The Dotard and the Rocket Man

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Unbeknownst to the world at large, Donald T and Kim J-un have already met privately. Security was extreme, but IA was there to document it as it happened.

TRUMP: Kim. I was having a lend of you when I called you "Rocket Man".

JONG-UN: No worries, Donald. Actually, it’s my favourite song. I love Elton John so much I have some of his old glasses — the ones he wore on stage. And some of his wigs.

TRUMP: Really?! I wouldn’t mind checking out some of his wigs. Hair is the main reason I wanted to meet you.

JONG-UN: Hair?! Really?

TRUMP: Let’s face it, Kim. You and I have a lot in common.

JONG-UN: Really?

TRUMP: Think about it. We both come from nations that have had civil wars and we are both aligned to the north (despite my Florida properties). Mind you, I would happily re-introduce slavery if I could.

JONG-UN: I’ve heard you already have.

TRUMP: I admit our minimum wage is fucking really low, but it is still a wage. I don’t follow you.

JONG-UN: I’ll explain. Oh, and by the way, I didn’t mean it when I called you a "dotard". I’m big on alliteration. "Donald The Dotard". Rolls off the tongue. Don’t worry, I’ll refer to you as "Donald The Delightful" from now on.

TRUMP: No problem. I didn’t know what it meant. I got the FBI to investigate its meaning for me — and I don’t trust any of those fuckers anyway.

JONG-UN: I know what you mean. Back to your slavery. I’ve heard you had lots of people do things for your construction company and when they’d completed their work, you either told them it was shit and you weren’t going to pay them or had yourself declared bankrupt so you didn’t have to pay them.

TRUMP: I hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Kim, I like you. You are a very good person. You’ve given me a great idea.

I’ll get the Treasury to declare America bankrupt and I’ll tell our international creditors to fuck themselves. I’ll even tell the Krauts, Frogs and Pommies to help bail us out like they’ve been doing for the Greeks. Kim, you’re a genius. I’ll be declared the greatest American President ever. I made America great again by having it declared bankrupt.

JONG-UN: Genius! Me! That’s very kind of you, Donald.

TRUMP: In fact, while I’m at it, do you want me to declare you guys bankrupt too? I’ll knuckle the IMF to bail you out of the financial shithole you’re trapped in.

JONG-UN: Why not?

TRUMP: Back to you and me. We’re both regarded as being erratic, unpredictable, eccentric and narcissistic.

JONG-UN: S'pose so.

TRUMP: We both have lots of enemies out to get us. We would both be fucked over by #metoo if we weren’t so powerful. Speaking of that, your sister isn’t a bad looker. I wouldn’t mind giving her one. Things aren’t good between Melania and me. Truth is, she hasn’t let me root her since I’ve been President. Any chance of getting your sister’s number?

JONG-UN: I’ll ask her.

TRUMP: We both love our food, and need to jog our burgers off more frequently than we do. But most importantly, we have the two most famous hair-dos in the world.

JONG-UN: Now you mention it, I see your point.

TRUMP: I’ll be upfront with you, Kim. No games. No bullshit. I need your help.

JONG-UN: Fire away, Donald.

TRUMP: I will — but remember, you can’t fire away. It’s about my hair. I need your help. Think about it, Kim. Your half-brother: cactus. Heaps of your political enemies: carked it. Your uncle’s entire family: fucked. Ambassadors, military heavyweights, female musicians: all mysteriously disappeared — never heard of again.

JONG-UN: There are rumours ... and, I suppose, where there’s smoke, there’s fire. But what’s any of this got to do with hair?

TRUMP: Like I said, we’re famous for our hair. I’ll be honest because you are a good man. I’ve got a fucking helipad on the top of my head. I had to find a haircutter who could construct a comb-over to hide it. I found one but when I found out he was a Democrat, well, err, he had a little accident.

JONG-UN: A little accident. Yes. I understand.

TRUMP: I need a barber. I need someone who can make sure it will stay in place no matter how windy it gets. I haven’t found anyone yet.

JONG-UN: I don’t see how I can help.

TRUMP: Easy. I figure with all the people you’ve had eliminated – and despite the look of your hair – your barber is still alive. That says to me he must be pretty fucking good. Here’s the deal. Let me take him back to America with me and all economic sanctions disappear. Deal or no deal?

JONG-UN: Deal.

TRUMP: Great. You’ve done it again, Kim. You are a fucking genius. I was fucked to know what to do after my current gig finishes. I prefer being a TV show host over what I’m doing now. That’s it. I’ll host a new series of Deal or No Deal.

Rocky Dabscheck is a musician/songwriter and front person for Rocky and The Two Bob Millionaires. He is also the author of Stoney Broke and the Hi-Spenders.

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