Salacious Stories of Stuffing and Materialism

As I sit here, looking dumbfounded at my screen, stuffed to the tits with Tofurky and vegan mac and cheese – I have no idea what I’m going to write here. Really. I’m so hopped up on iced coffee and drunken memories of the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving that I truly believe my body is toast.

But after sucking down another pound of mashed potatoes, it came to me – fuck it, Nick – just write two short stories inspired by Thanksgiving and Black Friday. So that’s what I’m going to do – on the spot – as I write – think of two short stories that speak to this time of year. If I eff up, who cares, I’m doing it for the love of my pals at MacabreDaily and maybe their readers. I dunno and again, no one cares.

The Thanksgiving Uncle Mike Died

Uncle Mike was a dick. Let’s go ahead and get that out of the way right now. I mean, he was a drunk, a pill popper and he always mooched off the family. That’s why Aunt Linda didn’t want her fucked up brother to join the rest of the family at her house for the dead bird feast. But

nothing is gonna stop Unc mike from getting a free meal.

It started off pretty mellow, Linda was working her antiquated cooking methods back in her kitchen, Grandpa Bill was asleep watching The Rockettes kick their magic during the Macy’s Day Parade and the rest of the family was playing Boggle in the sunroom. DING DONG! Fuck! I could smell the dread fill Aunt Linda’s lair; it was Uncle Mike.

I decided to answer the door. “Hey, nephew.” How’s it hangin’ in the low zone” he bellowed as cheap whisky permeated from his lips. “It’s whatever, Uncle Mike” I shot back as he ignored me in search of booze or grandpa’s medication stash.

Linda heard him squawking and exited the kitchen while wiping her hands on her apron that read, “This T-giving, I’m Giving My Family the BIRD.”

“Mike. It’s good to see you. Sit down. Relax. And please, no booze or politics.” Linda begged as she sat him down next to Grandpa.

Mike barked back, “You know, Linda – you’ve always bossed me around since we were kids. Piss off, grab me a beer and turn it to Fox News.”

“Fox Fucking News. Really?” I yelled at Mike.

“Awwww, look at the little Nephew, getting all ballsy – wanna take a stab at your old uncle? I might be wasted, but I’d kick your ass.” Belching as he spoke.

I withdrew my vape pen, approached Mike, and grabbed the right side of his head while simultaneously piercing the pen into his left ear.

“Gruhk” is the last sound anyone ever heard from Uncle Mike.

We didn’t want to seem cold – so we still propped him up at the table and let him enjoy one last Thanksgiving with his family.

Black Friday Massacre

Marsha was always an introvert. Ever since she can remember. Maybe because she was always picked on, bullied and ridiculed by the other kids in her small hometown of Lucious, Indiana. A hick, repressed town with a population of 679 people. Maybe a few more when the farmers brought in migrant workers for the fall harvest. Marsha mostly kept to herself. Even in high school – she stayed withdrawn – missing prom and other popular events associated with high school. It wasn’t until she graduated and got a job at her local Walmart that she felt a sense of independence. Most of the kids stayed in Luscious, probably because they enjoyed being a big fish in a small pond – but Marsha fucking hated it. It meant she would still get poked and prodded when her tormentors verbally assaulted her at the job that seem to give her inner peace.

Even worse, Marsha was somewhat thriving now. She just started internet dating, finding a couple of nice guys on ChristianMingle.com. She has her own small apartment above the garage of a close friend of the family – and she was working her way up to assistant manager of the produce department at Walmart.

If she could just get rid of those fucks from high school that made her life a living hell.

BOOM! She came up with a plan.

It starts with a personal invite to her bullies. A special invitation to enter Walmart before anyone else on Black Friday. Show up at 3 am and shop to your heart’s desire for two whole hours. That will get them to the store, for sure.

The night (early morning) had arrived – and sho’ nuff, there were her oppressors. Waiting outside the Walmart doors. As she approached to let them in – they made faces at her and laughed, spit in her mouth as they took off to shop. She eloquently smiled to herself and locked the doors as they hooted and hollered with excitement. She made her way to the manager’s office to retrieve a key – this key gave her access to the AC/Heating vents – where she had meticulously hooked up a small canister of nitrogen dioxide to the vent outtake. Marsha turned on the heat – and attached a gas mask to her face, she went to the security room so she could watch all of those horrible tyrants collapse; one by one as they breathed in the noxious fumes.

She was so happy. Marsha took her time disposing of their bodies in the trash bin out back.

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TTFN.

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