Dubya Does North Korea

Scene:  Kim Jong un’s dining room in his palace in Pyongyang, North Korea.  Kim sits with George W. Bush and their respective interpreters.  Kim has a mug of beer, while “Dubya” drinks club soda.  The interpreters each drink red wine.  The food has yet to arrive.

Bush

Kim Jong-young, it’s honorific to meet you at last.  Thanks for letting me crash at your fabulous palace.

Kim

As Hamlet would say, you are welcome in Elsinore.  State your purpose.

Bush

Predator Obama has sent me here as his missionary to try to talk some cents into you.

Kim

What happened to his usual emissary, former president Clinton?  Or that man’s lovely wife Hildegarde?

Bush

Cousin Bill-Jeff couldn’t make it as he had a rendezvous with Monocle Lewinsky–Montague?  Monopoly?–anyway, whatever the gal’s name is.

Kim

What about the other living Democratic ex-president?

Bush

Jimmy Carson?  He’s preocupado helping some mejicanos build a Taco Bell in Tierra del Mundo.

Kim

That’s too bad.  He seems like a man of reason.

Bush

Besides, Carcass’s rates aren’t cheap.  He don’t work for peanuts no more.

Kim

I see.  So why are you here, Little Bush?

Bush

Heh-heh.  I like your sense of humans.  Well, Lil’ Kim, Obomber thought that as a fellow ladies’ man and a guy who was the hair to the throne himself, you and I might be able to see eye to eye on a couple things.  And since you, like me, are the by-product of a great die-nasty, we can emphasize with each other.

Kim

Ah yes, your father was also a president.  As I recall, he’s still alive, no?

Bush

Uh-huh.  Last time I checked, anyways.  That old boy’s still kicking, but if he ever tries to kick my mama, I’ll kick his ass.

Kim

Please give him my regards.

Bush

I’m afraid he wouldn’t know you from a busted bicycle pump.  He thinks the remote for the TV is the detonator for a nuclear device.

Kim

Sounds like my kind of retired leader.

Bush

He’s a little old-fashioned though.  Anti-nuclear and all that.  It’s that damned Kissinger’s influence, I’m afraid, Mr. “I Want to Reverse My Genocidal Legacy Before It’s Too Late.”  He and Mickey L. Gorbachev have been putting some crazy ideas into Poppy’s head.

Kim

Or maybe it’s just your father’s version of enlightened self-interest.  Perhaps he thinks if your country takes the first step towards nuclear disarmament, the rest of the world will follow suit.

Bush

Well, pardon my French, Kimbucktoo, but that’s naiver than hell.  If America got rid of our nukes, we’d be vulnerabler than a naked supermodel at a boy scouts’ convention.

Kim

Ah, so perhaps you can see why we North Koreans too would like to hang onto our nuclear life insurance policy.

Bush

Excusing my pardon, Dr. Kim, but two longs don’t make a light.  Now, Iraq Obama telled me that lately you’ve been uncoopericative.  He saids you’ve threatened to destructify Seoul, you’re unwiling to talk shop with Washingtub, and you’ve even had the cojones to hold a couple of Chinese sailors hostile.  That ain’t a very goodly way to treat your sole ally in the hole world.  Asides, newkiller blackmail can only get you so far afore someone gets hurt, and it ain’t gonna be me.

Kim

Let’s just say I have my reasons.  Since I’m young and green–but not in the geeky, crunchy way you Yankees use that term–I need to get my people to believe in me.  Being the toughest kid on the block is a good way to do it.

Bush

Heck, those dumb motherfuckers is already so brainwatched, I’d be surpriseder than shit if they duddn’t believe in you already.  And Kimbo, don’t you realize you’re playing with firecrackers?  You seem like a nice enough feller.  Lose a couple hundred pounds and you might even get yourself a sweet-ass girlfriend to blow you to sleep at night.  I just don’t want to see you get hurt.

Kim

As far as I’m concerned, the Chinese president can go eat a live monkey’s brain.  He doesn’t care about my country anyway.  My father taught me that.

Bush

I still think if you want to get by, you’ve got to play ball, ‘stead of just playing with your balls.

Kim

We’ll resume this discussion after dinner.

Bush

Okeedorky.  What’s on the menu?  

Kim

Fried peasant.

Bush

Oh, my God!  You’re not a nice fellow at all.  You’re an evil man!

Kim

It takes one to know one.

Bush

Well, you can count me out.  I’m not going to partake.  Unlike you, I have a moral.  Besides, I’m on a diet.

Kim

Suit yourself, unprepossessing corporate lackey and puppet of the cancerous empire.

Bush

Hey, watch what you say about the Texas Rangers, or I’ll have one of my co-operatives send you to Guantanamera.

(The food arrives.  Dubya leaves in a huff, his Secret Service retinue in tow.  Kim shakes his head.)

Kim

Don’t let the guillotine behead you on your way out.  As you once said, “No one likes beheadings.”  (Tucking his napkin into his collar) Now I can have this fried citizen all to myself!  Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

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