[In a flurry of obeisant response, Kim Jong Un enters a guided ballistic missile complex just outside Pyongyang City. In white-glove inspection mode, the “Great Leader” directs his conversation to any number of identical and appropriately terrified listeners.]
KIM: I find this incomprehensible; are you all a mere pack of incompetent boobs?! Just how much embarrassment do you expect me to withstand? I will not bear it alone, you know. If I am to be humiliated, others will share my shame.
Among the last four missiles launched from this godforsaken facility, only one can be considered even a half-ass success. At that rate, how on earth can I be expected to destroy the armada that Yankee Pig is sending here? I promised, I promised – and you incompetent bastards have left me vulnerable! I cannot live like this – you have no right, none at all.
LISTTNERS: (Thinking-) Yes, we know.
KIM: What gives with those arrogant Americans, anyhow? They have no consideration. They seem to think they can disrespect us – meaning, “me” – ad libitum. Did you hear what that grizzled old senator said about me? (Of course not; how could you?) Well, it wasn’t nice. If he were here... In a twisted sort of way, the disrespect shown to the publicly esteemed SOB by the president is kinda payback for me. Did they elect that bastard Trump because we have similar qualities? – in temperament, I mean. He doesn’t need lifts; but we both use hairstylists with a sense of humor.
LISTENERS: (thinking) Oh, that’s what “truth” is...or is it just, “venting”?
KIM: What is this, “Jighnna” shit – and, “Chairman Shi and I are such good buddies,” and all that? In the first place, it’s, “China” – and I like a good chocolate cake, too! What’s the matter; ain’t I good enough for Mar-a-Lago? I would go, too, if he were crazy enough to invite me – wait a minute – that’s the problem; you don’t know what to expect from that guy. I go through those gates, be charmed to death, and where the hell is my reputation? With Dennis Rodman, it’s different. At least we have something in common. But what on earth could I have in common with that self-important, power-possessed, social and political libertine?
Listeners: (too dangerous even to think) [crickets]
KIM: Now, back to these shameful missile failures of yours. From the pre-launch rundowns I’ve been given, you all are in agreement on all systems. That would appear to eliminate mechanical error. And, since you all run on basically the same DNA, it would appear to eliminate human error, as well. Wait a minute...you don’t think...no-o-o! They could not have compromised our systems, could they? Has anybody looked into that possibility? What the hell, none of you would admit it, anyway. Who the hell in his right mind would be asking to be put in front of a wall and be blown to pieces by anti-aircraft artillery guns? Guess I’ll just have to rely on the official reports.
Well, you’re not gonna leave a fella strung out here, with no satisfaction? Roll ’em out!
(A huge video screen is set up. When turned on, it shows a series of staged battle scenes. Missile strikes take out a U.S. aircraft carrier and cause the nuclear decimation of several U.S. cities.)
KIM: Atta boy! Go get ‘em! That’s the way! Blow ‘em outta the water! Bye-bye, San Francisco, Washington, D.C., New York! Ness with the Kimster, will ya?!...
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