It’s been a dour week leading up to Christmas in the Gaetz household; even on a good day Rep. Gaetz and his strikingly tall head make him look to be a construct being piloted by an alien a la Men in Black or some kind of Floridian Frankenstein. But now that the House Ethics Committee report on his less than legal appetites have been released to the wide world…well, it’s enough to make a guy believe Santa isn’t real and that Christmas is just another day.
As Gaetz sleepwalks through the days ahead of the holiday he finds himself in a funk that not even slapping his wife around can temper. After retiring early to bed on Christmas Eve he offers one last refrain to the heavens above, looking for a sign of some higher power or Christmas miracle to restore his constitution and faith. Suddenly his windows burst open, and a familiar voice calls to him. As he squints toward the light suddenly beaming into his bedroom he feels someone grasping his hand and telling him to come along on a whirlwind tour of christmases past, the good old days when housewives would tend to the entertaining without expecting their husbands’ help and the kids would just shut the fuck up and play with their teddy bears while the husbands enjoyed a snifter of brandy and a cigar in sitting rooms together.
“Hold on to my hand Matt- we’re going to take them back- together; for everyone. But mostly us.”