Paul: Sam Cook won the best columnist award again.
Pope Francis: I’m sorry to hear that, Paul. I know you’ve worked very hard in the 12 years you’ve written this column. Though you’ve never won, at least you have the ability to write freely. Focus on the positives!
Kim Jong Un: 12 years?! Haha, you are weak! Even if you won, he gonna die of old age before you catch up to him. You number two forever. Big loser!
Paul: Sorry to be a buzzkill, guys. It’s just that sometimes I feel like I’m never gonna win.
Pope: Life isn’t about winning awards. It’s about affecting people and making a difference. Your fans don’t vote in vanilla newspaper polls. They’re too busy being alive and living their lives. You should do the same.
Kim Jong: Hey Paul, what is English slang for taking dump? Is it “going number two”? Is that why you always number two, because you so shitty?
Paul: Thanks, Kim. I can’t really understand a word you’re saying, but your kind support is appreciated.
Kim Jong: Yeah, you the biggest shitty in town. You nine kilogram turd in four kilogram bag. I bet all the sad ladies with no dads like you. Sit in crackhouse together and cry about feelings. Ooooh! Newspaper survey hurts! Middle-age hippie ladies with four cat and seven dildos no like my specialty fart jokes!
Paul: It’s my home turf, man! The Best of the Northland is a survey put out by the Duluth Reader. I should have this in the bag! Yet that bastard still wins! I hate Sam Cook! I hope his mustache suffocates him while he sleeps!
Kim Jong: Y’know, Kim could take care of Sam Cooks for you. Maybe Sam Cooks go away, never come home. Maybe his bathroom floor slippery? Maybe he fall. Maybe fish in lakes or moose in trees take revenge on Sam Cooks for years of sport? Maybe his glasses fog up and he walk into volcano, screaming “I totally ugly, tell all my secret!” before he burn up?
Pope: Paul, don’t listen to him. Violence is not the answer. With Sam Cook gone, there would be no way for you to ever win. Both of you would lose for the rest of eternity.
Paul: So how can I win, Pope?
Pope: Through hard work and perseverance.
Paul: Ugh. No thanks. It’s 2014.
Pope: Or by just living your life and enjoying the amazing things you have instead of worrying about pointless, superficial things like awards.
Paul: Yeah, that second one ain’t happening. Kim, do you have missiles that can just hit one person’s house, but not anyone else’s? Can you be that accurate from North Korea?
Kim Jong: Sure! Kim do it all the time with eyes closed. North Korea technology like MySpace and Match.com all in one! Unstoppable and sexy!
Pope: Paul, this is dangerous territory. Your very soul is at stake. You should be working towards making yourself happy, not making others unhappy.
Paul: What does being happy feel like, Pope? Is it like getting a lap dance from a stripper who really likes you?
Kim Jong: That’s what hitting Sam Cook’s bald spot with missile feel like!
Pope: Not exactly. Being happy feels more like a warm hug that stays with you forever.
Paul: Yeah, I gotta be honest with you. That sounds just awful.
Pope: Fine then. It’s like getting a new video game.
Paul: Hmm. I do like video games, but with Kim’s idea, I don’t have to do anything, right? I can just press a button and go get super high?
Kim Jong: The highest! North Korea pot taste like Miley Cyrus song!
Paul: It tastes like a teenage prostitute owned by a corporation?
Kim Jong: Yes! It like party all the time!
Paul: So my choices are a clingy, really uncomfortable hug that traps me forever or weed that tastes like rotten fish?
Pope: Life is funny that way! I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.
Pope Francis exits.
Paul: A missile, huh? Can you really hit his house?
Kim Jong: Maybe not first time, but sixth, seventh time. If we miss, we probably hit Superior, WI.
Paul: That’s okay. No one will notice.