SCENE: PRESIDENTIAL PALACE, PYONGYANG.
KIM JONG-IL IS SLUMPED IN A CHAIR, A BLANKET OVER HIS KNESS. AN AIDE IS LEANING OVER HIM.
AIDE
Dear Leader, the capitalist running dog press are continuing to spread lies that you are unwell.
KIM
Ga.
AIDE
But, O Eternal President, the imperialist lackeys of the Western media have seen through our skillfully faked photographs in which we superimposed a shrivelled satsuma onto the body of Jimmy Krankie.
KIM
Ga.
AIDE
What are we to do, O Supreme Ruler of the Infinitiverse? How are we to continue the glorious struggle against the gullible traitors in the unaccountably much wealthier and inexplicably more cheerful Republic of South Korea?
KIM
Ga.
KIM SLUMPS UNCONSCIOUS. THE AIDE TENTATIVELY TAKES HIS PULSE. TWO MORE AIDES ENTER WEARING PARTY HATS AND CARRYING CHAMPAGNE BOTTLES. THEY LOOK EXPECTANT.
THE FIRST AIDE SHOOS THEM BACK.
KIM
Ga.
THE AIDE LEANS CLOSER.
AIDE
You want what? The nuclear button?
THE OTHER TWO AIDES CLUTCH ONE ANOTHER IN HORROR.
KIM
Ga.
AIDE
Oh, a new clean bedpan! I'll fetch it for you.
THE AIDE GOES TO LEAVE.
KIM (CROAKING)
Nuclear...
KIM MAKES A STABBING MOTION WITH HIS FINGER.
AIDE (TO HIS FELLOWS)
He wants a new clean bedpan.
ALL THE AIDES EXIT.
KIM (CROAKING)
Nuclear...
HE SLUMPS WITH A DEATH RATTLE.
END.