Pig Trump sat looking glumly out on the Cofveve River.

He had really thought that Rocket Man was his friend. They had passed notes between them – special secrets. There had been the name calling at first. And sulks. And then they made up, and were really really good friends. And Hog Pompeo had told Rocket Man how much Pig Trump liked him.

Pig Trump had organised a party, and put notices up in the cafeteria.

But now Rocket Man had gone back to hanging out with his old friends from Dumpling Farm.

The silence in the White Barn was broken only by the mournful crackling sound coming from the record player:

Nobody knows where Jong-un has gone
Jinping left the same time
Why was he talking to him
When he’s supposed to be mine
It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to
Cry if I want to, cry if I want to
You would cry too if it happened to you