Killer Meat Stuffing

Killer Meat Stuffing

Tom Turnkey couldn’t believe the Thanksgiving feast was upon him again. Relatives were to arrive from all points of the compass. He had a love, hate appreciation for this celebration. His labor today would be the all-consuming preparation for the coming meal. As he perused his recipes, he double checked his shopping list against his inventory of supplies on hand.

Tom was happy that he had remembered to remove his meat slabs from the freezer a couple of days ago; they should be defrosted enough to start the grinding process later that morning after he completed his shopping. The meat stuffing for the turkey entrée was a long-held family recipe. Tom had become the recipient of the family secrets decades ago, and he hoped that he could find a worthy successor this holiday. He was finding the weight and efforts to host the feast had worn his patience thin; he knew this would probably be his last.

Returning from his shopping, Tom was disappointed to find that several of his relatives had arrived early for the feast. Tom put his best fake smile on as he parked the car. As he stepped out of the SUV, Thomas, his namesake, came running up to him and hugged his leg. Tom knew the child was a nephew of some sort but couldn’t recall what branch of the family tree he sprang from.

Tom reached down and pulled the little leach from his leg. The squirmy thing managed to latch onto him in a hug around the neck. As he was in full view of many of his other relatives, he kept up the façade. He hugged the child back then said to him, “Thomas, it’s good to see you.” Tom hugged him a little tighter and added, “I could just eat you up.”

The boy replied, “No you can’t Uncle Tom.”

As he attempted to disentangle himself from the boy’s grasp he said, “I can certainly try.”

The boy giggled, “I’ll eat you first.”

A curious look came over Tom’s face and he said, “I bet you will.”

By this time a crowd had gathered around so Tom set the boy down and made the rounds with obligatory hugs and pleasantries. He hated this part of the holiday. There was one of his kin that caught his eye during the meet and greet. He found out his name was Alex, who was another one of his peculiar nephews. He had shown up in full hunting attire with what appeared to be a haunch of deer meat slung over his shoulder.

During the inane chit chat with the surrounding family members Alex said to Tom, “Unc, if you don’t mind, I was hoping to add to the side dishes with a venison chili.”

Tom replied, “Boy, there is not a carnivore here that wouldn’t appreciate another meat dish.”

There was laughter from many of those who overheard the comment. Obviously sucking up, Alex inquired, “Are you doing that Killer Meat Stuffing again this Year?”

“I am. With the turkey, stuffing, blood pie and your venison chili we will be able to satisfy all the cannibals at the table tomorrow. If there any vegans present, they will just have to find a different feast to attend.”

With helping hands to carry the groceries, Tom ushered the gathered relatives into the Turnkey Mansion. The Turnkey estate dated back to the early days of the colonies. The New England location remains undisclosed, except to the Turnkey relatives. The expanse of the estate encloses a mountain, a few running streams and a smallish lake which the family mansion overlooks. By early ancestor’s decree, all Turnkeys are welcome, and none are to be excluded.

Thanksgiving wasn’t the only activity that occurred at the estate. Many celebrations took place there throughout the year, but Thanksgiving brought the whole family in.

The Mansion itself had been expanded several times over the generations and now boasted an east and west wing with a total of 22 bedrooms. There were several additional servant’s quarters sprinkled around the manse to accommodate those that didn’t arrive early enough to get awarded a room in the big house. The dining hall could easily seat a hundred people, and it was expected that it would be filled nearly to capacity again this year.

Tom found himself in the gourmet kitchen with Alex. Busy with his own concoctions, he didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to Alex’s preparations until he noticed his nephew’s knife work as he carved the venison haunch. Tom was somewhat impressed and told him as much.

Doing butcher work it’s impossible to avoid the splatter zone. As Tom worked his own meat, he caught some splatter directly in the face. A piece of gristle slid down his cheek and fell off his chin. He didn’t skip a beat, he licked his lips and moved onto the next task.

Time passed and Alex finished his dish preparations. He then asked, “Uncle Tom, can I give you a hand with anything?”

Thinking to himself, he had not had help in the kitchen since his wife passed away in 1998, he replied, “Alex, I accept your offer. These three piles of meat need to be run through the grinder. Then we can start the pre-cook of the stuffing.”

Alex was stunned at first. He couldn’t believe he was being invited to help in the preparation of the infamous stuffing. Inquiring, “Uncle, did you just give up the secret ingredients of the recipe?”

“Boy, if you are worthy, I will give you all the secrets. Though, if you think these piles are the secret, then you don’t know half of it.”

Later, Tom asked Alex to give him an hour alone. Alex left and returned an hour later, finding Tom stirring a vast pot with a large paddle. Alex immediately recognized the scent of the meat stuffing and asked, “Uncle, are you going to take the secrets to the grave with you?

Tom grunted and said, “Nephew, you could have the answer to that tomorrow after the meal.”

“So, how come you don’t have any employed help for this preparation?”

“I have caterers and wait staff coming in the morning for the vegetable dishes and baked goods. For the entrée, it must be Turnkey family and only us to handle the meat.”

With that, Alex dropped that line of questioning. “Well, what’s left to do?”

