Chapter 1
Bob put the turkey in the oven. He walked into the living room and gazed around. Susan, his daughter, was sitting on the couch texting her boyfriend. He was coming over for Thanksgiving dinner. George, his son, was talking to his best friend, Fritz. Matilda, his wife, was reading a book. It was nice, having the entire family over.
Plus some, he thought, as the doorbell rang. Bob opened the door to see Susan’s boyfriend, Nick standing there. Under his arm was his pet chicken. Bob hated that thing. It always seemed to be staring at him. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He invited Nick in, and watched as he set his chicken down and sat by Susan. They decided to watch a movie until the turkey was done. The chicken would occasionally walk past, staring into Bob’s soul. When the turkey was done, Bob went to the kitchen to get it out.
He put it on the counter to cool off. He set the table and came back to get the turkey. It wasn’t there. Bob looked all over the counter in case it had fallen to the floor, but it wasn’t in the kitchen.
Someone must have brought it to the table. Strange. When he got to the table, he gasped. Standing on the table was the turkey, doing a dance.
Oh no, Bob thought. It’s doing a.. wait, a dance?! Cooked turkeys can’t dance! Even live turkeys can’t dance! Just then, the chicken came around the corner. It was holding a knife. Bob screamed. It was covered in blood. It ran at Bob, ready to plunge the knife into his chest. Bob tried to run, but tripped over his own feet and fell.
