The signs are all around us that Christmas time is here: the colorful lights, the nip in the air, the snowy white expanse of Adam Pally’s inner thigh slowly approaching your face. Over at Happy Endings, Penny is out one Santa for a holiday benefit event, and Max is desperate for the extra cash, begging to strap on the electronic jiggle belly despite his Judaism, hatred of holidays and distaste for children. “I love making extravagant promises I don’t have to fulfill,” he points out. “I have a giant lap, and I happen to look amazing in a chunky belt.” After being visited by the most adorable child in the world while on the job (The kid’s only wish after his mom’s car gets stolen? “To forgive the bad men who did it”) and saving Penny from a mugging (only to have the next person on the sidewalk get immediately mugged…priceless), Max’s heart grows three sizes as he recognizes that there is a decent human is lurking inside his focus burned skin. Well, not entirely decent. “This is the only store that has the kind of gay porn I like,” Max tells Penny, popping into a deli. “It’s called Bloody Guys. It’s British guys…covered in blood!”
After rolling around giggling in a bed full of money (“I love Indecent Proposal-ing with you!” Brad squeals) and dirtying up the place (Jane tossing baby carrots on the ground), Jane and Brad accidentally give their vacation dough to diligent housekeeper Gita instead of her Christmas bonus. “I’m going to call my sisters and tell them that you are good people,” Gita raves. Each attempt to retrieve the cash gets thwarted by Gita’s adorable nieces, her forgiveness of Brad and Jane’s secret filth drawer and her desire for “making bigger her cans,” her breasts having been put to use, um, breasting feeding her sistersokayanyway. Meanwhile, Dave cashes in every homemade coupon Alex ever gave him, from “Dinner And A DJ” to “Nibble Your Name Into An Ear Of Corn.” Because precisely biting each golden kernel to make a perfect Helvetica is the kind of gift that shows someone how much you really care.
Inevitably Brad and Jane steal back their vacay money, a crime for which Gita immediately blames new client Max. “You are as careless with your morals as you are with your underpants,” Gita chastises him. Luckily a white woman steps in and clears everything up, so no one had to go to jail. Instead, Gita takes Brad and Jane’s trip to Turks and Caicos, and Max reverts to his former cranky self. Sort of. Maybe the format of the Christmas episode wasn’t anything ground-breaking: everyone acts like an asshole until they realize the true meaning of winter, kick the cat poop and syringes out of their indoor beach party and realize that friends are the most wonderful gift of all. But isn’t that what the baby Jesus would have wanted in the and? That, and a sick go-kart from his salmon-eating, gout-having stepfather?