The Thanksgiving Turkey that Carved up the Guests

I really enjoy the movie Krampus.  There's something about an evil version of Santa exacting vengeance on a world consumed by materialism and greed that I find fascinating.  In thinking about Krampus this year, and about how Thanksgiving could have its own horror and exact vengeance on family members consumed with negativity and rudeness...I created a Krampus in a Thanksgiving turkey...which can be shipped to you online from the evil corporate service Babylon.  I hope you enjoy the story about how this Turkey brought peace to a family plagued by their annoying family members.

-KH

Thanksgiving is always so busy at our house.  Mom and dad are making the food while my baby brother keeps licking the bowls that I want to lick from yummy desserts that are being made.  Then there’s the cat that keeps jumping onto the table over and over again knocking over things or stealing food after it’s set out.  And it doesn’t matter that I hit it with my nerf gun…it just hisses at me and runs away…only to return again later.

Then there’s the phone calls of family members that keep calling to ask directions even though they’ve been to our house a kajillion times.  Sometimes I think they just like to hear their own voices speak or think that they’re important.

There was one thing different though about this year than others…and that was that my father ordered a Turkey online through the service Babylon.  Babylon…everyone was saying that Babylon was taking over the market of retailers and taking away people’s jobs…that it was evil and un-American…bla bla bla.  I honestly couldn’t care less as long as we ate.

The Turkey showed up at our door the next day after it was ordered.  It came in a giant foil bag that looked like it rustled a bit…no…that can’t be.  Did I hear a growl coming from inside?  No…that can’t be either.

My dad picked it up off the porch and took it inside.

“This is a special Turkey!”, he announced proudly as he got it out of the foil package and placed it on the cutting board.

It definitely was special.  Instead of being wrapped in blue and yellow plastic wrapping, it was wrapped in black.  And there were strange symbols written all over the bag.  After he cut off the bag…there was this strange sound which came out of it…like the sound you might hear after an archaeologist opens an ancient tomb.  It also was a rough looking Turkey…like something you’d see in a Viking movie…very muscular and angled instead of smooth and rounded.

“Dear…can you be a dear and spice this Turkey well before it’s put in the oven?”

“Sure darling…” my mother said.  I was curious, so I watched my mother baste it and sprinkle it with various spices…and finally stuff it with rosemary and an orange that she stabbed a couple times with a knife.  She then said what sounded like an incantation to “bless” the Turkey…and I distinctly thought I heard the names of our family members that were coming to join us later that day.  I asked her why she did that and why she said our family’s names…and she said it was so the Turkey would nourish well the ones that partook of it.  ‘Why didn’t we bless last year’s Turkey like this?’, I thought.

After the spicing and the blessing…my father placed it in the preheated oven.  And then he set the timer for 6 hours..as the suggested cooking time called for.

5 hours later…after watching A Christmas movie, playing board games, and finishing up dinner preparations…the knocks started at the door.  My extended family had arrived.

There was Aunt Josie, who dressed like the 70s never ended, with a hairdo and thick rimmed glasses to match.  Ugh…and she also had a habit of criticizing my mother over and over again…which my mother secretly detested…but tried not to show.

Then there was Uncle Gary (my dads brother) and his wife Marsha…who was actually his second wife and could care less about the kids she inherited from Gary’s first marriage…Tommy and Lucy.  And Tommy and Lucy…well…because of the lack of affection they received from either Gary or Marsha…they were just mean.  Every year I have to hide the cat from them because they like to torture it.

My grandfather on my mother’s side came next.  Buddy was his name.  Balding…wearing clothes that looked like they were cool in the 50s…and on his arm was his much younger wife Candy.  Buddy's antics since he met Candy and brought her to our home would be that he'd say he wanted a ‘bite of Candy’ and would chase her around the room like a child.  My mother hated this and told him not to do that ‘in front of the kids’…and her sister would just tell her to ‘lighten up’ and ‘leave dad alone’ and this always ended with my mother storming out of the room and seeking comfort from Dad.

“It will be over in a few hours…” he’d say.  This year though…he gave my mother a long assured stare…with a slight grin that my mother reciprocated.  ‘What did that mean?’, I wondered.

