Ann Coulter: A Christmas Love Story

This is the world Ann Coulter fought for.

Christmas 2018. Not that you’d know it; the War on Christmas had officially been won. Now December was a wasteland of Happy Holidays and good cheer and presents without religion. Red and green were seen together for the Holiday Season, not Christmas. People bought trees — for the holidays, not for Christmas.

Kids went home to see the folks, for holiday break, not Christmas.

It was a mockery of everything America used to stand for. The freedom-loving, Jesus-hating socialists had finally won, and Christmas-lovers everywhere were now a persecuted minority. (They always had been, of course, but you could really feel it this time around.)

Ann seethed. She loved Christmas like she loved all the things she chose to love — unreservedly, passionately, and without an ounce of reason to get in her way. She was trying to push the newest form of tax reform on the news circuit, explaining that they needed to drill in the arctic circle in order to fund the freeloaders Rubio insisted on supporting.

Children, Ann scoffed to herself. People who had them always complained. What she wouldn’t give for a child of her own. Despite being one of the most successful women in her field, what she really wanted was a family.

It’s what all women wanted.

She just never had any luck in the love department. Her can-do attitude and ambition scared them off. And the ones who appreciated a strong woman were usually meek. She had no patience for that.

Ann looked at the time. Crap. She was going to be late for her TV panel spot. She left her dressing room, rushed over and, in her hurry, accidentally bumped into a man backstage. A large, muscled, man’s man about manning, who looked at her with a cocked eyebrow.

“Sorry about that,” Ann said. Ann, a big proponent of taking personal responsibility, knew she had a standard to hold herself up to.

“No worries. It’s Christmas, after all.”

She gulped. A man who still celebrated Christmas? And worked out? And wore suits? Who was this creature?

“Yes! It is. Merry Christmas.”

He nodded and walked on. She pulled herself together and made it to set. She sat down in her seat and looked over at the smiling hosts. A man and a woman. What were their names? Who cares? Ann never did. And across from her was another guest that she couldn’t make out – the lights were too bright.

Finally, it was showtime. The lights dimmed. And there he was! The manly man man who also loved Christmas. Was it fate? Was it Jesus? Was it a Christmas miracle?

“Thanks for coming, Chris,” the host said to the man. Chris. Now she knew.

“Of course. I just love Christmas so much, and I can’t imagine not fighting for it with my dying breath. Nothing in this world is more important than Christmas. I wish people understood that.”

“I agree 100%,” Ann piped up. “Why don’t people understand that? Why do non-Christians hate Christmas so much?”

“Snowflakes,” Chris said.

“So wonderful to see a man who understands the importance of Christmas,” Ann replied. “And who also understands how terrible snowflakes are.”

“How are you still single, Ann?”

“Are you hitting on me?” she flirted.

“We’re on air,” the hosts reminded them.

“Where are you going after this? Your family? Women love families and hate being single.”

“Oh, no, actually. I am alone, living an empty life of quiet desperation, and will die that way.”

“Not so fast, Ann. I’m a man man who wants to marry you because Christmas. Will you give up your job and raise my children while very little of my own life changes because I’m uncomfortable around the kids I apparently want to have? Also, we’ll get married.”

In the world Ann Coulter fought for, this was the most romantic proposal a woman could ever want. Traditional values that upheld sexist standards that pushed women into making choices between career and family while allowing men to have both was worth fighting for. Worth dying for. And if she could share her passion with a strong, handsome man who also loved Christmas?

Could she have it all?

“Yes,” she responded. “A thousand times, yes.”

He walked over and leaned in for a kiss and she responded enthusiastically. Everyone in the world applauded and Christmas was saved and here to stay so deal with it, commies.

It was truly a Christmas miracle.

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