Terrorized Giving

It was a new idea, a new discovery, a new life to be brought. He looked outward, freshly baked. The backyard was beautiful hues of yellows and oranges, the trees were shedding leaves while the sun sets. He felt rejuvenated, this was something he’s never realize he needed.

He was a new pupil on this Earth, the embodiment of the holiday, the reason to give thanks. Turkey stepped out on his platter, smelling the basting he bathed in. He was a new start to a reason of peace, war, and love.

Turkey turned around, the chamber he was created in: the oven. He saw his enemy, Ham. Ham was masculine, handsome. He was just as handsome as Turkey was. He looked directly at Turkey, his eyes full of revenge. Ham wanted to become the ultimate Thanksgiving meal, the best and only meat to be consumed. He wore a sickening grin as the pan slid in. He was going to ensure that he is the only dinner, Turkey thought, he was planning to kill me.

Turkey was thrown off balance as the platter started moving. Turkey felt the bobbing of the Overlord’s steps, until finally a clink ended the travel. Turkey stood up, “He’ll pay. He won’t get rid of me so easily.” The feud of Turkey versus Ham as resurfaced for ages, generations in the family. The kids say Ham since they love the juiciness and honey basting. The adult voted for Turkey since they love the classic generational meal. Turkey was lucky enough to be the Thanksgiving entrée this year, of course Ham would be there to take the luck away. A war is to break out, no time’s notice.

“Hello!” A young girl enthusiastically greeted the huge man. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

This girl was drastically different to the man. She was short and obviously young. She wore a red plaid skirt with a tan long sleeved shirt. Her skin was pale, though this contrasted her hair and eyes drastically. Her hair was a red color while her eyes shined a deeper red. She looked cute and lively, though she stood so confident and proud. “My name’s Cranberry!”

Turkey looked at the girl, seeing the obvious difference between the two. “Cranberry?” He asked, who was she? It’s odd to be greeted like this, especially when you are royal to the pantry.

“Well, Cranberry Sauce.” Cranberry clarified, “My friends call me Berry for short. You know, if I had any friends.” Berry looked down in sadness, she gave a sniffle. Turkey bent down, making sure the girl didn’t start crying. Turkey was ready to prove a friendship, a little girl no doubt.

Turkey smiled, opening his mouth to answer the girl. “Berry!” A new voice came out, unusual. Turkey questioned if it was his, though obviously knew it was not. Turkey turned around to see a scrappy young teenager, at least a few years older than the little girl. “You can’t just keep leaving, we can’t keep up like you!” As he gotten closer, you can see his clothes were in rags and tears. His brown hair was part of the tanned skin. He panted his words, “Who’s he?”

Berry angrily looked at the boys then back at Turkey, “You guys weren’t supposed to catch me! What idiots.” She mumbled the second part under her breath.

“RaaAAA!” An echo of the teenager’s voice rang through the air. We all looked at the same direction the rags teen came from. A new figure, the same as this teenager. He charged directly at us, a book in his hand, “You two are so dead!” He ran up to us, showing a classier and richer look, however with he same face as the first boy. He ran into Turkey, stumbling on sight.

Turkey stood tall, terrifying all three kids. “Are you alright?” The tall giant calmly addressed at the teenage boys. He held his giant hand out for the teen to hold on to. He rejected the request.

“No, I am obviously not alright!” The boy stood up angrily, no help needed. He turned to the other teen, their faces looked identical, their hair was different though. “You need to stop looking through my books!”

The boy chuckled, “Cornbread, I think you’re as crazy as me.” He leaned on the so-called Cornbread and gestured, “No way could I, your twin brother, actually do such a thing.”

Cornbread smacked the teenager with his book, “Stuffing, you are a bumbling idiot.”

“Can you two leave already!” Berry yelled out, her small cute voice contrasting through the scruffy masculinity.

“Berry, you are still not off the hook. You know the weird turkey man is going to catch us again.” Stuffing assured.

Turkey perked at the phrasing, “Weird turkey man?” He asked the kids. “Who is this?”

“Besides you?” Cornbread rudely interrupted. Stuffing punched his brother in the arm, making him flinch.

“He’s on the other side of the table,” Stuffing went forward to guard Berry, “He stepped out of the oven a while ago, he was ready to force us into his kingdom.”

“That’s not turkey.” Turkey stated, “…that’s Ham.”

“Ham?” All three folk were interested in the oncoming danger approaching.

“Ham is out to become the one and only Thanksgiving dinner for the family to eat.”

“Why would he do such a bad thing?” Stuffing questioned.

Turkey sighed and looked at the long table, an empire building at the end of the table. “I don’t know, but I’m going to stop him.”

“You need a team!” Cranberry stepped forth and stood by Turkey, “I am willing to help!”

Stuffing went to grab her again, “We need to stay over here, we can’t risk going out.”

“No!” Berry argued back, “Let’s go out! Adventure! Ham needs to be stopped, and we are the ones to change the future!”

Turkey looked valiantly at the recruit, the teenage boys looked confused and scared. “Are you two in?”

Stuffing nodded, rushing by their side. “What?!” Cornbread shocking said, “You can’t be serious.”

“You can stay here if you want, but I need to make sure they are safe.” Stuffing assured.

Cornbread looked back then forth at the team forming, “I’m only going because you need my intelligence.” Stuffing smiled brightly at his brother’s words, rushing in for a hug. “Let go!”

“This is plenty.” Turkey said, relieved at the formation, “We are the future of Thanksgiving dinner!”

“Yes!” Cranberry happily yelled out.

“Definitely!” Stuffing smiled at the victorious creation.

“Sure.” Cornbread lamely said, glad at the new team.

“Let’s go.” Turkey stepped off his platter, stepping onto the tablecloth and venturing forth.

Ham, it’s time for the new rise of Thanksgiving.

Turkey will reclaim his throne.