“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”
Then the mirror was shaken and an irate voice yelled, “get with it mirror, this is your commander -in-chief speaking!”
Jolted awake, the mirror thought, jeez, he’s back again, this schmuck just can’t get enough of himself. And not only does he stare into the mirror at all times of the day, he never turns off the damn big screen TV, hoping to see himself on his favorite news channel. The mirror couldn’t remember the last time it had enjoyed a good night’s sleep.
The mirror thought back to the day it had taken this job. True, times were tough, with all the pandemic job layoffs, no one seemed inclined to do much introspection, and magic mirrors were even less popular now that everyone was staring into their smart phones hoping some banal text would suddenly turn their lives around. So, when his agent had called to say there was a gig open at the White House, the mirror had jumped at it.
It had already been installed in the president’s bedroom when the story of the previous mirror’s demise was revealed. Seems that mirror had made the mistake of not properly praising the man’s hair and it had been shattered by the furious toss of a hairbrush.
“Hey, mirror, I asked you a question. Now, get with it or I’m going to send out a tweet that you and your kind are part of a radical left wing conspiracy trying to destroy America’s in-egalitarian system of shareholder capitalism.”
Recognizing that a temper tantrum was imminent, the mirror hastened to reply, “You are, Donny dear, the fairest, the best, the most beautiful.”
“More beautiful than Vladimir?”
“Of course,” answered the mirror, piling it on, this guy could never get enough of himself, “Vlad’s a midget, wears lifts in his shoes, not even close to your impressive stature.”
Donny smiled as he looked at himself, liking what he was hearing.
“More beautiful than Xi Jinpang?”
“Of course, Donny, that guy’s nearly bald.”
Confidence restored, Donny turned and walked away, off to sign another proclamation, another demonstration of his all consuming largesse. On today’s schedule was the annexation of Canada.
The mirror let out a sigh of relief. How, with all the possibilities for magic mirror assignments, had it managed to get Donny. The mirror wondered if bad karma had something to do with it.
Then he was back, agitated, “I just heard that I’m behind in the polls, tell me this isn’t so.”
The mirror, long ago resigned to the truth that job security was more important than strict adherence to the facts, again decided to humor Donny with an alternate picture of reality.
“Not possible,” assured the mirror calmly, “my latest poll shows you leading with an almost 98 percent approval rating.”
“That’s more like it,” breathed Donny with relief, and he turned to get back to granting tax relief to everyone who was worth more than a billion dollars and who regularly played on one of his golf courses.
The mirror sighed, sure its poll was limited to members of the president’s immediate family who had not written tell all books about him but, hey, a poll’s a poll.
Moral: What you see may not be what you get.