It's been a couple of days now, and the enormity of our (FO pilots) screwing is just beginning to sink in.  After 5+ years of grinding our faces into the dirt with fire-sale wages, worn out equipment, and Nextant Franken-jets, our parent company just spent 185 mil to buy a competing fractional, and pledged to spend another 5.2 billion to make it the classiest, most modern fleet in the industry.  For the first time ever, I literally couldn't eat last night, my food stuck in my throat.
To paraphrase that great old quote by Clark Griswold in Christmas Vacation:
"Hey! If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I  have one. I'd like Kenn Ricci, my boss, right here tonight. I want  him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there in Cleveland  with all the other rich people and I want him brought right here, with a  big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I  want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing,  low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant,  blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless,  fat-azz, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of  monkey sh1t he is! Hallelujah! Holy sh1t! Where's the Tylenol?"