Welp, taday’s Thanksgivin an I can't wait ta get at that ole bird. I lov'em ole turkey legs er whatev'r tha name is. Them birds is so moist'n juicy. I could drink'at ole broth right outta tha pan. Yummeee.

I can't wait fer'em ole sweet taters wiff marshmellers. That plus turkey's betta than ole sex wiff Kim. An I rekon'ats a close'n. If'n she heared'at boy she'd be fit ta be tied, er howev'r it go.

Maw's gettin ready ta cook. We killed'at ole turkey tha udder day an he's gonna be a fresh'n. He's a big ole plumpin. I'm don ret'ta eat now, shew I don starv'd maself.

~

"Junior, hey junior!" Susan stood at the front door and yelled.

Sam Jr. walked out of the barn. "Yea maw?" He yelled back.

"I need a jar of pickled beets from tha cellar. I ain't got none in tha house." Susan yelled back.

"Yea maw, I'll get it." Sam yelled.

Sam went into to dark cellar and searched for the pickled beets. He grabbed a jar and as he was walking up from the cellar he felt a strange feeling come over him but he didn't know nor understand why.

As he exited the cellar he saw Mr. Ellis's ole jalopy of a car sitting in the drive way. He looked around but Mr. Ellis was nowhere to be seen. Sam came to the assumption that Mr. Ellis was in the house already.

Sam entered the house and overhead just a tiny bit of what Mr. Ellis was saying. 'Big Sam, Susan, we needs ta get Sam on tha same page as tha Unt'uchable's. him being fr'ends wiff'at Tom Sawyer an Eugene Dewey will kill er money. Sam's makin tha wrong choice.'

Sam shut the door behind him which made a bang and the conversation went to a halt as Sam walked in the kitchen with the pickled beets.

"Well howdy Mr. Ellis, I ain't know ya was comin ta dinner wiff us." Sam said convincingly.

"Well ma boy, ya maw called me up an ya know me, I can't resist a good ole meal." Mr. Ellis replied with a smile.

"Yea, I rekon I know ta perty well now Mr. Ellis." Sam replied with a fake smile.

Sam hands the jar to Susan and starts towards the living room to have some free time all to him for a moment, but he was stopped dead in his tracks by Susan.

“Boy, don’ ya go in’er, we’s gonna eat right now soon as ya warsh up.” Susan said.

Sam stopped and almost did a drunken redneck moonwalk to the sink to wash up.

The other three sat at the table and awaited ole slow Sam.

“Hurry it up Junior, I gots thangs ta get done outside before dark.” Big Sam boasted.

“Aight, sorry pa.” Sam apologized as he dried his hands on the damp dishcloth.

Finally it was time to eat, Sam sat down beside his mom and Mr. Ellis sat at a diagonal from him.

“I’ll say grace.” Susan said. “Er He’venly fatha, we thank ye fer’is food’at we’sz bout ta partak’in. Thank ye fer y’orn lovin grace. Amen.” Susan finished and raised her head up. “Now let’s eat fellers.”

The trio of men grabbed food faster than a tornado could wipeout a trailer park.

As they sat there gorging on the Thanksgiving fixings, Mr. Ellis thought it was the perfect time to try and persuade Sam not to get involved with the man that Rush made, Tom Sawyer and the geeky super genius that was Eugene Dewey.

“Sam,” Mr. Ellis said. “What was ya doin wiff’at ole Tom Sawy’r feller tha otha night at Da’fience?” Mr. Ellis asked.

“Oh Mr. Ellis he just wanted me ta try’is ole Labatt Blue beer. It weren’t nuttin, re’lly.”

Big Sam dropped his knife and fork on the plate making a clanking noise.

“Whah?” Big Sam said with a sour expression on his face. “Ya know they ain’t no beer come in’is house but good ole PBR, so whah ya doin drankin some Labatt Blue boy?”

Sam stopped and looked at his dad. “It weren’t nuttin pa, Tom gim’me sum ta try, they reminds me a lil bit of homemade maple syrup on ma pancakes. It weren’t bad pa.” Sam said try to convince Big Sam he wasn’t disrespecting the PBR family tree that Big Sam held so dearly to his heart. “I’m sorry pa, I ain’t mean to de’fine ya rools.”

Big Sam stared at him with bonedaggers in his eyes. “Did ya bring any inta ma house er ma prop’rty?” Big Sam asked.

Sam shook his head no. “No sir, I finish’d tha three he give me. I put’em three PBR’s in tha fridge fer ya though.” Sam replied hoping that might smooth things over with his pa.

“Aight boy, ya bes’ not be a lyin ta me.” Big Sam responded.

“No sir, I ain’t lyin ta ya.” Sam answered as he shook his head.

Sam took a drink of milk to help wash down the last bite of biscuit down.

“So whah did’at Tom feller want Sam?” Susan asked.

Sam cleared his throat.

“Well, I rekon he’s real big wiff tha lord. He was’a talkin bout needin valiant men fer tha rekonin. He was’a needin brave souls ta help’im beat tha evil in Def’iance.” Sam replied.

“Oh.” Susan said shocked as she had no idea why Mr. Ellis dis agreed with that.

“Ya wrong boy, he’s a cult lead’r. Him an Dewey’s tryin ta recruit ya as a sacrifice…yer tha lamb ta their slaughta son. Don ya get it?” Mr. Ellis spoke up and blasted Tom and Eugene.

“Naw, I don rekon Mr. Ellis.” Sam replied. “Could we jus drop it an eat right now?”

“No, I won’t drop it Sam!” Mr. Ellis screamed as he jumped up from his seat. “I’m tryin ta help ya ferther ya rasslin career an here ya is sayin I’m wrong. I ain’t gon ta sit here an listin ta ta call me a liar. Tom and Eugene ain’t gon’ta help ya if’n ya needs it. Ya know who would?”

Sam shook his head no.

“Tha Unt’uchables, that’s who, they know whah team works all about, unlike Tom an Eugene. That’s who ya needs to join up wiff.” Mr. Ellis continued.

Sam just looked at his plate and ate slowly hoping Mr. Ellis would calm down and act like a normal human being.

“Mr. Ellis I’m sorry if’n I offended ya, I ain’t mean ta. I jus like Tom, he’s a nice guy.” Sam said as Mr. Ellis began to sit down.

“Fine, this ain’t over boy. We’ll talk about it lat’r.” Mr. Ellis said as he was still heated.

“So would ya pass me a biscuit Mr. Ellis?” Sam asked.

“Whah?!?! Ya want a flippin biscuit? All ya ever worry bout is food, you fat slob.” Mr. Ellis said as he grabbed a handful of biscuits out of the bowl. “Here eat all ya want ya pig an go root in tha mud atter ya eat.”

Mr. Ellis rared back and threw the three biscuits at Sam, hitting him with one.

“Enjoy ya food boy. Maybe next time I sees ya ole Tom and Eugene’ll be cookin ya wiff an apple in ya fat mouth.” Mr. Ellis said as he almost pushing through the front door as he left the Turner house.

Sam sat there amazed and angry. His parents just looked at him with a scowls one there faces. Sam knew they were upset, but he didn’t know why they’d be mad at him, he didn’t think he did anything wrong. He only spoke for the voiceless that weren’t there to defend themselves, which was what his parents always taught him to do.

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