Two mini stories about South Korea because she deserves the love.
South Korea was on her back and clutching a throw pillow to her chest. She watched the ceiling fan whirl and stir up the summer air. Then her face twisted in pain.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I can’t call him North anymore because he hates it. But I can’t call him Korea either because I’m Korea too.” Her brow scrunched up. “And like hell I’m going to call him ‘DPRK.’ It’s too long.”
On the other side of the couch, America was abusing a controller; like a real gamer, he knew that mashing buttons would make his attacks work better.
He said, “Why don’t you just call him, like, Diparky?”
“Like, you’re the R-O-K, which sounds like rock. DPRK sounds like Diparky.”
“Do you want me to be honest? Because Rock is not a flattering name. Diparky is bad too. No, it’s worse.”
“Like, double penetration?”
“Deeps. Deeperk. Diparky–I said Diparky already, didn’t I? Deekay.”
“Donkey Kong?” She glanced at the TV to check his progress in the game. “Are you ruining my KDA?”
“Let’s forget acronyms completely. Mean Korea? Evil Korea? Bad Korea? Best Korea?”
She thumped his arm with her foot. “Let that meme die, please.”
“Not if it’s still funny.”
“I’m going to call him ‘Bro.’ It’s simple, it’s tasteful, and I don’t care anymore.”
“But, Rock, where’s the fun in that?”
She was alone when the printer whirred to life and a chrrt, chrrt, chrrt filled the dark room.
The United Nations had cleared out hours ago. She would have been at home surrounded by electronics and snacks if she hadn’t accidentally fallen asleep in one of the cozy office rooms. Now she was awake and hungry and the machines were alive with the sound of outdated hardware.
She felt around for the switch on the wall. When the lights flickered on she saw the printer churning out pages all on its own.
The top page read:
This is a warning.
The next page:
Are you alone?
A chill ran up her spine. The printer grabbed another sheet.
She cocked an eyebrow. Was that a faint tapping sound she began to hear?
Beware, whorish American puppet. Your days of treachery will soon be over. Purifying fire will wipe out the traitors and silence their fascist shrieking.
South Korea sighed–so hard it came out like a groan–and shouted, “Cut it out, you little communist shit.”
A startled yelp came from down the hall, followed by exasperation:
“How did you know!?”
I think this was based on something that happened between North Korea and South Korea IRL but now I don’t even remember what that was.
I will write something more substantive about her eventually.