Z did not like his bathroom: “I have no money for that” stench was the worst here. The toothbrush, before turning on, first was pedantically reading out the rules of cleaning teeth, then, even more tediously and monotonously, narrated about news and novelties of dentistry. Soap was dictating address of the nearest nail salon. Water tap was never forgetting to turn off cold or hot water for a second, each time apologizing for that only “Santa” works flawlessly.

The towel was shocked with state of his facial skin and abundance of dandruff and never failed to remind that a single drop of “Apollo” cream would have eliminated both problems forever. As well as mimic wrinkles. And early baldness. Not to mention bad breath. When the towel groaned mincingly: “Oh, how can you be like that?” Z crumpled it and threw under the sink.

But the main enemy was, of course, a mirror.

“You!” it exclaimed. “Again! How long are you going to torture me?”

Reflection in the mirror was dressed in worn out panties and a dirty white jersey. It was unshaven, unkempt and smelly, with reddish hangover eyes, a low forehead and greasy, rare hair. Sure enough, it hated everyone and everything.

“What a nice day!” Z greeted him. “You look gorgeous. How did you sleep?”

Reflection belched, scratched the crotch and suddenly disappeared, giving way to the smart middle-aged gentleman. The gentleman had nice pink cheeks, pearly teeth and wonderful silky curls falling over his shoulders. For all that, Z was easily recognized in both reflections.

“Right from “Hairy Fairy” barbershop,” explained the gentleman carelessly. “It“s right there, around the corner and to the right. Highly, highly recommend.”

The gentleman half-turned, showing his profile and shrugged his shoulders.

“The suit, by the way, is from “H&M&S&on”,” he added. “Oxford-street, two minutes from…”

“Get out!” snapped Z, and the gentleman disappeared.

Mirror, having completed the trick, finally let reflection of Z himself to the surface.

 “Many thanks!” Z said.

“You are welcome. Have a nice day!” answered the mirror. “And do not forget: happy man is not one who earns a lot, but one who spends a lot!”

“I do remember!” Z snapped.

And, yes, there was hardly a man in the world capable of forgetting the main slogan of the millennium. Nobody had that many money to use goods entirely without built-in advertising.

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