A five year old Kim Jong-Un glared at his top successor, Hyong Yong-Chul and turned away. “I don't want to talk to that dirty American.”
“Come on Mr. Kim, you have to. It's something that all world leaders must do, is negotiate.” Chul crossed his arms and looked at an angry Kim. The tiny child sat by the window, his face scrunched in a scowl at the stormy weather.
“I don't want to.”
“You have to Mr. Kim, the car is waiting- and bring your nukes.” Chul bowed to his leader and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Ten minutes later
Kim screamed and fought as Chul picked the little boy up and carried him out to the waiting car. “I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO THAT DIRTY TRUMP GUY, HE'S JUST TRYING TO SCARE ME AND HE'S GOING TO NUKE US!!!” Kim screamed as he was put in the back of the limousine-no car seat-and Chul buckled Kim’s seatbelt. Kim had brought his nukes, stuffed them in his pockets actually, even though he hadn't intended to do what Chul said. Chul looked nervously at Kim as he buckled his own seatbelt and the car began to move forward. Little Kim sat there, fuming.
“Please behave yourself for Mr. Trump Kim.” Chul said as he fixed the tiny pin Kim always wore. The little boy just sat there glaring. He jumped out of the chair he'd been sitting in and walked past Chul into a room where Trump was waiting.
“Hello Mr. Kim.” Trump smiled and shook Kim’s hand as he sat down at the table. (It had a tiny nameplate that read Table Of Negotiation.) Kim did not return the greeting. The scene was a bit awkward, Trump was a full grown man while Kim was just a boy of five. Yet the American president seemed uncomfortable around the little boy. He would shift awkwardly in his seat and seemed to tense whenever the Korean leader spoke. “About your nuclear power…” Trump said uneasily.
Kim glared. Trump shifted again as if the foreign leader could read his thoughts. “Put the nukes on the table.” He said firmly. Trump was a no nonsense man, an experienced politician with lots of money. He would go to any measures to protect his country, and everyone knew so.
The little boy glared at Trump and despite the nasty look he was getting from the American president, he reached into his pockets and pulled out his nuclear toys. He took a quick look at Trump, and carefully placed three missiles, a nuclear warhead, and two bombs on the table. Trump gave Kim a questioning look. “Types?” He inquired.
“I'm not going to tell.” Kim said tartly.
“You're a stubborn little kid and a danger to my country as well as the world Mr. Kim. If you wish to keep your precious country in existence I suggest you cooperate.”
This time it was Kim’s turn to be uncomfortable. As much as he would never admit it to anyone, the American president terrified him to death with all of that military power and world influence. The Americans had influence in the UN and NATO, something very valuable that Kim never could have. Kim never wished he could be part of the UN or NATO though, because those organizations were the countries that wouldn't let Kim continue with his nuclear ambitions-they were trying to take him down, he was the burning fire of the regime that they constantly tried to smother. America would surely nuke his country first, so Kim had to protect himself. He had the rights to build nuclear weapons if he wanted! For goodness sake, who wouldn't want to protect themselves from an enemy as hostile as America?! The most powerful country on Earth, ‘We’ll see who's laughing when I nuke your capital.’ Kim thought. He looked at Trump, who was waiting for a response. Suddenly Kim could not take it anymore. “I deserve apology you American b**tard!” The tiny kid yelled at the American president.
“Don your knees!”
Trump looked rather offended, scooting back in his chair a little as Kim yelled at him. He seemed like he didn't know what to do, call security or- suddenly Chul burst into the room, his expression dark and officer's cap sideways on his head as he ran to Kim.
“Mr. Kim!” He tried to pick his leader up and carry him out of the room, but Kim fought and screamed wildly, knocking Chul’s cap off his head and kicking him a few times.
“I deserve to have my protection!” He screamed to the room and tried to resist Chul. Finally Chul got a grip on Kim and carried the tiny boy out of the room. His screams echoed down the halls of the building and eventually got weaker and weaker as Chul walked towards the car. By the time he had reached the car little Kim was asleep on his shoulder, his arms around Chul’s neck.