I could absolutely destroy my big brother right now! He’s got such a sweet ride to the Singapore Summit! He’s riding on a big old Air China Boeing 747 right about now. Sure, it’s not a Dream Liner or a monster Airbus, but it’s been nicely retrofitted and has those special lay flat seats. He can snooze in comfort or watch Netflix for the 10 hour flight.
I bet he’s catching up on all The Apprentice episodes.
I’m stuck in this this horrible old Soviet deathtrap of an airplane. It was out of date when my grandfather was alive!
No inflight movie, no wifi, barely any cabin pressurization. I swear he wants us all to die of oxygen deprivation. This thing is held together with duct tape and razor wire, and I am pretty sure we’d be blown out of the sky by the jet wash from some of those Chinese fighter jets acting as escorts.
As soon as we land in Singapore, I’m going shopping!
Oh, my! Singapore is beautiful! It’s so clean and full of cars and beautifully dressed women! I can’t wait to go shopping on Orchard Road.
Except now I can’t, because my stupid Big Brother has been out on the town without me. Now, no one can go look at Boat Quay or Canning Park or the War Memorial (the Japanese did a number on Singapore, I can tell you!).
Big Brother hung out with the Singaporean Foreign Minister—some guy named Vivian. Who names their son Vivian? What’d they become Vivie and Uni? Jeez. Sounds like some old woman lesbo movie.
They. Took. Selfies! Selfies that got posted to Twitter. What is that little dunce thinking? Doesn’t he know I’m the one who’s supposed to get the rock star treatment? He can’t go around taking selfies, no one will take him seriously.
Donald Trump doesn’t take selfies.
I wonder if Trump took his own toilet.
This summit is BOOOORRRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGG! After Trump and Big Brother hit it off, comparing rocket sizes, they paired me with some stupid under secretary for human rights.
Some flunky for me, the Supreme Leader’s sister? I didn’t even rate Rodman.
Human rights? Yeah, sure. We’ll get to that. Eventually.
But it looks like we’re gonna get a McDonald’s in Pyongyang. I hope they won’t get hung up on the rat meat nuggets.
Well, Trump sure got out of here fast! So that means I have to get on that old Soviet death trap and fly home.
I did not get to do anything I wanted. No pearl shopping on Orchard Road (the slave teeth just don’t have the same luster), no selfies with Ivanka, no Singapore Slings or G&Ts in the Raffles Long Bar.
All I got from this summit was this lousy bathrobe, and I had to steal that.
I swear I will put Ex-Lax in Big Brother’s chocolate shake.
[OBVIOUSLY THIS IS ALL SATIRE]