“Meet me here tomorrow morning at 5 AM and we’ll stuff the birds and get them into the ovens. I’ll cover this vat and let the stuffing cool overnight. Remember one thing Alex, never stuff the birds with hot meat. I’ve never had anyone get sick from my meals and it comes down to sanitary precautions.”

“Thanks for that tip Uncle, I’ll see you here in the morning.”

As promised, Alex helped Tom the next morning. They agreed to speak again after the meal and went to get ready for the feast.

During the festivities, Tom surveyed the great hall to see all in attendance were gorging themselves and looked satisfied. Later as the meal was winding down, he stood and indicated that he needed silence. As the hall grew quiet, Tom announced, “As always, our family feast is another success. I’m pleased that you’re all gathered to hear that you will have a new host for the years to come. I have chosen Alex to take on the mantle of curator of the Turnkey Thanksgivings. I, Tom Turnkey, plan to retire and spend my time down south baking in the sun.”

A great round of applause came from everyone. Tom left his spot at the table and made his way around the hall one final time shaking hands and doling out hugs and kisses as he went. When he finally made his way to Alex, he drew him into a bear hug and said, “Meet me at the barn tonight at eight o’clock, there are a few more things we need to discuss.”

Alex replied, “Uncle. Thank you for this tremendous honor. I’ll see you there.”

They released from the hug and Tom continued on his way to greet more relatives.

Tom was happy to see Alex was already in the barn when he arrived. “Alex I’m glad you’re here. There are several topics we need to go over if you are willing to accept the position of curator.”

Alex replied as he followed Tom to a large table on the right-hand wall of the barn, “I can’t imagine I would have any reason not to accept this great honor.”

“My apologies for not informing you of my decision before the announcement this afternoon. Alex, I have chosen you as my successor because I have no progeny of my own. Sadly, Audry and I never had children. She passed before we could make that a reality. I find that you are worthy to continue the Turnkey traditions.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. The responsibilities are multiple. There is the upkeep of the mansion and the surrounding buildings, also there is the family cemetery to tend to. You will be responsible for hosting numerous events and gatherings. But oh, I didn’t think to ask if you have a family of your own?”

“I do, it’s me, my wife Beth, and my boy Thomas who you greeted so warmly yesterday morning.”

A little stunned Tom said, “Figures. I had no idea he was your son, but that is quite appropriate.” He continued, “You and your family will want for nothing. The Family fortune has set aside a trust for this position. All maintenance for the estate is covered by a separate trust.”

“Sounds good so far.”

Pointing to a number of large tomes on the table before them, Tom said, “In these books, ledgers and papers you will find all you need to know about our family’s history, legacy, lineage and financials. And yes, all the recipes are in there also.”

“Uh, before, you mentioned a cemetery. How will I be responsible for that?”

“Good question Alex. That brings us back to the final reason I need a successor. You see, I have a malignant brain tumor. From my research, this is not going to be good for me. Ah, I’m just going to be blunt about this subject.” Pointing to an older large bore revolver on the table he said, “I want you to euthanize me. And I want you to do it tonight if you accept the position.”

Alex sputtered, “Unc, Unc, Uncle, you, you want me to kill you?”

“That and harvest the meat.”

“What?”

“That’s right. That is the family secret sauce. Let me explain. Since early on we Turnkey’s have always sustained and fed our family. Our earliest thanksgiving included a family members meat. It was a bad harvest and no stockpile of supplies; he gave of himself to keep the rest of the family alive. I know you’re a hunter; I saw you carve that haunch of meat. I know you hunt to eat but not for sport. Correct?”

“Correct. I hunt to supplement our diet.”

“I guessed as much. So, you see, meat is meat.”

Alex was looking a little ill when he replied, “I don’t see at all.”

“Alex, how many thanksgivings have you attended? Never once did you question, care or know that we’re all cannibals in this family. And part of the job is to not let anyone else know.”

Alex stared at his uncle as the realization began to dawn on him and some of the color returned to his face. He finally asked, “So the cemetery hides our sins?”

“Sins to some, but not to us.” You will be asked to allow deceased family members to be buried on the grounds. You will comply with all requests as not one Turnkey will be excluded. The only caveat, no embalming and no open caskets. Always offer hospice in the mansion. Harvest only the untainted meat.”

Alex nodded. “I understand.”

“So, I have to ask, do you accept the position?”

“And everything else I need to know are in these documents?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then yes, I do accept the position of curator.”

With that, Tom produced another document from his coat pocket. With a pen in hand, he spread the document out flat and said, “We both sign here, and the transition will be final.”

They both signed the document, then Alex asked, “Now what?”

Tom simply said, “Do the deed.”

With that, Alex picked up the large revolver. He made the kill shot as Tom took the bullet right between the eyes. Alex licked some blood splatter from his lips and began to prepare Tom’s carcass for harvest.

One year later.

The feast was winding down when Alex stood. He hushed the masses and made his announcement. “Family, thank you all for coming and thank you for all your compliments on the meal. It is my great pleasure to continue the traditions as caretaker of the Turnkey Thanksgiving feast. Many of you have asked where Tom is, and I must inform you that Tom passed this year past. He is here in spirit and you all should be happy to know that Tom did get baked.”


Word Count
2210
Prompt
A Thanksgiving family reunion leaves some members
thankful that they survived... for now.