Hoop Dreams

A quiet noontime at Panmujon, the pale blue buildings clear and distinct like a Hopper painting in the late summer glare.

The stillness is broken by the sound, seeming to come from everywhere, of canted helicopter blades thrashing in for a landing. An American S-97 Next Gen Attack Helicopter comes to earth in the United Nations compound while on the North Korean side a Mil Mi-2 combat helo settles onto its pad.

First off the American bird is Dennis Rodman, hair red-white-and-blue striped, body camoed to the max, with a big peace sign around his neck, and the outfit  topped off with a Chicago Bulls warmup jacket. The President of the United States follows Rodman. He is chopper ready with a red ball cap with POTUS on the front, a silk flight jacket with POTUS where the name tag should be, and a pair of camo cargo pants bloused over retro Corcoran jump boots. He sports his usual beady-eyed squint.

Kim Jung Un somewhat clumsily debarks the North Korean helo, dictator dapper in a nouveau Mao jacket and billowy rayon pants that end above his ankles, revealing a pair of tan workboots, like Kim is ready for a hard day of dictatoring.

Rodman takes right over, like a nuclear game show host, getting the two heads of state to pose for a ceremonial handshake right at the gate, and then herding them into the historic hall where the Korean Armistice Agreement was signed in 1953.

Trump and Kim sit on either side of a smallish green table and Rodman sits at the head, again the good game show host. A single translator is also present.

Rodman starts things by telling them both that since they’re both good friends of his, he wanted them to get together to talk out all these bullshit nuclear issues.

The two world leaders nod sagely and Trump says that he was glad to take advantage of this world-startling meeting because it would take some of the fucking pressure of the fucking Mueller Russian probe off him and get his ratings back up.

Kim seems taken by Trump’s swearing and says, “Fucking-A. Fuck Mueller.”

Trump is delighted and says to Rodman, “I love this little dude. Didn’t I tell you before I liked him? Didn’t  I? Liked him?”

Then he says to Kim, “Sorry about that Rocket Man name. It just came to me and I couldn’t resist.”

“No problem,” says Kim. “Mr. Elton John. Good song.”

“Go ahead, give it to him,” Trump says to Rodman and Rodman takes off his Bulls warmup jacket and walks around and gets Kim up and slips the jacket on him.

Kim looks down at the jacket and tears come into his eyes. “My champions,” he says.”Michael Jordan. Rodman my friend now always.”

“Great,” says Trump. “Now what about all these nuclear bombs you guys have been setting off? And the missiles.”

Kim says he just wants some respect and then maybe they’ll take him into the Nuclear Club.

“Jeez, is that all?” Trump says. “Look, I can get you in but that means you can’t be setting off bombs or threatening nations like us. How’s that sound?”

“Cool,” says Kim. “If you really mean it.”

“Mean it? Look, I got a Nuclear Club application right here,” Trump says, pulling one out of his flight jacket. “All you gotta do is fill it out and I’ll mail your membership card as soon as I get back. How’s that?”

“Great!” Kim says, “but there’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?” says Trump.

“I saw on television that you and the Japanese prime minister were eating some chocolate cake down in Florida and … .”

“Say no more, buddy!” Trump says.”I’m gonna have one of those cakes shipped over here every week for you. Does that mean we got a deal?”

“High five!” says Kim and they give each other the universal hand-smack and thus the world was saved from nuclear Armageddon.