Turkey Day (Team Necromancer)
James: Where is it?
Sam: Specifics and context, please.
Ramon: What he said.
James: The turkey. WHERE IS THE TURKEY?
Sam: You’re asking the vegetarian?
Ramon: You better not be asking the were bear.
Ramon: Because speciesism is wrong.
Sam: I now suspect Ramon of turkey theft.
James: I will poison you both.
Ramon: Poison us with LOVE.
Sam: We’re dead.
James: Your compatriots are useless.
Frank: Good morning, James.
James: Do you know where the turkey might be?
Frank: We got a pet turkey?!?
Frank: Hide it from the gnomes or they’ll ride it.
James …
Sam: Why is he so riled up about the turkey?
Sam: Side note- did you eat the turkey?
Ramon: It’s Thanksgiving aka Turkey Day. And no.
Sam: I call it Mashed Potato Day.
Ramon: Of course you do, hippie.
Sam: Can’t we just have dinner without the turkey?
Sam: Does anyone care that much?
Ramon: Need I remind you that there will be several werewolves attending?
Sam: …we better see if any stores are open. Just in case.
Frank: I asked the gnomes about the turkey.
James: And?
Frank: They haven’t seen it.
Frank: But they now want turkeys so they can patrol the yard “in style.”
James: NO.
Frank: They’re threatening to strike if they don’t get turkeys.
James: I don’t have time for this.
Sam: Where did you last see the turkey?
James: On the kitchen counter in the roasting pan.
James: I had just taken it out of the brine.
James: I left it alone for two minutes.
Sam: Any chance it could have just walked off on its own?
James: Dinner is in six hours. SIX HOURS.
James: No, the turkey didn’t just “walk off.”
James: It was very, very, dead. Dead, plucked, gutted, and brined.
Sam: Like being dead means anything in this house.
Ramon: I think I found the turkey.
James: Thank heavens.
Sam: Settle a bet for us—did it walk off on it’s own?
Ramon: You’re not going to like it.
Ramon: And no.
James: What does that mean?
Sam: I bet I could make it dance. Party trick!
Ramon: Taco got it.
James: What do you mean exactly?
Ramon: I mean that a pygmy chupacabra is currently sprinting across the lawn.
Ramon: He is quite speedy despite dragging a turkey twice his weight.
Ramon: Little guy is just flying across the grass.
Sam: Pictures or it didn’t happen.
Ramon: the festive sweater is a nice touch.
James: Get it away from him!
Ramon: Trust me, you don’t want it back.
Sam: James is crying in the kitchen.
Sam: It’s not even 10 AM.
Sam: He’s sobbing into a cloth napkin.
Brid: Oh my.
Sam: The dining room looks like Pinterest threw up.
Brid: Is that why he’s crying?
Sam: Taco ate the turkey.
Brid: That is going to be one fat, sleepy chupacabra later.
Sam: If James lets him live.
Brid: Want me to bring a turkey?
Sam: You just have an extra one hanging about?
Brid: Werewolves, Sam. Of course we do.
Sam: <3
Sam: Brid is bringing a turkey.
James: Forget turkey. I’m serving Taco.
Sam: Put the cleaver down, James.
James: Even if she speeds, we don’t have time.
James: Dinner will be very late.
James: Thanksgiving is ruined.
James: Unless you resurrect it?
Sam: No one wants a zombie turkey.
James: What if—
Sam: No. Brid is bringing a turkey and a deep fryer.
Sam: She says it’s faster. Dinner will be on time.
Sam: James?
Sam: James?!?
James: You are going to deep fry a turkey?
Sam: I’m mostly going to supervise.
James: I’m going to go check all of the fire extinguishers.
Sam: That would probably be for the best.