You write a hilarious tweet ripping William Henry Harrison, who died just 32 days after taking office. After clicking send, you shake your head sadly. Losers, losers, losers. Why has the presidency been plagued by so many losers?
Eventually, Reince gets tired of waiting for you to respond to his question about the briefing from the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and wanders off. The red phone stops ringing, and you are left alone with your thoughts. These revolve around William Henry Harrison.
“William Henry Harrison, William Henry Harrison,” you say aloud to the empty room. “William Henry Harrison.” With that third utterance, there is a puff of blue smoke in the center of the room. When it dissipates, a ghostly figure stands before you, dressed in 19th century fashion. It’s William Henry Harrison! Or at least that’s what you assume, from context.
“I am William Henry Harrison,” he says. As you’re thinking to yourself, “I knew it was Harrison, I really do have one of the best brains,” the phantom president continues. “President Trump, because of a curse cast upon me by the powerful sorcerer Martin Van Buren, I am doomed to haunt the White House for eternity, and to serve each president by granting them one wish per term.”
You scratch your chin. “What do presidents usually wish for?”
Harrison’s ghost shrugs. “Re-election. But I never grant them a third term, because even as a ghost I am bound by my presidential oath to protect and defend the Constitution.”
You roll your eyes. During your oath of office to protect and defend the Constitution you kept your fingers crossed, because you still haven’t forgiven the Constitution for allowing itself to be waved around by that Pakistani guy at the Democratic National Convention.
“Well, Harrison, I’m not going to wish for re-election because I haven’t even decided whether we’re going to have another election. Instead, I wish for…