Taking a Gobbler to the Face
"What are our plans for Thanksgiving"? Madge asked.
Bisket looked a bit taken back since Madge has always spent the holiday with 'the boys' smoking, drinking, and playing cards.
"I was thinking of getting a big ol' bird, making some fixings, and relaxing watching the game."
"What's the catch?" Bisket eyed Madge, knowing that bitch always had a card up her sleeve.
40 minutes later.
"I fucking knew it," Bisket looks up at a barn that's seen better days, with the doors open and hundreds of turkeys derping about in the yard.
She tiptoes through the clots of turkey shit into the migrating flock of gobblers.
As they wander through the flock, Madge explains that Mikey lost his hand in the military, and after his honorable discharge, he thought farming would be a nice change. Bisket was surprised to hear that Madge helped get the land the farm was sitting on. Madge lights a cigarette. "Which one do you want for Thanksgiving, kid?" Madge motions at the turkeys.
"Well, this mother clucker will do," Bisket points to the bird untying her shoes again. Madge produces an ax from her Chanel purse and hands it to Bisket. "You've got to be joking, Madge."
"That's up to you, Bisket. Are we going to eat it, or will you feed it?"
Bisket takes her eyes off the road to change the radio station, "I was wondering what..."
"WATCH IT, BISKET," Madge screams; Bisket slams on the brakes as glass shards fill the front seats.
"I'll call AAA if you call Mikey and tell him we found another bird." Bisket hands Madge her cell phone and her flask of bourbon.
Happy Thanksgiving, kids.