A VULGAR DISPLAY OF POWER
High above the world, Kim Jong Un gets his hair cut by his mother. She’s just finished trimming the sides. “I would like some milk, Mommy.” She unsnaps her top and inserts her dark nipple into his eager mouth. He suckles deeply, allowing the white gold to drizzle down his gullet. “Thank you, Mommy. So sweet.”
“Nobody laughs at my little Rocket Man, do they, Kimmy?”
He pulls his mouth off her teet with an audible pop and swallows deeply. The warmth of mother’s milk swells in his tummy.
“No, Mommy.” Her breast sprays him in the face and her milk gets in his eye. He grows irritable, jumps off her lap and scowls
“Don’t be mad, Kimmy.”
He liked it when she spoke to him this way. She didn’t want him to be mad. He could control her when she was like this. Like most women, she was soft-minded.
“Kimmy, please. Is there anything I can do?”
Instead of answering, he just stands up and exits the room.
Walking down the hall he passes a great number of guards that he’s commanded to be physically shorter than he is. Because he really liked Gi, a soldier with a soft mind and a hard body, he elected to pay for him to have his legs surgically shortened. Good help is hard to find and he liked to take care of his people.
Kim enters the deck and gazes out at space. There she is. Earth. Way down there. Trump thinks Kim is building a nuclear weapon to blow up Washington. Think again. He’s building a bomb nicknamed Power House that will annihilate the entire planet. He and his crew have enough food and water on board to last them 100 years, long enough for Kim and his mama to live and die. What happens after that to his crew is of no concern to him. Everyday he wakes up and laughs selfishly, soaking his mega-ego in the fact that he would be the person to single-handedly destroy the greatest organism in our recorded history. He would not control humanity. He would utterly conquer it. He would enslave it. He would destroy it. And then he would finally be able to live fully without consequence. To be free.
Kim turns to some guy sitting in a chair. “Status Update.”
The guy in the chair responds. He doesn’t think Kim knows his name. He likes it that way. Eyes down. “Power House ready to fire, sir. Pale Blue Dot prepped for annihilation.”
This poor man did not want to destroy Earth. But neither did he want to be on Earth when it was destroyed. But what could he do now? He had often times dreamt of leading a revolution against Kim – he hated Kim’s oppressive gut – but he just didn’t think he had it in him.
In the end, he was absolutely right.
“Where is the dotard?”
“White House. Oval Office. There’s been some kind of local disruption.”
Kim stares blankly at space, expecting more. The Nameless Man continues, unsure if he’s supposed to our not. “A… fire. In the White House. People in and out.”
Kim rubs his chin and finds a dried Ramen noodle in one of his face-rolls. He picks it out and eats it, crunching it between a collection of unbrushed, tombstone shaped teeth.
“No person has ever nor shall ever again commit an act of such great atrocity as we are about to see on this day. My name shall be memorialized amongst the stars. Initiate Launch.”
“Copy. Initiating sequence.”
The Nameless Man punches a code into his keyboard and begins the complicated engagement process of launching a planet-ending weapon. At this distance it would take some time for the destructive seed to meet it and annihilate it’s womb. But Kim was patient. And he had nowhere to be.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
He heads back to his quarters to listen to his mom read Oh, the Places You’ll Go by Dr. Seuss. His fat little feet shuffle a little faster as his mouth begins to water for dairy.