Korea Change

I was deeply saddened and shocked to hear of the death of my old friend, the Supreme Leader of North Korea. I had no idea that Kim Jong was so, er, ill.

Mind you, I’m not convinced by those videos of his loyal subjects weeping and gnashing their teeth at the news of his sudden demise. I’d put good money on the fact that those poor sods are just crying because all they’ve had to eat since he came to power are a few mouldy turnip husks and the dry shin bone of someone else’s child.

Kim Yum Yum

I understand that his successor is to be his son, who I think is called Kim Young ‘Un which sounds like it should translate as Little Kim. Looking at the emerging photos of the heir, I suspect he’s been dealing with the harsh legacy of having grown up with a girl’s name by eating most of the food that’s been denied to the rest of the populace for the last 20 years.

It seems that his official name is to be: The Great Successor. I would tactfully suggest that, in the light of this recent photographic evidence, the title Fat Controller would probably be more appropriate.

While he continues in his father’s philanthropic mission of selfless leadership, and the halls of his palace echo to the moving refrain of his country's new national anthem: “Who ate all the pies”, he can get on with the really important North Korean tradition of winding up whichever semi-detached and free spending loon happens to be President of the United States.

Kim The Elder managed to do this very effectively for years by conning Uncle Sam into believing that this shining, communist utopia, a country that makes Haiti look like a technological investment opportunity, actually has nuclear weapons. Of course, the closest thing in North Korea to a nuke is a half empty box of matches that fell out of a BBC journalist’s pocket back in 1984. My spies tell me that in 2006, one of Kim’s top physicists finally figured out how to strike one, and was so stunned by the miracle of this advanced fire-making technology that he managed to drop the burning end back into the box, setting off the whole ruddy lot in one go.

Inadvertently “doing a genie” in a land which, thanks to Kim Jong-Il’s visionary economic leadership is nearly as dark from space as France, created a flash of light clearly visible to the American military satellites that hover permanently over North Korea in case its fearsome, million strong standing army starts trying to eat the barbed wire that marks the edge of the demilitarised zone. It was this mini mushroom cloud that fooled the dolts at the Pentagon into believing that KJI had the A-bomb, when in fact, all he had was a chief scientist with no eyebrows.

Should've gone to Specsavers

The ill One has been suckering the yanks out of millions of dollars worth of aid ever since, even though all he ever had to show for these vast injections of cash was a gigantic pair of horribly unfashionable glasses. I understand that this is to be the inspiration behind a new Specsavers ad due to run in the new year.

But still, even if Fat Boy Kim doesn’t turn out to be as good at plutonium poker as his old man, I’m sure that he’ll be able to rely on China to keep him supplied with those live frogs that he likes to dip into his martinis.

Oh no, sorry, that’s Jabba the Hut.