Oath of Office
George Santos to be sworn into the 117th Congress — his classmates at Horace Mann High School, Baruch College and NYU Stern School of Business would be so proud, if they existed.
I, George Santos, alias Anthony Santos, alias Anthony Zabrovsky, alias Anthony Devolder, seasoned Wall Street financier and investor, do solemnly swear on the souls of my late Bubbe and Zayde, who perished in the Holocaust or possibly in Brazilian Catholic hospitals in the 1980s, that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, especially those that smear me with outrageous allegations designed to harm my reputation and destroy America.
I swear that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, except for a brief hiatus for film production, as I will be the next James Bond in the upcoming Zero Places at Once, a thriller inspired by my exploits as CIA director of counterintelligence under George W. Bush and commander of NASA’s secret manned voyage to Neptune (two-hour layover at Atlanta Hartsfield). The producers were also impressed by my much-lauded title role in the Royal Shakespeare Company’s 2015 production of Othello and my breakout success as TV’s AT&T girl. All of my acting earnings went to my pet charity. Literally, my pet charity, Friends of Pets United. (Our motto: “We Don’t Exist.”) As an expert in the oil and gas industry, I have visited all 6,000 countries of the world, plus Long Island City on many occasions. While on a brief medical leave with a brain tumor, I invented cheese.
I am proudly gay, but owe a great debt for the support in those endeavors to my late former spouse, Ruth Devolder Ginsberg. I am equally indebted to the gentlemen who were the last clients of the sprawling, lucrative Devolder Organization, who paid my consulting firm $700,000 to take care of a thing for a guy. I would give you the names, but, unfortunately, all the records were destroyed in the Myanmar earthquake on New Year’s Day, which inflicted heavy damage from Rangoon to Queens. I swear to God. Not only the God of my People, but also the God of my real People.
I swear that I take this obligation freely, although I had to lend my campaign $700,000, which was nothing for me considering my vast Wall Street connections and customer-service work for the Dish Network. My mother, who both shattered the glass ceiling as a top New York banking executive and washed the parquet floors as a non-English-speaking cleaning woman, and who unfortunately was lost on 9/11 and also 15 years later, came through for me as well and I know she is so very proud. Or would be. Had she not so tragically passed. Every now and then.
I swear that I take this oath without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, such as, for example, inventing my history out of whole cloth in order to win an election, because who would vote for a petty chiseler who can’t hold down a job or cover the rent? To so connive, deceive and evade, after all, would be to shame and offend both the rank-and-file and leadership of my own cherished Republican party, which would disclaim me, unseat me and shun me for my insult to the voters’ trust and the sanctity of true and fair elections.
As such, I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter, now that I have traded my Speaker vote for Kevin McCarthy in exchange for certain considerations that a man of honor such as I shall never disclose. Unless asked in front of a Grand Jury, and who knows what that answer will be.
So help me God.