S. Korea's 'Worst-Case Scenario' Planning Doesn't Include Genital Torture

ast week's announcement by South Korea that it was planning for a "worst-case scenario" in a U.S.-North Korean war fell short by the standards of many worst-case scenario experts.

According to delegates speaking on behalf of South Korea, the country is making preparations for war in the event negotiations to prevent nuclear armament fail. South Korea anticipates multiple responses that could endanger the country, even up to and including a nuclear attack on a major city such as Seoul by their northern neighbor, an event South Korea considers a "worst-case scenario."

But those in the know say a nuclear assault on Seoul would fall far short of the "worst-case," in their estimate. A nuclear blast would likely incinerate most inhabitants on the spot, and those not killed in the blast, while being badly burned and poisoned by nuclear radiation, would still face quicker and less painful deaths than other possible, "even worse" scenarios.

"An atomic death would be horrible, no doubt about it, but 'worse-case'?" questioned worst-case scenario expert Rich "the Douche" Borwinkle. "I highly doubt that. Until you introduce things like genital electrocution and sandpaper-on-the-eyeballs, you're a long way from worst-case."

Borwinkle makes a point other experts agree with; worst-case aficionado and author of The 100 Worst Ways to Die Albert Crome insists he made the point before anyone else.

"There are peaceful ways to die, like suffocating in your sleep or freezing to death or something. I've heard drowning is a little intense, but it's pretty cool because the flashbacks in those last moments of brain activity are awesome. But nuclear assault isn't anywhere close to best or worst, it's right in the middle."

Continued Crome, "One word for you: Acid. That'll smack you on the ass, won't it? Don't tell me if given a choice between radiation poisoning and acid in the face you would take the latter. And we're not even getting into flesh-eating bacteria, small pox, or some of the more ordinary every-day deaths like ass cancer. That'll make you beg for a mushroom cloud."

Expressions of Slaughter videos producer Jacob Vissucio also found the South Korean "worst-case" preparation falling short. "No doubt the South Koreans aren't anticipating being caught on train tracks when North Korea comes barreling through, non-stop. Here, check this out."

This reporter did, indeed, "check it out," and voluminous vomiting followed. If South Korea is subject to the same kind of horror as the poor son of a bitch on the video, they have yet to know what real pain is.

Similar feelings resonate with many Americans, at least those in Roanoke, Virginia's Bewley High 10 a.m. study hall.

Stiller Wells, one study hall regular: "If North Korea was real vicious, like real sick bastards, they should do some of that medieval shit on South-K. They would, like, rip a whole in your stomach—not enough to kill you, but just enough so's this giant rat could be shoved in there. And the rat, like, ain't been fed in days so it goes all crazy eating up inside you. That's some sick shit. The South wouldn't rise again from that, I tell you what."

Wells and this reporter then made plans to rent the train video that was described to him, at some future unnamed date. Representatives from the South Korean embassy refused to respond to questions, and would not stay on the phone long enough to hear the details of the rat story.

he first attempt to locate 33,000 missing sex offenders in California failed when there was no response to a highly-publicized offer of a phony coupon good for "one free molestation and/or sexual assault."

It was a disappointment for state government, who has faced ridicule since January 7, 2003 for its admission that it lost 33,000 sex offenders from its registry. The registry was created in response to Megan's Law, legislation requiring convicted sex offenders to register their addresses with the state, manipulatively named after a murdered sexual assault victim.

"The coupon was not real, let me stress that," said California Department of Public Relations VP Millie Scheiner. "Damn truth-in-advertising laws required we put that note in all ads promoting the 'amnesty coupon,' but we made it really small and put it in the fine print. Who reads that? Well, apparently sex offenders are wise shoppers."

Part of the annoyance at the failure is that the state will now be forced to pursue more expensive searches to find the missing sex offenders. Budget analysts have suggested that it could cost the state at least $20 million to find the sex offenders and register them once again. To stave that cost, other proposals are already flowing in.

"A major step in reducing the cost of the search is to eliminate places you won't find sex offenders," said Geoff Jermaine, founder and president of PervSearch, an independent company formed with hope of winning a state contract to find the missing sex offenders. "For instance, it's pretty safe to assume we won't search police stations. We know they're not in prisons either, so that cuts down on a lot of search areas. How much of California can there be?"

The second step, according to Jermaine, is to actively seek places that might provide a good hiding place for sex offenders, like Georgia and Catholic churches.

"Our first step will be to check stadiums, large open fields, mid-size towns and army bases, anywhere that could house 33,000 people—that's a large number of perverts to go walking down Hollywood Boulevard in the daytime," said Jermaine. "But more than likely we'll have to consider the possibility that they've all split up by now. It's a damn shame. That's going to make the search a lot harder."

