Three days after his triumphant return from Singapore, Kim Jong Un visits his dentist’s office for cleaning and a checkup. Under the glare of three security agents the dentist lifts a syringe, smiles, and says, “Just a little Novocain.”
“Why Novocain for cleaning?” says one of the tough guys.
“The Dear Leader usually has some rather deep pockets of plaque. They’ll have to be removed or he may lose a few teeth.”
“Make sure he doesn’t,” says another rough guy.
“Get started,” says Kim.
“Yes sir.” The dentist gently inserts the needle into his gum. “This should take effect very soon.”
Two hidden cameras with sensitive microphones are recording this session.
“Congratulations on your marvelous agreement with Donald Trump,” says the dentist. “I hope the Korean Peninsula will soon be denuclearized.”
“We’ve spent seventy years and more than all our money to deter the United States from crushing us. Nothing will happen soon. I know President Trump thinks I’m going to start dismantling ballistic missiles and nuclear weapons in a couple of months, and maybe I should. I want the Americans to think we’re cooperating. I really do want to cooperate but not how they want. They expect me to surrender and hand over all my nuclear weapons. I suppose I’ll have to give them some but never all. I must be able to strike at least a few U.S. cities or they’ll march me through the streets of Pyongyang first chance they get.”
“Our people would never permit that,” the dentist says.
“Look how Italy turned on Mussolini and Libya on Gaddafi. People back whoever’s got them by the throat. I don’t like choking them but I can’t let people say bad things. I can’t even let them think that way. If they do, their families also suffer. Imagine what they’ll do if I ever weaken? But I’m not conceding I ever will. I’m confident we can build a paradise. President Trump’s right. We can be rich like South Korea and Singapore. But people with money and knowledge don’t like dictators. They’ll complain and agitate and overthrow me if they can. And the Americans will help. So will the South Koreans and Japanese. I might not even be able to depend on the Chinese if they think I’m a pain in the ass. I’m really trying to help my people. I don’t like seeing them malnourished. I don’t like having to imprison them. What if they get out? They won’t escape as long as I have nuclear weapons. Trump may not be bluffing, though. I may have to fight or turn over my sword.
“Or maybe I won’t have to do either. I’m going to negotiate and make promises and stall and continue moving slowly, and when the Americans start threatening me again, and holding joint military exercises with our dangerous brothers to the south, I’ll make some concessions. In fact, I’ll already have made concessions. I’ll have destroyed old bombs and equipment and test sites irrelevant for the future. And I’ll plan a huge new ceremony and invite President Trump to stand beside me as I blow up more junk. Trump will love it. He’ll give me thumbs up and salute my generals and I’ll pat his back and, this time, I’ll even embrace him.”
“Get to work,” a tough guy tells the dentist.
He nods and says, “Open wide, Chairman Kim.”
As Kim Jong Un continues talking with increasing intensity and diminishing coherence, security agents call a special emergency medical team and arrest the dentist. Chemists determine Kim has been given a massive dose of methamphetamine. The dentist’s name is removed from the door and his whereabouts are unknown. Cameras continue transmitting an empty office to the National Security Agency.