An historic day has come and gone, marked by the secret rendezvous between Trump and Kim Jong Un who met on the down low at the DMZ because neither wanted publicity in case their encounter went sideways. Cameras were forbidden. However, thanks to an inquiring mind, we now have a transcript from a reporter who risked life and many limbs to get the scoop.
In early April, Kim and The Donald and their entourages met in Panmunjon, the site of the Armistice signing in 1953. The DMZ, often considered the most dangerous piece of land on the planet, is located at the 38th parallel on a strip of land four miles wide and 160 miles across, separating North and South Korea.
The meeting took place in the MAC (Military Armistice Commission) conference room inside a low-slung blue building which straddles the exact line between South and North Korea. The long conference table itself also straddles the demarcated line between North and South.
Trump, Pompeo, Bolton and staff sat on the South Korean side of the table, with Kim and his minions facing them on North Korean soil, not three feet away. The tables and chairs were plain, but serviceable.
On the way in, Trump had been overheard saying, “Man, this is a dump. I could build such a hotel here, jazz it up, you know, maybe that would speed up the peace process. Everything here is so grim. North Korea is truly a shi*thole country. Nobody smiles. No wonder they’re not afraid to send missiles our way, they’ve got nothing to lose. Why not let us just blow it up and put an end to their misery!” Pompeo shuddered; Bolton smiled.
After introductions were made, Mr. Trump leaned in to the microphone. Translators sat at each end of the table, earphones strapped to their heads.
President Trump, elbows resting on the table: “Good afternoon, Mr. Kim. It is great to finally meet the Little Rocket Man bastard!”
Trump Translator: Good Afternoon, dear and Great Leader. I applaud your courage in extending your hospitality to the President of the United States.
Leader Kim, crossing his arms over his abundant belly: “You’re entirely welcome, you fat American prick with the Cheeto hair.”
Kim Translator: We’re happy to have you here in our great country. Thank you very much for coming. Let us hope our talks are productive for both our countries.
Trump, waving his arms as if conducting Beethoven’s 9th: “Well, I suppose we should get right down to it. What’s up with the nukes? No nukes, you can’t have nukes. We can have them, you can’t, capisce?” Pompeo reached for the water pitcher. Bolton smiled.
Trump Translator: We understand you feel a need to have nuclear missiles to defend yourself. We’d like to assure you we have no intention of bombing your country.
Kim, squinting hard at his nemesis: “Good, good! We were afraid you American bullies would invade our great sovereign nation, and we wanted you to know we’ll blow you to kingdom come if you should even think about it. We’ll begin first with your beloved Mar-a-Lago.” Bolton’s eyes flickered as he stroked his mustache.
Kim Translator: As you are the great leader of the greatest nation on earth, surely you understand our need to protect our people from all threats.
Trump, smirking: “Sure, you little pipsqueak, you’re no threat to us. We can incinerate you in an afternoon, you little twit. I’ll do it, I really will if you keep pissing me off!”
Trump Translator: We’re here today to talk about all aspects of American and North Korean relations. We recognize that it’s in the interests of all our people to de-escalate tensions between our two great nations.
Kim, scowling, “What a dotard! There he sits, the great fat ugly Satan, trying to tell us what to do. I think not, you slimy American slug!”
Kim Translator: There might be a possibility of our holding steady our stockpile in exchange for your removing sanctions against our people.
Trump: Over my dead body. It’s my way or the highway, sucker.”
Trump Translator: We might be able to consider that.
Kim: “Good, good. Now, let us take a break to dine with our most esteemed chef in the Pavilion next door. He will be serving our famous Korean delicacies: silkworm larvae, duck tongues and roasted crickets. See what a tough guy you are, you spoiled western pig.”
Kim Translator: We’d like to offer you and your people a sumptuous meal, Mr. President, something you will remember for the rest of your life.
Shortly after dinner, Trump was found in the bathroom, doubled over in pain, hollering, “He poisoned me, he poisoned me!” Trump thrashed and screamed as he was rushed to a private hospital in Seoul where restraints had to be applied to the Leader of the Free World. Foam drizzled from his mouth as he raged, “I’m going to nuke that crazy little bastard. That’ll teach him! Pompeo! Bolton! Get me the nuclear football!”
Bolton rushed off to retrieve it, but Pompeo body-slammed him before he reached the door.
“Are you daft, man?” Pompeo screamed. “We’re still in Korea!”
Bolton stood up, dazed, brushed off his suit. “Oh, damn.”
At a press conference the following day, Cecilia Vega of ABC asked Sarah Sanders Huckabee why the president hadn’t tweeted in three days.
“His doctor told him his thumbs needed a rest,” she said and rushed off the podium.
Rosie Sorenson is a humor writer in the San Francisco Bay Area. You can contact her at: RosieSorenson29@yahoo.com
From The Progressive Populist, May 1, 2018
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