North Korea wasn’t sure how China got injured. He just knew that when he first spotted him at the military base where they were meeting, China was on the ground.
“China?” North Korea called out, cautious at first to approach such a suspicious situation. When all he got was a groan in return, he ran over to his fallen comrade. “China! What happened? Did the United States do this to you?”
China, whose face had been more or less planted in the ground, looked up to squint at North Korea. “Why would he have anything to do with this?”
“No, I actually–” China was cut off by a sharp pain shooting through his hip. He gave up and brought a hand to his aching body. “It doesn’t matter.”
North Korea gasped. “China, when old people break their hip, they die.”
“I’m not old.”
This got a surprising chuckle out of his serious friend.
“You’re at least…” Then North Korea paused a moment, eyes glancing up in thought, “…57 times older than I am. That’s so old–”
Then North Korea dropped down to his knees and let the upper half of his body fall forward, sort of as if he were bowing while hardcore begging for forgiveness. “What if you do really die? What am I going to do? Who’s going to give me all the foreign aid I need?” The Korean was becoming increasingly more panicked and filled with mental anguish. “Ahhh, the aid! The aid, China! If you die, I’ll die!”
China made the mistake of trying to get up again. “Neither of us are dyi—mnnn dammit!” So of course, he fell back down and decided to just lie there next to his semi-wailing neighbor.
They remained like that for at least another twenty minutes before he finally yelled at North Korea to help him up. It was quite the sight.