A story to go along with the picture:

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It was a dark, solemn night over the bustling city of Pyongyang. On the top floor of a pristine building, standing defiantly amongst the normally morose streets, a man stood.

This was not an ordinary man, however. This man was none other than the current ruler of The People’s Republic of North Korea, Kim Jong Un. Only recently having risen to his position as Omnicron Hearstmaster Kushlord Fuckemperor, he felt a sense of well, emptiness. He had all this power, fame, and glory, but he couldn’t shake this feeling of desiring something greater. He was the latest heir in the long line of the Kim family; he couldn’t just take this position lightly.

God, he was a mess. He was in no position to take this role. An entire country feared by the weakling Westerners and those pussies down in South Korea. What a lot of posers; he thought. But this sense of grandeur didn’t satisfy him. He turned around and poured a cup of lukewarm tea from the teapot laying on a small table littered with pictures of him and his family. Looking around the room, he saw pictures of his ancestor’s accomplishments across the walls of the penthouse office. The building of the great dam, the freeing of North Korea from capitalist stinkpigs, even his grandfather’s crazy birthday party; all thing done by his forefathers. But what had –he- done? He felt no sense of self-worth. This beautiful land was guided under the watchful eyes of others, not him. And he feared that he was going to break under the pressure.

“Grandfather…if you can hear me, I need your help. Please give me a sign that I am doing well to lead the good people of North Korea”, Kim Jong Un whispered to himself. He felt a small spark of relief followed by a sense of hopelessness. There was no way his grandfather could help him now.

Suddenly, a spark of light emitted from nothing. Kim Jong Un dropped his cup in surprise, too startled to even scream, as a being began to emerge from the light. It was a small, somewhat pudgy man, with tangled oily hair. It resembled his grandfather to a degree, but there were noticeable differences. Still, Kim felt it wouldn’t hurt to ask; it might be his last chance to, after all.

“Gr-grandfather…i-is that you?” Un stuttered. The being began to look around the room with the same solemn gaze Jong Il hand. He finally set his eyes upon Jong Un. And for the first time in his life, he saw his grandfather break a smile.

He began to speak. “Jong Un, yes, it is I, Kim Jong Il. I’ve returned from the dead to get a few things off my chest. I’ve never once hated you, my grandson. I wanted you to grow up with the power and discipline my father taught to me, so that you may lead the glorious nation of North Korea to an era of prosperity and security from the foolish Westerners. But, I have long since transcended my identity of Kim Jong Il. I am now complete.”

Jong Un couldn’t understand what his grandfather was saying. What did he mean by “transcended”? It made no sense! “Grandfather, you are still somewhat recognizable to me. What do you mean by this?”

“It is simple, my grandson.” Jong Il, reached behind his back and pulled out what appeared to be a large water pipe. “I have now become Kim Bong Skrill, master of sick beats and good times. And Jong Un, you have shown great promise to guide those who are still trapped in the world of the living.” The newly revealed Kim Bong Skrill took a hit of the ethereal hash and revealed that all was right with the world.

“W-well, uh, Kim Bong Skrill, how may I guide these lost souls living within this People’s Republic?” Jong Un choked out. He was simultaneously both amazed and frightened.

“It is simple. You must first be baptized by the Ultimate Bassdrop.” Kim Bong Skrill held out his hands and created a vinyl record from thin air. On its front was a picture of the North Korean flag, and hundreds of happy citizens smiling. “Now, Jong Un. Drop the Bass and know your place in the world.”

Jong Un somehow knew what had to be done. He exited the penthouse and went up to the roof. The winds were unusually calm and the air was full of peace. He took the vinyl within his hand, and began to walk towards the edge of the building. He looked down the many stories of the building, but did not feel scared. He knew he would be all right. He took a few steps back…and began to run forward, and screamed at the top of his lungs: “I don’t GIVE A FUCKKKKK-K-K!”

The silence of the night was immediately broken as sick beats and bass bumps emitted from the heavens themselves. A beam of moonlight hit Jong Un as he began to fall, slowing his descent. As if being guided by a divine force, Jong Un held out the vinyl in front of him. It began to spin, faster and faster, until it glowed white-hot from the shear speed. Kim also began to glow a pure, holy white, as his body, mind and soul began to synchronize with the universe.

Throughout North Korea, everyone could see an incredible light emit from the largest tower in Pyongyang. Gazing into its beautiful luster, they all knew that the high times were about to arrive.

Back at the tower, Kim Jong Un finally descended towards the ground. By then, his body had been transformed as a result of his transcendence. His hair was now electrified in place, his finger longer and articulate, and his rhythm was impeccable. He looked around and all the citizens of Pyongyang smiling at him. They were proud that their young leader had finally figured out the true meaning of life. Behind him, his advisors and political helpers began to set up an incredible soundstage for him. His personal guard came up to him and handed him the latest MacBook Blow. Jong Un glanced up from the perfect device and saw Kim Bong Skrill once again.

“Jong Un, you have done it. I am so very proud of you...wait, no.” Jong Un was saddened by Bong Skrill’s sudden disapproval, but then; “You are no longer Kim Jong Un, my grandson. You are to now be known as ‘Kim Dong Unimal Collective’, master of rhythm and whack-ass tunes.”

Kim Dong Unimal Collective was overjoyed. But, he knew that he had to work for the people of his country. And he knew just how to get started.

He screamed out to the audience in front of him, “Alright People of this Democratic Republic, are you ready to get your faces skrilled off?” The audience exploded with cheers and hollering, and Kim Dong Unimal Collective began to perform his first amazing Electro-Synth-House-Flubstep single, “King Fart of Doo-Doo Mountain”.