(We will tell a story) Tell a story (Tellastorytellastorytellastorytellastory)

A friend of mine (Yes, YES we have friends, dammit,) invites me over to his house for Thanksgiving dinner (we have friends! Damn you for implying otherwise!) I sit around the table as turkey is served (so is Tofurkey, the Tofu Turkey. We hates!). Conversation begins as everyone describes what they have done lately. (Everyone talks. I do not talk to anyone. I do not know anyone.) Excluding the friend. (He was talking to someone else. Alone are we! Alone!)

My friend's uncle eventually turns to me and says "So," (SO!), "what are you into?" I swallowed before I answered him (Answered:) "I am into being frozen and eaten by small children."

The table went silent. (What did we say that was wrong? We merely answered! I merely answered! Silence!) His grandmother began to choke softly on some yams (she should have swallowed before I answered. We swallowed before I answered. Silence!) My friend's eyes connected with me. He will never invite another frozen treat to a holiday again, he told me later. (Never!) Absolute dead silence. (Absolute!) (Dead!) (Silence!)

Eventually, after Grandma stopped choking (The yams came back up eventually), I asked my friend's uncle what he was into. "Melting sick bastards," he responded.

(We wonder what he was referring to.)

Whatever it was, the rest of the table seemed to also be into it. (I was enjoying the cranberry sauce. We love.) I finished my dinner. (We give thanks for not eating cold Chef Boyardee out of the can for another Thanksgiving.) They watched me. (Intent, they were. Intent.) When I left, the door slammed shut behind me. (Slosh!) No. (Slam!) Yes. (Slam! The door went slam behind us!) The door slammed.

I cannot wait until Christmas. (We love.)