations. Genius.”

“I’m here to serve you,” the Williambarr said, kneeling to lick the T-Rump’s scaly orange feet.

“Excuse me, T-Rump?”

“What is it, Huckabee? Can’t you see I’m having my feet licked?”

“We’ve just received word that the Jullianassange of Wikileakibeak fame will be coming to the Milkanhoney Preservation.”

“Wikileakibeak? I love the Wikileakibeak! Saved our bacon during the battle. I thanked them 147 times and I’d thank them a thousand times more.

“They’ve been indicted.”

“Never heard of’em.”

“I also bring news about that Hobnoblobby dino, the Gregcraig? He’s been indicted for lying about hobnobbing and being paid 4 million moolah-moolah leaves.”

“Hobnobbing for 4 million. Right. I respect a good Hobnoblobby dino. This just goes to show the Muellersavus and his 13 angry Donkeykongrus dinos cracking down again on us poor, defenseless dinos. They’re relentless. Sad. Very sad. The Gregcraig is a great dino who I’m proud to know. He can hobnob with me anytime. For 4 million. Why, I’d even take him home to meet my sister.”

“He’s a Donkeykongrus, T-Rump.”

“He’s a treasonous traitor!”

“Um … speaking of your sister …”

“Yes, my nearest and dearest. A fine woman. A judge even. Though you’d never know it to look at me. She’s as honest as the day is long and just told me yesterday she’d like to stay as a judge for another 10 years.”

“She just resigned to avoid a mytaxes returnus fraud investigation.”

“Oh no, I don’t have any sister.”

The T-Rump turned to the Williambarr.

“How low can you go, Bill?”

“Well, I’ll have to find a sister before I can get rid of her. Hmm. I guess I could do that.”

Sure you can, Bill. Whatever I need. Or I don’t know you. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?