“Puny Speaker,” Christie concluded, stomping away. (Ricky Carioti/Washington Post)

The person I feel sorriest for in all this is whoever has to check House Speaker John Boehner’s voice mails.

Boehner did not move the Sandy relief bill to the floor Tuesday night, and — well, he’s angered New Jersey.

Chris Christie, in a press conference Wednesday afternoon, let Boehner have it. He called Congress “toxic.” “Shame on you,” he said. “Shame on Congress.”

In the brief bursts between emitting barbaric yawps, setting things on fire with his mind, and causing all the cutlery to rattle in neighboring states, Christie let loose on Congress with all the fury of a storm-ravaged state scorned. People kept worrying that he was about to turn green and expand several stories in height, in spite of Christie’s repeated reassurances that his secret was “I’m always angry.”

According to Christie, Congress is comprised in great part of “know-nothings” who are sacrificing the needs of Real Americans to “toxic internal politics.”

“Americans are tired of the palace intrigue and political partisanship of this Congress,” he continued, pausing to scream loudly for a solid minute and light a small straw effigy of the speaker on fire.

“Shame on you. Shame on Congress,” Christie said, unleashing the Rancor from its basement lair in Secaucus and sending it rampaging through Capitol Hill.

Compared to Christie, Django seemed to be exercising admirable restraint.

In the course of the tirade, Christie let slip that he had called Boehner not once, but four times, Tuesday night – and Boehner had not answered.

So I pity whoever answers Boehner’s voice mails.

“Hi, John, this is Chris. Just calling to check in on that Sandy aid you were so ready to act on.”

“John? John, Gov. Christie here. Just checking in to make sure we’re still on for tonight.”

“JOHN I’M SERIOUS I WILL END YOU.”

“[Unprintable stream of oddly specific curses] goat [expletive] [expletive] potted plants [unprintable] [not even sure what this word means] unlike Eric Cantor who has been very good through this whole process, you [rude Klingon phrase].”

Watching this, I wondered what it was like dating Christie in college. Wednesday’s interlude conjured up harrowing visions of Christie in a sensible fleece with “Senior” on the lapel, calling press conferences in the cafeteria. “SEVEN TIMES I TELEPHONED YOU, JESSICA,” he shouts. “AND NOTHING! SHAME! THE PROCESS IS BROKEN!”

But Christie does have a point. He has a tendency to say what everyone else is thinking, but much louder. Most Americans are unsure what exactly Congress does, but we are pretty sure we disapprove of it. It seems to put out a lot of legislation and yelling, and not much else. This week, Congress was held hostage by a rogue metaphor and something tangible — namely, Sandy aid — got temporarily shelved in consequence.

Christie was so angry that in the course of the press conference, several people who had nothing whatsoever to do with the fiscal cliff deal came running in off the street overcome with guilt and committed seppuku at his feet.

How dare Congress kick this can down the road, into the distant, remote, far reaches of the 113th Congress, which starts …tomorrow.

Still, it’s been too long.

Christie ended the speech by calling down plagues of darkness, frogs and locusts throughout Boehner’s land, guaranteeing Justin Bieber a long and fruitful career and announcing his personal endorsement of everyone’s primary opponents, although he made a brief exception for Eric Cantor, who was at least nice enough to return his calls.

“This is why the American people hate Congress,” he said, going on to note that he and  Gov. Cuomo were frustrated because “Unlike people in Congress, we have actual responsibilities.”

Ouch. 

All in all, it was a presser that will go down in history (which is to say, everyone on Twitter will be very excited about it this afternoon and then it will vanish from our collective memory forever, until Christie runs for president and it is used against him).

Alexandra Petri writes the ComPost blog, offering a lighter take on the news and opinions of the day.