The chicks who rubbed VX nerve gas on the face of Kim Jong-un’s embarrassingly fat and capitalistic ex-pat brother, Kim Jong Nam, are sticking with their story that they believed they were filming a TV prank show. Any excuse that’s never been used before is a solid fake excuse. Novelty points come into play. Though handling deadly nerve gas and living indicates more than a Candid Camera crash course in pranking. When earnestly dumb chicks are duped into crimes, they always end up dead. God made that rule so we could weed out the complicit.
North Korean officials are adamantly denying the assassination of the Great Leader’s decadent half-brother was perpetrated at the Jong-un’s behest. Though their rap sheet on family murders is pretty long. Kim Jong-un is notorious for killing his detractors in new and fascinatingly cinematic ways. He had a minister shot with a Howitzer cannon from six feet. That leaves a mark. Others have been thrown into pits with starving dogs. Plenty of beheadings. You have to imagine there’s pressure on his operatives to come up with new shit.
Chicks rubbing cloths soaked with VX gas onto his annoying brother’s cheeks at a Malaysian airport has to qualify. Certainly more effective than impotent Westerners un-friending one another on Facebook. Say what you will about Kim Jong-un, the man has chutzpah. There’s power in knowing that no matter how many millions of your citizens you subjugate, starve, or murder there will be nary a peep at The Oscars. If we didn’t have a Kim Jong-un, we’d have to invent him.
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