My refrigerator is running for mayor. I thought, what could the harm be? It’s not going to win. But then my entire kitchen got into it. My oven, very convinced it’s a master seamstress, decided to make the campaign banners. They read, “Beat the Incumbent!” This wouldn’t be too bad, if not for the fact that the current mayor has been repeatedly assaulted with large sticks. The coffee maker tried to make the first banners, but all that could be read was a shaky “4.” It’s not the most intelligent kitchen appliance.
My blender is all about style. It’s a Cuisinart, after all. So it’s now the official campaign costume designer. I told it they don’t call them “costumes” in politics, but it didn’t respond. How rude. Did the Wigs call them costumes? Oh, wait, it’s Whig, isn’t it? Uppity, early-American fools. The blender was doing well until it told the fridge to wear clothes. It’s just not natural for a refrigerator to be clothed. What’s this world coming to when you walk into your kitchen and discover that your food is blocked by a blue jumpsuit?
For spokesman, they’ve selected the toaster. He’s pretty brave, after all. You’d have to be for this job, especially after that scandal with the iron. It branded him with bad puns. The PR guy is my toaster oven, which isn’t as brave, but still gets the job done. The toaster and the toaster oven were joined at birth, but were separated and sold in the “defective” bin at Goodwill.
Finally, they convinced me to drive around with a megaphone and yell, “Fridge for office! Fridge for office!” I can’t tell you how many times people have stopped me and empathized for the lack of refrigerator in my office’s breakroom.
I really hope my appliances don’t get too disappointed when the refrigerator loses. I mean, honestly, who would vote for a fridge? But who knows? Maybe people are tired of Mayor Maytag.
Until next time, this is Xavier Yes. Stay classical.
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