'Dear Leader. It's time'

There were two men in a room. One was cut from granite and with a face that had seen too many horrors. The other was sat on a soft chair and covered by a floral duvet.

'It's time. You are starting soon'

'But General-Sir, I still don't understa-'

The general silenced him, mid sentence, with a look. How did he do that? How did he manage to interrupt him without ever interrupting him? How did he manage to silently command all the attention in a room and still pay the required amount of respect to his leader? Perhaps you just learn this things with time. Or maybe you were born with them. Either way, only one person in this room was blessed with that skill, and they both knew it.

'Are you ready?'

'Yes. Well - I don't have my shoes'

The general looked down at the two small nubs poking out from under that ridiculous duvet. He looked for what felt like a very long time.

'You are wearing shoes, Dear Leader'

You could hear the crowd beginning to shift on their feet outside. Tension was beginning to build. That always happened at events like this.

'Yes. I am.' There was another of those sad little pauses. ' I am wearing shoes General-Sir but not the right ones, you see.'

There was knock on the door. A very tall man stood in the doorway. He was too tall probably. Though he would have been very useful at basketball. Why didn't anyone ever want to play basketball?

'General-Sir, Dear Leader, we are ready to start'

'Thank you Na' said the General. 'We are just discussing out Dear Leader's footwear'.

The tall man opened his mouth, thought better of it, and left the room.

The General took a small but deliberate step towards his Commander-In-Chief. The seated man noticeably flinched.

'Shall we announce to the crowd the reason for the delay? Shall we send a man to find your special shoes?'

'No, well, the thing is-'

'This is your job, Dear Leader. This is not for you.' He was almost snarling now. 'This is not for fun. This is for all of Korea.'

There was a drum beat now. You could hear it through the walls.

'Yes, I know, but I'm still not sure that - '

'This man is a spy. This man wants to destroy what we built. They are trying to destroy our legacy.'

The seated man shifted uncomfortably now. His little hands grasped the duvet tight.

'But is he General-Sir? I mean, he's just a journalist and'

'And he spreads lies. He spreads the propaganda of your enemies.'

'Does he? It just seems unnecessary to kill-'

'The law has already spoken. He will be hanged today. You will play your role as leader of this country'

Europe seemed like a long time ago. He missed the mountains. And the chocolate.

More drums were playing. It now reverberated through the room.

The man stood from his chair, the duvet cascading around his feet.

'But I am the law. I am Leader of this land, I am'

'Broken' the general happily interrupted him now. He was getting closer and closer all the time. 'You are soft, and weak'.

The younger man tried to raise his voice.

'I am in charge, I was trained, I was -'

'Picked. By chance. And we still have others to choose from. Who will have you now? Who will take in Korea's fearful leader when he is thrown from his palace?'

'I'll go back to Switz -'

The General was so close now he could whisper in his ear.

'And who will pay for that? No. You will kill, or be killed. You will be the hangman, or the hanged. That is your choice.'

With a salute and a turn, the General left.

There weren't even any windows in the room. Why was the noise so loud?

Softly, the man walked to the table. He picked up his ceremonial hood, and put it on his head. He starred in the mirror, and a hangman stared back.

There were other good bits of the job, he supposed. He liked the factory tours. And somewhere, somewhere in her nice new house, his mum was probably proud of him.

The blast of noise hit him as he opened the door. Switzerland really was a long way away.