My very dear Angela,
The attempt of the scalawags to undermine and remove from his post your brave General Paxton in their kangaroo court has failed, and we shall return to the people’s business in a mannerable way in the near future! We shan’t soon forget what they hath done, however, and should we prevail in the next stage of this skirmish betwixt the chambers, I suspect we may see that jackanapes Phelan in a buck and gag afore long. Lieutenant Patrick hath indicated that he and some parlor soldiers are already well on their way toward mounting such an offensive, having done much to curry favor with Mister Tim Dunn and the other financiers.
I’m certain that the struggle to which you were required to bear witness did indeed take its toll upon you, my wife, and for this I do hope that the wrath of the Almighty is visited upon those who pursued the opportunity to peacock about whilst you suffered. But you were not born in a wood to be scared by an owl, and the actions of a company of knucks shall not, I trust, cause you to abandon your loyalty. Those visits to the house of the Pearl Lantana, that apartment complex of my temptress, were infrequent, as we’ve discussed many, many times.
I’ve passed along your gratitude for the new state of the kitchen to our benefactor Mr. Paul in my latest missive to himself, especially the Samsung four-door fridge with Wi-Fi!
Your very mostly truly husband,
W. Kenneth Paxton Jr.
This article originally appeared in the January 2024 issue of Texas Monthly with the headline “Bum Steers of the Year.” Subscribe today.
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