ACT I. SCENE I.
In a concealed cave, a clandestine meeting between the Seanhannity and the Manaforta.
My dear Manaforta, can we talk? How you? How you do do?
Not free, Hannity, as you. Feel free any time, now and ever, to call me. Forever.
Please know, thou art maven taking haven in my prayers.
Thank you. I need them. I beg thee. Pile pity to my pits. I feel so violated. It’s the …
Yes! Rhymes of crimes hated. And NOT being investigated?
Clear felonies! Conflicted interests! Who seeks? How doth Potus host thy leaks?
The future of our great dino nation is thy conversation to straighten.
Grace and peace is yet gray piece of this moment difficult.
Sadly, tis when friends abandon. As in apostles pulled?
If you wish to talk, to vent, to strategize, I am here. But we wise.
For while this is so very hard, stand tall and strong to fight the fight.
Whilst I remain at your knee, if you can watch tonight.
I appreciate what you try to do or try to be,
All dinos but I, in your every conspiracy theory.
The Muellersavus vies, he tries to intimidate me.
The morning raid still blinds. Cannot your eyes see?
No need to heed. I won’t let him succeed!
Leaving me the loneliest of lonely, fighting this fight.
Alone! So alone! But for you and a few others.
Our side must engage if we’re to beat these mothers!
Call me once, twice, thrice. And thrice again twice more.
Let’s eat, talk and anything I can do to help.
Far be I from some Mediacircustops whelp!
Your sorrow deep keeps me, weeps me to sleep.
T-Y. Two letters to thank you.
Your call of yesterday fairly tackled my torment.
Get me started, for I readily foment.
The Crookadillary doth make me pace!
Such irrational national disgrace!
Always here, my Manaforta. Always here.
I know. Thy south mouth protects my back.
Hail me not some fair weather dino.
I know. WE know.
The Mediacircustops, their ruthless lies and untruths
Itching to split me from family T-Rump — before my very own.
Yon game of dirt begets dirty game.
Yup. My apt response as I see all, know all. Your call.
The Dowderpuff huffed and puffed away,
Berating raid of Muellersavus today.
New legal dinos I have. Junkyard Doggydogs they be.
Undoing this injustice. Tis painful, costly fight for me.
Tis daunting. This Mediacircustops false coverage. So negative!
Down to my last brownstone. I’ve nothing to give!
Forget thy pity. Forgive my pout.
But I won’t give up. I won’t sell out.
And I, your fly in ointment, pointing to the flaw:
WE DO NOT HAVE EQUAL JUSTICE UNDER THE LAW.
I shall preach continued fact in every dino’s face
One justice system plus two tiers equals a disgrace!
The next night. Same dinos. Same cave. Second clandestine meeting.
So did thou see last night? Yes, I trolled all.
I said the Manaforta made a mistake. The gall!
He wasn’t the Crookadillary, nor the Ericholder,
Nor the Lorettalynch, her bad acts bolder.
Release the Manaforta, he did NOT destroy it all.
To be so clever. Such endeavor.
The Jeaninepirro’s swing was the Geraldo’s miss.
I long the day they climb atop this.
The Jeaninepirro, smart and in the know,
Schooled me to have schools of legal dinos
For each morn dawns my waking dread
More bull for breakfast and a bulls-eye for my head
My dear Manaforta, like you I too
Put dino nation before my creation,
This amazing Milkanhoney Preservation,
S-o-o-o-o-o off course, such devastation!
If the Donkeykongrus win, so be it, my thoughts.
I’m fighting like you, for our dinos and their tots.
The dino noblesse think T-Rump a mess
His death their success to one day confess
For to fill their bill, I’m mere roadkill
Tis Jared and family that whets their will
Never enough! Farewell Moscovian Bluffs!
Too much info doth forsake my clap trap!
That I would repeat, my face yours to slap.
Thus I have my main mantra, my fickle fave five.
These I focus upon to keep ratings alive:
Deep state, Donkeykongrus, Mediacircustops too
Our weak, our pathetic, never-T-Rumpers. Taboo!
Then Flynnhasbeen. A horrible, ILLEGAL arrest.
General. Thanks for giving your best?
He too, destroyed as background to their voices.
“Incompetence!” they shout at T-Rump’s choices.
Alas and alack, a Potus fan is roadkill
Might Potus find that as only ill will?
I tell him a lot. A real lotta lot lot there.
Our relationship, brutal, honest, all out on the air
Should victory find the left, hence me on the shelf
Where with Dixie’s two cups, I’ll talk to myself.
Your attitude keeps you free. Unlike I. Woe is me.