Kim Jong-un’s surviving top advisors are uncertain what to report to the nation – and the world – regarding their great and fearless Supreme Leader. International speculation abounds following Kim’s absence from North Korea’s most important yearly public gathering, the “Day of the Sun” holiday celebrating the birth of his grandfather and the Hermit Kingdom’s founder, Kim Il-sung.
As all those advisors who’d been perhaps most intellectually capable had fallen fatally out of the youngest Kim’s favour over the years, the remaining few who actually run the nation are primarily just sycophant followers and other obsequious hangers-on, as long as they meet the key requirement of being shorter than Kim’s own 5-foot-6. And also, of course, in the tradition of many of the world’s finest dictators through history, a few of his illegitimate sons.
The following is a transcript of this august group’s last meeting.
Dim Advisor #1: We should just tell the “truth”, that our Supreme Leader was murdered by the evil Americans via sexy female agents who infiltrated his sacred bedroom, only to poison him in his sleep via Coronavirus-infused darts.
Illegitimate Son #1 (playing with Lego): Are we done yet? This is SO boring!
Illegitimate Son #2 (eating Play-Doh): mmm-phh.
Dim Advisor #2: I’m not convinced he isn’t actually in hiding from that wretched, murderous, American-made virus.
Dim Advisor #3: But our truthful and correct media has assured us he is alive and well at his retreat; and reminded us that of course our Supreme Leader does not ever require medical care of any kind to improve his already perfect body, that mirrors his perfect soul.
Dim Advisor #1: We discussed last week how we must tell the media to stress that last point – to delay as long as possible telling the actual truth.
Dim Advisor #2: Oh? I don’t remember any of that. Was I daydreaming? Oh yes, oh yes…
So what really happened?
Excited about the holiday, Kim planned to warm up for it by spending a week at his coastal retreat indulging himself. However, after eating one apple, two pears, three plums, four strawberries, five oranges, and a gallon of clarified whale blubber (for virility), Kim Jong-un had a stomach ache.
He wrapped himself tightly in a blanket, went to bed, and fell asleep – for two weeks!
He then emerged as a giant, beautiful butterfly. He flew back to Pyongyang, alighting on his grandfather’s shoulder to take one last look at a few of his assembled peons and to give them a final opportunity to bow before him.
Then he flew up high and away, never to be seen again. Or to go and solve all the world’s problems. Or something.
