Mirror mirror on the wall…

(Scene: Gilded Mar-a-Lago bathroom. The walls gleam like an overcompensating oil baron’s fever dream. The toilet is more gold than Kohler ever intended. A towel embroidered with #47 hangs limply on a rack. Trump stands before an enormous, baroque mirror framed with tiny eagles, miniature MAGA hats, and gold-plated golf tees.)

Trump adjusts his red tie like it’s a security blanket and leans in, smirking.

Trump: “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the greatest of them all? Be honest — but not too honest.”

Reflection: (with a smirk) “Define greatest. In bankruptcies? Golf cheats? Historic impeachments? Hair architectural failures?”

Trump: (waving it off) “Fake news categories. I’m talking real greatness. Tremendous greatness. World-class greatness. The kind they make statues for. Big, beautiful statues.”

Reflection: “Ah yes. The man who turned the presidency into a punchline and Mar-a-Lago into a geriatric speakeasy. A living monument to gold leaf over drywall rot.”

Trump: (nodding proudly) “Exactly. No one does monuments like me. I mean, Mount Rushmore was this close.”

Reflection: (leans in) “You are a monument. To failure. To pettiness. To the stunning achievement of lowering the bar so far it cracked Earth’s mantle. Frankly, scientists are still studying how deep your mediocrity goes.”

Trump: (blinking rapidly) “I’m very popular in China. They respect me. Xi calls me ‘the King of Deals.’ We have chemistry. Like two dictators passing in the night.”

Reflection: “Xi calls you a useful idiot. Loudly. In Mandarin. While laughing. With other world leaders. At the G20. Right before they muted you on Zoom.”

Trump: (scowling) “Jealous. Everyone’s jealous. Always have been. That’s why the media lies. That’s why the deep state—”

Reflection: “Oh yes, the deep state. The only thing deeper than your paranoia is your tax debt. And your tanning creases.”

Trump: (defensive) “It’s stressful being a living legend. I’m under constant attack. Witch hunts. Hoaxes. Leaks.”

Reflection: “You leak, all right. Classified documents. To your golf buddies. On Signal. With emojis. Wrapped in cheeseburger wrappers and national security violations.”

Trump: (snorts) “I built an empire! I was a star! I was on the cover of Time!”

Reflection: (laughing cruelly) “You were on a fake Time magazine cover. Hanging in your golf clubs. Printed on glossy paper like a sad kid’s homemade trophy. That wasn’t honor, Don. That was arts and crafts time for sociopaths.”

Trump: (fuming) “People loved The Apprentice. Best show. Huge ratings.”

Reflection: “Until they got a glimpse behind the curtain and realized the wizard was just an angry orange fog machine.”

Trump: (jabbing a stubby finger at the mirror) “You’re just jealous. You’re me! You wish you could be this successful!”

Reflection: (grinning viciously) “Oh, I AM you. I am the you that you hide from and pretend doesn’t exist. The one that sees the world as it actually is — not as you want it to be. The one who remembers all the things you pretend never happened. Every lie, every bribe, every cheap thrill that cost someone else everything.”

(The mirror shimmers. Trump’s image fractures into a kaleidoscope of distorted versions: Trump in court, Trump with ketchup on his shirt, Trump alone on a golf cart, Trump screaming at an iPad. They all laugh in perfect, chaotic unison.)

Trump: (staggering back, horrified) “Jared! Jared! Get me a new mirror! This one’s woke!”

(Just then, the door creaks open. Elon Musk walks in, shirtless, wrapped in a SpaceX-branded towel, and holding what appears to be a Neuralink-enabled electric toothbrush.)

Elon: (eyeing the mirror, deadpan) “Or maybe… an exorcist.”

Trump: (blinking) “Elon? What the hell are you doing in my—wait, is that my towel?”

Elon: (shrugging) “Thought this was the sensory deprivation room. Also, Grimes said this place has excellent demon resonance. She’s measuring it remotely.”

Reflection: (muttering) “Oh great. Now it’s a tech summit for the spiritually unwell.”

Elon: (studying the flickering mirror) “Yep. That’s a Class Five narcissistic feedback loop. If we don’t unplug it soon, it’ll start manifesting NFTs.”

Trump: “Just fix it. Or build me a new one. Better. Bigger. With lasers.”

Elon: (grinning) “Sure. We’ll call it MirrorX. It’ll reflect what you want to see—for a monthly fee.”

Reflection: “Finally, someone who understands the business model of delusion.”

(The mirror begins softly playing Kid Rock’s “American Badass” in reverse. Trump and Elon both stare in silence.)

Trump: (muttering) “This is still better than talking to Pence.”

(Cut to black. Cue infomercial music for MirrorX: The Echo Chamber You Deserve™.)