The state government hasn't ruled out hiring an independent contractor to locate and register the missing sex offenders, but they are still considering all options at this point. Governor's office insiders have leaked a number of possible methods of finding the sex offenders, including putting their faces on the side of milk cartons with messages such as, "Have you seen me? I'm a rapist. Please call 1-800-SEX-PERV." Early success with the milk carton search method could lead to T-shirts with similar messages, and might even catch on as a fad with cynical high schoolers and twentysomethings.

Still other solutions are on the drawing board. America's Most Wanted star John Walsh said he has approached the state government with a proposal for a weekend marathon on Fox where they show pictures of the missing offenders, present computer representations of what they might look like with old-time mustaches and glasses, and take calls from anonymous informers.

"I think it could be really great, for California and for Fox," said Walsh. "We could have a huge total board behind me and periodically I tell them to show me the total, and the roll up the numbers. We could continue right through Sunday night and I bet you we get at least 25,000 of them back. With the help of viewers like you."

Recovering the sex offenders would be the first step for California in recovering from its humiliation. According to insiders, Gov. Gray Davis has received countless prank calls from national senators, representatives, and other governors asking if he left the sex offenders in his other pants pockets, or saying they have seen the 33,000 missing ex-convicts at the local Safeway.

I have a legal question, and can't get my sister on the phone lately, so I ask you: If you shoot your dad in your own home, is it legal? I know it applies if you shoot a burglar, or if you tie him up and torture him and saw his legs off. If it's your dad, does that take away the whole legal angle? What if you've been letting him stay in the house? Is that like a binding contract or anything?

Not that I would kill my dad. I just like to be aware of my options. Even the last resort kind. He's not bad, by himself, but lately you can never catch him by himself. Him and his buddies have been camping out on the living room floor in my apartment. Which is where my mom used to sleep before he came to live with me, so now she's sharing my bed. And she farts like a French horn all night. So it's all one little straw piled on top of each other, not any single one of them pissing me off by itself, but the whole bunch is about to kill me.

Things got even worse a month ago when Uncle Luke came to visit. If someone comes to your place to visit and puts their name on the mailbox, let that be a warning they probably plan on staying longer. The place is just way too crowded. I'm starting to think some of these cats wandering around here aren't even mom's, they just came in when someone left the door open. The police have been out to my place three times in the last two nights, which is a lot even for me, and the more they hang around the more they're going to realize some of those spices in the spice rack aren't totally legal.

Uncle Luke is probably the biggest problem. My dad is like gunpowder, you know, but gunpowder when it's just by itself isn't so bad. Then you throw in Uncle Luke, he's like firewater or something. I'm not sure of the exact chemical equation, I'll have to check my high school chemistry notes, but it all leads to big kabooms. Not just one, but one after another. Dad's gang was fine until Uncle Luke showed up. Now Uncle Luke has challenged dad for leadership with the accusation he never gave the group a real name—grounds for a challenge, I guess, according to the rules of the gang they wrote on the back of that Denny's menu. The group is split down the middle into two factions, with Freddy Mercury being loyal to dad but Icepick really liking Uncle Luke's vision of the future. Plus, he promised to buy jackets for everybody.

Dudes, this may be obvious, but I don't have time for this shit. That supertramp Jayme is still trying to steal my work at the comic book and now der commune führer Bagel is demanding I come into the office at least once a week so he can verify I've not been replaced with a robot by his conniving brother. And I know, seriously, like you could even tell in person if it was a really, really good robot. But I'm not complaining. Wait, let me reread—yeah, I guess I am complaining. With good reason. But my point is my dad and his homies are the last thing I need to worry about right now.

Dad probably should just give up the gang. They all should. A bunch of 40+ flabby white guys really don't have a prayer in hell of controlling any major turf. I wish there was some kind of "scared straight" program for old dudes. A little tour of a real prison yard, a first-rate max security penitentiary, would clear dad up real quick. He thinks he's been to prison after spending the night in county for shoplifting at Safeway. I'm tired of his bragging about doing "9 hours in Cell Block 1." It was Cell Block 1 because they didn't have another, dad. Didn't you notice all the winos? Did they look like criminal masterminds?

My best bet at this point would probably be to challenge both dad and Uncle Luke for leadership of the gang. I think on a good day mom could take both of them in the circle of death, so they got shit chance against me. Then I just disband their gay-ass fight club and decree they find real jobs and their own clubhouse. Or, murder. The murder thing is an option. So get back to me on that whole legal/illegal thing.

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