Michael comes bursting out of his office, claiming to be Jesus Christ to remind everyone of the true meaning of Christmas. Angela applauds. She's the only one, of course. "Wow, Michael, it must be obvious how wrong this is," Toby says in amazement, which just gets him branded the Antichrist.
Andy asks Phyllis not to tell Erin he's her Secret Santa. Phyllis is only too happy to pin it on Michael.
During the party, Pam awkwardly introduces Oscar to Matt, clumsily trying to forge a relationship based on how much Matt likes the paté Oscar made. "How come the good ones are never straight, right?" "Okay, Pam," Oscar says. "Yes, they're the only two gay guys I know," Pam THs. "But they should be together." Oh, Pam.
Phyllis is handing out gifts, and when Dwight is excited to get another component, Michael drones into the karaoke microphone, "Oh, yes, it's space garbage! Dwight's going to be able to build himself a friend. Deck the halls with crappy gi-ifts..." When it's Stanley's turn and Phyllis says he's been a good boy, Michael points out the part about cheating on is wife. "Adultery's a sin." Stanley opens scented candles. "That's appropriate. A lot of fire where you're going... Going to hell, Stanley." Angela gives that an amen, but Michael can't bother to turn his head to see her open her gift of fabric. "That's fantastic, you can make another dress that goes past your feet." Why can't regular Michael be as funny as angry Michael? Angela wonders if it was Andy, and Michael blurts that Andy had Erin. Jim shuts off the microphone, about five minutes too late, and Michael stomps into his office.
Michael gets David Wallace on the phone to complain about how "a woman has uslurped my role as Santa." Wallace says this "a very, very bad time." He tells his assistant, Stephanie to jump off the call, and Michael hears Erin offering to do the same from reception. Now that it's just the two of them, Wallace tells Michael that the company is going to be sold and cleaned out. Wallace is going to be fired, and so is Alan. It's going to be a complete housecleaning. "Goodbye, Michael," David says. Dude, way to harsh Michael's holiday bout of self-pity.
Michael does a pensive TH, having changed out of his costume and into a sweatshirt: "Earlier today this office needed a Santa. And then it needed a second Santa. And then it needed a Jesus. And now, it needs a Michael." Wow, things really are desperate.
Michael wanders more humbly into the bullpen and asks how everyone's doing. "Not great," Jim says. "You heckled Santa for an hour and a half." Okay, I stand corrected; Jim did not shut off the microphone five minutes too late. Michael blames "hurt, petulant Jesus" for ruining the party, and sends Dwight off with his debit card to get some pizzas, "discreetly" hinting that his PIN number is "YMCA," in a way that everyone gets except Dwight.