Finally…my grandmother Bea (short for Beatrice) arrived.  From my fathers side.  I loved my grandmother.  Her husband had passed  away a few years ago, but she remained and as she did all her life, spread joy and happiness to her friends and especially my father and mother who she adored.  She also cared about me and my little brother…she'd make us sweaters at Christmas and bring us candy (without Tommy and Lucy seeing).  “Bad kids don’t deserve candy”, she’d say to me and my brother in private.  I also had fond memories of her taking us on car rides on Sundays when we visited her house.

I also thought it was strange that my mother hadn’t mentioned her name during the Turkey blessing. If anyone deserved a blessing it was my grandmother Bea.  I was going to ask my mother why when my father entered the living room where most of them were and announced that dinner was ready.

“It’s about time”, criticized Aunt Josie

“Great!”, shouted Papaw Buddy…”After dinner…I can’t wait for some Candy!”  And Candy giggled in front of him as he chased her to the table.

Gary and Marsha just got up and went to the table.  Telling Tommy and Lucy to “Stop torturing the cat and come to dinner.”  Of course they came…it was free food that they didn’t have to work for.

Then went Bea…calmly and nobly..,smiling as she walked.  

Words like an ax about to fall.  My father was known for making speeches at Thanksgiving.  And typically everyone would roll their eyes till he was done.  This years speech was different though.  It was if his words conveyed in them an air of finality…as if he were trying to say…enjoy this meal because it will be your last.

The words that really got me were… “Thank you all for coming.  I hope you enjoy the Turkey this year.  I’m sure it will enjoy you.”  And then my father flashed a wicked grin as he placed the Turkey on the center of the table and lifted the lid.

What happened next was a blur with screams and blood.  I thought perhaps I was living a nightmare because I saw the Turkey animate and come out of its pot…and it grew eyes where the breasts were and it’s wings grew out enough to pick up the nearest kitchen knife (which my mother had laid by) and starting going after the guests.  A large mouth with sharp teeth appeared just above its thighs and as it jumped around the room, it’s stuffing flew from the cavity between its legs.

It first went for Buddy and Candy…growling and stabbing Buddy in the chest.  Candy…who tried to protect him was slashed across the neck…falling in a pool of blood beside him.  I couldn’t help but think that Buddy kind of looked funny with his balding head and look of shock on his face when he died.

Next was Aunt Josie whose last words in criticism were…”This dinner is terrible!  You can never get things right sister!” She said this right after the Turkey had finished Candy and thrown the knife across the room and it made a ‘shkkk’ sound as it lodged into her head.  Plunk…she fell over dead.

Gary and Marsha were harder to get at.  They had retreated into the living room and thrown down the coffee table to use as a shield…while Tommy and Lucy were throwing at the Turkey what they could to keep it away from them.

“What is this madness Brother?” Gary yelled as Marsha starting calling 911.  It was then that the Turkey let out a loud shriek…so loud that everyone’s cell phone shattered and couldn’t be used.

“This has been brewing for years brother!  I’ve had enough of this family and the negativity you all bring.  This year I want a peaceful Thanksgiving that lasts forever.  And to me that means you all need to go!”

And go they did…it was easy for the Turkey to deflect objects thrown at it and jump over the coffee table to my terrified aunt, uncle, and children.  Within minutes, the Turkey made short work of them…carving into them till the life drained from their faces.

And then it was quiet.  Eerily quiet,  And the Turkey just stood there, breathing heavily and holding the bloodied knife…looking down on its progress.  The knife then fell from its hand and it turned around to look at us…it’s angry face turning into a smile and the eyes and mouth slowly disappearing as it eventually fell lifeless onto the ground.

Then my mother picked it up, washed it off, and served it to my father, my brother and I, and Bea…who sat there the whole time peacefully and watching as the scene unfolded…as if she was in on it with my parents.

And we enjoyed the most peaceful Thanksgiving ever that I can remember.  Even the cat was more peaceful.  We all realized too that the only closeness we needed to our family was their blood splatter on our clothes.

“We should clean up later dear…”. My mother said to my father after we all finished.

Cleanup…my not so favorite part of Thanksgiving.  This years cleanup, for sure, would be involved and interesting.

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