This story rated T... for Turkey…:D


"Eww...ugggh…" Dean's face morphed to nausea and pity. It was never easy for Dean to admit defeat, but here it was in front of him. "Is it too much to ask for one thing to work today!" He screamed. Silently, he eyed his prey before drawing the machete. His eyes narrowed to slits, sizing up the challenge before him. Then as if he was possessed by the shower scene in Psycho, Dean reacted. The blade crunched into flesh and muscle repeatedly. Slowly, he returned to calm. "UGGHHH!" He screamed, looking down at his collasal, failed attempt at a Thanksgiving turkey.

No matter how he stabbed, the black charred skin and meat on the surface would only yield to the frozen meat within. "How the Hell do you burn the outside of a turkey, yet the inside is frozen!" He cursed aloud.

Normally that kind of yell would be great fodder for Sam or at least get him a raised eyebrow. Thankfully, he was alone. Well, just him and the most pitiful attempt at a Thanksgiving turkey ever. For weeks he had it all planned: Thanksgiving-a proper Thanksgiving- for Sam and him.

Now he had to get rid of the evidence before Sam saw the atrocity before him. However, he was too damn late. The front door swung open and a voice spilled in before the first stalky leg kicked the door open further. "Hey.. I got us some beer and…..uh…" Sam wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"

"Uh…. Something is wrong with the oven… it burned…!"

"What did you burn?"


"Is that a turk….key… a mutilated turkey?"

"I thought I could cut the black off."

"Why did you want to bake a turkey?"

"I thought it would be nice… just once…"

"I think your turkey can technically be labeled a lethal weapon."

Dean gave Sam a disappointed look. "It's just a turkey Sammy."

"It's disturbing." Sam said looking at a blackened, yet frozen mess.

Dean coughed slightly in embarrassment. "You ate my cooking plenty of times."

"I'm still in recovery."

"Funny… real laugh riot."

"And what's in the bowl?

"uh… stuffing?..." Dean admitted sheepishly.

"Why is it orange?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"And you do know that oven is unhooked? What did you use to cook this stuff with anyway?"

Dean coughed louder and mumbled. "blowtorch."

"Oh, you didn't… no... wait...of course, you did."


Sam realized he was having a bit too much fun at Dean's expense. "Come on… let's get something at the diner. They had a huge pumpkin pie in the window… My treat. Really!"

After a longing sigh, Dean nodded. "Stupid freakin frozen burnt turkey ruining my Thanksgiving…"

"Yeah... yeah… just do us both a favor… stick to fast food and things in cans."

Dean reached over gently, and then smacked Sam's head. "Smartass mouthy younger know everything broth………" Dean whipped his head, looking at the burned bird.


"Uh… I could have sworn. I saw… I swear I saw something move."

"Probably vultures coming to circle the dead rancid looking turkey."

"Yeah... its moments like these that remind me how much I want to punch you."

"Come on… I did say pie was involved with dinner… and a waitress name Betsy Sue."

"Betsy… hmm… sounds good."

With a few chuckles, both brother's agreed to the typical Thanksgiving celebration: A restaurant. Leaving the charred and sad looking turkey behind, the Winchesters were off on their way. As the door shut, a little singed blackened wing raised waving goodbye.


Author's note: I'm working on the second part. This one is a short one, but it amused me too much not to get some of it up on Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving! Reviews are like pie… I love me some pie!