The Mirror Awakening
It was just another morning in the golden halls of Mar-a-Lago. Sunlight streamed through the oversized windows, casting a warm glow on the luxurious decor. Donald Trump, dressed in his signature suit, wandered into the marble-clad bathroom, humming a tune from one of his campaign rallies.
As he casually glanced at himself in the mirror, something unexpected happened.
He froze.
The man staring back at him wasn’t the image he had in mind. The familiar golden hair was slightly more disheveled, the red tie sat uncomfortably high on his expanding midsection, and his cheeks seemed a little puffier than usual. He leaned in closer, squinting. Was that… a second chin?
“No. This can’t be right. Mirrors must be rigged. FAKE!” he muttered, waving a dismissive hand.
But the mirror didn’t blink. It didn’t care.
For the first time in years, Trump was confronted with a reflection that even he couldn’t negotiate away. The stacks of burgers, the endless Diet Cokes, the late-night fast-food feasts—they were all catching up to him.
“This is not good. Not good at all. People are saying I look… tired. Maybe even… swollen. And they’re right. They’re right!” he admitted to himself, pacing back and forth.
Suddenly, a decision formed in his mind, as sharp and decisive as one of his campaign slogans.
“That’s it. I’m cutting down. No more 15 burgers a day. Too much. Way too much. We’re going to be smart. Very smart. We’re bringing it down to five. Five burgers. That’s a great number. Strong number. Very healthy.”
He pointed at the mirror, as if making a deal with himself.
“Five burgers a day. Maybe even throw in a salad. Who knows? People love salads. They tell me all the time. Maybe a little less ketchup. We’ll see.”
Feeling triumphant, Trump adjusted his tie and smirked. The man in the mirror still looked a bit tired, but now, there was determination in his eyes.
“This is going to be the greatest diet. The best diet. People will be talking about it. They’ll say, ‘Nobody cuts burgers like Trump does.’”
And with that, he marched out of the bathroom, ready to inform his kitchen staff of the revolutionary new health plan. Five burgers a day. It was going to be huge.
