Thanksgiving PreGaming Text Convo (Team Necromancer)

Pre-Gaming Thanksgiving

James: My phone has been suspiciously silent.

Sam: How so?

Ramon: Aww, are you sad that I haven’t been sending you sweet nothings this morning? Or pictures of pie?

James: Usually this is about the time one of you messages me to tell me Taco ate the turkey, or the gnomes did something horrible.

Sam: We do have a bit of a reputation, it’s true.

James: But the turkey is in the oven. The vegetarian roast is cooking, the sides are prepped and ready.

Sam: And once again the dining room looks like Pinterest had a baby with Martha Stewart. Those are Brooke’s words, not mine.

Ramon: Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask, why do our plates have their own slightly larger plates? Are they lonely?

James: They’re called chargers.

Ramon: Why do they exist? To be pretty? Are they the Ramon of plates?

Sam: Awww, you bring more to the table than that, hot stuff.

Ramon: Thanks, Gorgeous.

James: They’re supposed to help keep the meal warm as well as protect the table from hot dishes.

Ramon: …and?

James: *sighs* and to look pretty.

Sam: They are very pretty.

Ramon: Let me get this straight, though—you’re upset because everything is fine?

James: I don’t trust it.

Sam: I actually totally get this. It’s suspiciously quiet.

Ramon: Oooh, yeah, like when you’re watching little kids and all of a sudden there’s no noise. It’s ominous.

Sam: Maybe I should check on the gnomes.

James: Please do.

*

Sam: Okay, I’ve got a classic good news, bad news situation.

James: Wait, let me get the antacids.

Ramon: See, this is why I got you the jumbo container for your birthday. You really go through those.

Sam: I can’t imagine why.

Ramon: I should get some more for James’ stocking.

James: Okay. I’m ready.

Sam: So, the good news is that the gnomes weren’t quiet because they were causing trouble. The bad news is they already caused the trouble. They found the root beer.

James: Oh god.

Ramon: Why is this bad? Don’t they get into root beer all the time? It’s part of their pay, right?

Sam: James got them a keg for the holidays. They drank all of it. In one morning. Or possibly last night.

James: I got them two kegs. I knew I should have waited, but the brewery gave me a discount for ordering early…

Sam: Well, from the looks of the place, I would guess they got into both kegs.

James: I’m going to need more antacids.

Sam: We’re going to need a hose and a wet vac. And possibly a priest. Do priests still do exorcisms?

Sam: Who would have thought the gnomes to have had so much puke in them?

Ramon: If you’re misquoting Macbeth, it must be bad.

Sam: I’m laughing and crying. And taking incriminating photos.

James: Which room did they destroy?

Ramon: Incriminating photos do nothing. The gnomes have no shame.

Sam: The gnome barracks. And the incriminating photos are for Frank.

James: We haven’t finished construction on the gnome barracks. The inside isn’t finished!

Sam: Which is good. It will be easier to clean.

Ramon: The gnome barracks will be the new party house. How bad off is Frank?

Sam: For some reason Frank has a beanbag chair duct taped to his stomach.

Sam: Which is a real shame considering he’s naked.

Ramon: Ooooh, that tape is going to hurt coming off.

Sam: Yup.

Ramon: Wait, if they were drinking root beer, why is Frank passed out?

Sam: He got into someone’s cider.

James: …Frank drank my cider?

Ramon: Oh, boy.

Sam: Frank is a dead man.

James: Okay, we’ll need to divide and conquer. Ramon, deal with Frank. Sam will hose off the gnomes outside before we let them into the house to bathe.

Sam: Dude, it’s 40 degrees out.

James: I don’t care. Company will be here in an hour, and I will not have them be greeted by the gnome version of the Hangover.

Ramon: Harsh, but fair.

James: Once they’re clean, they can scrub down the barrack floors.

Ramon: Aren’t you afraid to give the gnomes access to both a hose and a wet vac?

James: It’s their barracks. If they destroy it, then they have to live with it. But we can have Brooke supervise them.

Sam: I’ll tell Brooke.

James: In the meantime, I need you to send me the photo of Frank.

Ramon: What are you going to do with it?

James: I’m going to get an oil painting rendition of it done and frame it. We’ll hang it in the barracks.

Sam: I can’t tell if that’s going too far or not.

James: My cider was labeled, Sam. It literally had my name on it. It was a special batch from a local brewery, and I was saving it for dinner tonight to share with our guests.

Ramon: Yeah, Frank’s lucky you’re not printing flyers of it and handing it out at the door.

Sam: We could tuck it under the chargers.

James: You will do no such thing.

Ramon: Fiiiiiine.

James: Enough. We have a lot of gnomes to hose down and a limited amount of time to do it.

Ramon: Not a sentence you read every day.

James: And now I’m out of antacids. I’ll see if Haley can bring some over.

Ramon: I’m definitely getting you some for your stocking. Santa’s got you covered, baby.

*

Frank: Does anyone know why I’m duct taped to a beanbag chair? Or where we got a beanbag chair?

Ramon: I don’t know, but we’re going to have fun finding out.