Title: Storybrooke's 29th annual Thanksgiving Festival of Gratitude & Kinship (1/2)
Disclaimer: These characters are not my creative property
"Why don't you try being thankful I didn't make you dress as Pocahontas!" Regina was at her wits end with Emma, per usual.
"I get the sense you want to push me in the oven, baste me in my own drippings, carve me up and eat me with cranberry sauce," Emma could barely walk in her deluxe turkey costume, complete with extended gobbler. At least she was warm. Too warm if she thought about it.
"I would take great delight in stuffing you, true."
Regina, dressed in full traditional colonial garb, diligently tended to her apple press cranking out batches of cider in a demonstration of work ethic that would have put the first settlers to shame. Well, Regina certainly had the posture and grim puritan demeanor for authenticity points, at least. Emma watched with envy as Regina smoothed down her long white apron over her long black dress. Her get-up looked comfy compared to Emma's. Although, she wasn't sure that pilgrim women wore patent leather stiletto heeled fuck me pumps, but somehow it worked on Regina. Incredibly well, actually. Emma let her mind drift to wondering what kind of garters and lacey lingerie Regina had going on underneath that shift dress until her attention snapped back to the task at hand.
"More cider, Ms. Swan," Regina huffed and fussed over Henry's little hat. Why a hat needed a buckle was beyond Emma's grasp of understanding, but Henry looked quite cute, if not a little too much like miniature Regina.
"You should call her Ms. Turkey today," Henry giggled and pointed as Emma scratched at the sweat matted hair against her neck. She might as well be in an oven.
"I like that Henry, very good. Ms. Turkey come get some more samples," Regina placed her hands on Henry's shoulder as he put another tray of non-authentic plastic sample cups on a tray for Emma to fill with cider.
Thanksgiving in Storybrooke was kinda a big deal, although Emma had no idea why. She just wanted to eat, lounge, sleep, and watch TV. Somehow Regina had roped her into dressing as a turkey and handing out glasses of homemade cider during Storybrooke's Thanksgiving festival of Gratitude and Kinship, or whatever it was called. Emma wasn't sure on the precise name of the festival cause she could barely hear, so enclosed her turkey head was.
"Shouldn't I be handing out gravy samples or something related to turkey?" Emma tried to frown, but her beak fell over her eyes. Regina had two cauldrons full of cider: the one on the left was pre-prepared and fermented hard cider with very high alcohol content and the one on the right was regular cider…or was it the other way around? Ah, shit. Emma realized she'd just handed out hard cider to the kids. Well, this was going to be a banner Thanksgiving. Her only prospect of hope was the meal Mary Margaret was preparing back at home, a feast hopefully.
"Sheriff we need you!" Granny screamed from down the way. Emma tried to run, but found she was more restricted in her costume than she usually was in her jeans. So she lumbered…er…waddled. All she knew was she could hear Regina's cackle mocking her from behind.
"What is it?" Emma said breathlessly. Turkey costume was damned heavy.
"Mr. WeWow just took off down Main Street! He's supposed to be on my table for the demonstration," Granny pointed to a zigzagging frightened turkey making an escape attempt.
"Demonstration?" Emma asked wearily, preparing herself to run after the frantic bird.
"The slaughtering demonstration, he's gonna be next week's special- I need that bird," Granny was adamant.
Emma took a deep breath and ran after the turkey, fast fucker. Mean too, Emma found out the hard way. She thought she could sneak up on him, distracting him by throwing out a handful of corn, and maybe he'd think she was just one of his turkey mates. Mr. WeWow was smart. In the end, Emma only got pecked, bitten and flailed on a few dozen times before she was able to get the swoop on him and deliver him back to Granny's festive slaughtering booth. Emma was looking forward to a hot turkey sandwich next week.
"Ms. Turkey, you're neglecting duties!" Regina called her back over, using her new name which elicited a roar of laughter from Henry. He even awarded Regina a coveted high five. Emma thought they looked ridiculous, though she had no room to talk.
"I'm roasting in this! Are we done yet?" Emma showed no shame in her fitful whining and begging. Kids were running around screaming and hiccupping, which Emma had no doubt partly the effects of 12% alcohol by volume homemade cider.
Before Regina could veto the idea of turning in, the fire trucks whizzed by, sirens on, and Emma felt her cell phone buzzing somewhere among her giblets. The smoke was billowing out of—yep, that was most definitely black smoke escaping from Mary Margaret's loft.
Emma took off at her full waddling pace toward the apartment, which was hard enough on its own, never mind the fact that she had imbibed in a few dozen of Regina's hard samples to get through the festival and was now decidedly feeling the effects of the aforementioned, 12% alcohol by volume homemade cider.
The only casualty in the fire was the meal. So long feast, rest in peace. Mary Margaret was standing in the driveway crying on David Nolan's shoulder- holding on tighter than necessary in Emma's opinion. He looked pretty good as a volunteer fire fighter, and Emma wouldn't have been surprised if Mary Margaret burned that shit on purpose just to get to see him in his overalls and carrying an axe.
"Sorry, Emma. I wanted to make Thanksgiving special, but now we have nothing," Mary Margaret cried harder, her lip and chin quivering as large tears rolled down her cheeks.
"It's okay..we have frozen pizza," Emma shrugged in her costume; she needed to get out of it. She started to head up inside when David held out a hand to stop her.
"Oh no, the building needs full inspection for structural damage. You can't go back in today," David said with authoritative certainty.
"I just need to get a change of clothes," Emma reasoned, but David shook his head.
Emma sighed, a puff of air hitting her gobbler, just as Regina and Henry cruised up in the Benz. She rolled down the window and took in the scene.
"Is everyone alright?" Regina asked as if she couldn't care less, her eyes flicking hatefully over David and Mary Margaret.
"Yeah, but the bird is ruined. I guess we're spending Thanksgiving at Granny's Inn," Emma slumped her shoulders in defeat. She watched as Henry whispered something to Regina, and then turned on his wide eyed puppy look. Regina seemed to be wrestling with a difficult and painful decision like whether or not to euthanize a beloved family pet. She finally spoke agonizingly slowly.
"Henry wishes you to be present for Thanksgiving at our house," Regina rolled her eyes, and pursed her lips, "Mary Margaret too."
"We have plenty of food and we can play football in the back yard after we eat!" Henry couldn't contain his excitement.
"Dinner will be ready precisely at six. I trust you'll clean yourselves up before you arrive?" Regina didn't wait for an answer; she threw the Benz into gear and screeched the tires as she drove away.