Thanksgiving without the Star

The turkey isn't dead! 300-word flash

Thanksgiving Without the Star

I was just laying down the last napkin and lighting the candles on the table when I heard it. Loud gobbling and the sound of two running feet with claws. To my astonishment, a live, feathered turkey launched itself onto the table and began to run down it.
I swear I tried to grab it, but it eluded me. Before I could try again, the bird ran through the pumpkin pies, leaving turkey tracks in them.
“Somebody stop this deranged fowl!” I screamed. Dad and my two brothers came rushing in. Dad was waving a sharpened hatchet.
“Chase him outside before you kill him,” I reminded them, knowing Mom would pitch a fit if the killing happened in her cleaned-within-an-inch of its life house.
“What’s going on?” Mom yelled from upstairs.
“It’s being taken care of,”
“What is?” she said from half-way down the stairs.
To try and distract her, I smiled.
“You look beautiful!”
“Oh, this old thing, I’ve had it for years!”
“Why don’t you sit down in the living room and relax?”
“I need to see how the turkey’s cooking.”
“It should be almost done, but it’s not even dead yet!” I muttered.
I went to the back door to see how the would-be turkey slayers were faring. They were standing at the edge of a small woodland that we had on our farm, staring into it.
“They’ve gone and lost it!” I thought as I waved them back in.
“There’s no turkey in my oven. All the stuffing ingredients are still on the counter,” my mother said in a perplexed voice.
“We should just order Swiss Chalet delivered, don’t you think?”
Luckily our other guests arrived just then, and I placed the order. It was hot and delicious, but not fresh turkey!