Dongfall


Kim Dong Il has put his youngest son in charge of his country’s spy agency. An unusually rash decision for the crafty little midget. His older sons are bound to feel resentful and are probably hatching a plot against the Dear Daddy as I write. My guess is they’ll go for the scorpion in the long johns. Humans have always used animals as assassins to cover their traces. One sting on the scrotum and Dongy’s chestnuts will be toast. A small target, admittedly, but scorpions can always sense the most vulnerable organ.

Anyone who’s watched Team America knows that Dongy is not a happy man. Living in North Korea probably has a lot to do with it. The clothes are drab and itchy, the nightlife is non-existent and the television is absolute crap. The boredom must be unbearable for a pint-sized despot with loads of cash and nothing to spend it on. Nor can he enjoy his position at the top, surrounded as he is by toadies, flunkies and assorted aunties. This is what happens when a man is forced to follow in his father’s footsteps rather than pursue his career of choice. A chubby-cheeked homunculus like Dongy would have been a natural clown, and it’s obvious from his antics that he wanted to be one.


Speaking of clowns, I recently received an email from
Roly Bain, the Anglican priest who made a name for himself by acting the goat. I met Roly a long time ago after he watched my circus act. On seeing his funny little face, I immediately suggested he go to clown school, and he took my advice to heart. Every year I get a message from Roly asking me to visit him in England:

“Dearest GB,” he wrote, “I am the most successful comedy vicar in the world and I owe it all to you. How about doing a double act with me for the summer season?”


He’s a grateful little tyke as you can see. I should imagine he’d be even more grateful if I gave him a sound thrashing in front of his congregation. But I can’t fly across the globe every time a clown longs to feel my foot on his arse. Roly will have to make use of whatever local talent there is in England. Mick Jagger seems to have the lithe body movements required to perform with a clown. I’m sure he’d agree to take the stage with Roly for a share of the box office and a bottle of anti-wrinkle cream
.

None of this clowning about will do anything about the political crisis in North Korea, of course. The recent nuclear explosions there are the sign of an internal power struggle. Intelligence sources indicate that the last one went off in an adventure playground, depriving the Dear Leader of his favourite recreation facility. There are obviously sinister forces at work trying to destabilise the regime by turning Dongy into a frustrated little imp. If I were President Obama, I’d send him some toys to play with pretty damn quick before he starts firing his rockets at San Francisco. The mark of a statesman is the ability to nip problems in the bud before they bite you in the arse.


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