Donald Jr. walked into his father’s Presidential Suite and flopped down on the couch. “This has got to be the worst hotel in the world,” he said, looking up at his father, who, as usual, ignored him.
He was simply glad to be there. Getting some one-on-one time with the old man was very rare for him these days. It wasn’t just that nobody else in the family was willing to go to North Korea; this was a chance for him to finally tell the president about his idea to issue a new line of bitcoins that depicted a muscled, defiant Trump standing, with his foot on the windpipe of a shabby-looking hippie lying beneath him. They’d sell millions of them!
They were in Pyongyang to meet with Supreme Leader Kim Jong Un. They had flown halfway around the world so that his father could receive yet another award.