A/N: It being Thanksgiving, I just couldn't resist writing someone with everyone's favourite Bohemians in it! I'm sorry for all the grammatical errors and junk, I just wanted to get this up ASAP! Enjoy!
"Die, die, DIE!" Maureen screamed, stabbing the once-decent, now-mutilated turkey with a fork.
"Okay, can someone tell me why we let Maureen cook Thanksgiving dinner?" Mark asked, hands covering his ears.
All of the Bohemians turned to glare at Joanne.
"What?" she shrugged. "I didn't know she was this bad at cooking!"
"Honey," Angel said gently. "We're talking about Maureen here. Don't you remember what happened when she made my birthday cake?"
"Hey!" Maureen whirled around, brandishing her bloody fork. "That was an accident! I didn't know you weren't supposed to put mincemeat in cake!"
"Maureen, you gave Collins salmonella poisoning!" Mimi snorted.
"Ugh!" Maureen threw her hands up in the air, sending little blobs of raw turkey flying everywhere. "Everyone's a critic! You're on my side, aren't you, Roger?"
The rocker in question was listening to music, and didn't deign to make a reply.
"ROGER!" Maureen yelled.
No response.
Maureen stomped over and kicked Roger with all her might. "OW!" he yelped. "Son of a – Maureen, what the hell was that for?" he rubbed his shin, cursing Maureen and her pointed boots.
"Boys!" Maureen exclaimed dramatically and then returned to her previous activity of murdering the turkey.
At that moment, the loft door slid open and Collins swaggered in, holding a flat, steaming box.
"Pizza!" Collins grinned, brandishing the box proudly. Roger was up and across the room in a matter of seconds, reaching for the biggest slice. Collins slapped his hand away.
"Uh uh, Roger. Vegetarians only." He winked at Angel. "You can have your...ahem, delicious turkey."
"Finally! Someone who has faith in me!" Maureen punched the air gleefully. "Now, I think it's time to start stuffing the turkey..." she said, turning back to her catastrophe of a Thanksgiving dinner.
"Whoop-de-freaking-do." Roger said sarcastically.
Maureen glared at him and then began to stuff the turkey with a lot more force than was necessary.
"Y'know," Mimi mused, eyeing the drama queen, "If we'd had her in World War Two, we so wouldn't have lost."
Mark cleared his throat loudly. "Uh, Mimi? We won in World War Two."
"Technicality." Mimi said dismissively.
The group lapsed into contented silence, punctuated only by Collins and Angel's chewing and Maureen's on-going battle with the turkey.
After a while, Maureen broke the silence. "Uh oh." she squeaked.
"What is it now, Honeybear?" Joanne groaned.
"Well, you know how you're supposed to take off all your rings when you're stuffing a turkey?"
"Yes..." Joanne said cautiously.
"Um, I sort of...didn't do that...and now my ring is stuck in there..."
Joanne cradled her head in her hands, losing the will to go on.
"Well, now it can be like a game!" Angel said brightly. "You know, you eat the turkey and the person who finds the ring wins!"
"Easy for you to say, you don't have to eat the thing." Roger muttered.
"No, no, all we have to do is get someone with small hands to pull it out of...uh...the turkey." Joanne proclaimed. "Mimi?"
"Nuh-uh." Mimi shook her head. "I just did my nails."
"Marky!" Maureen grabbed Mark's arm. "You have freakishly girly hands – you can get the ring out!"
Without waiting for Mark's ascent, Maureen jammed his hand up the turkey's rear-end. Wrinkling his nose, Mark felt around for a while, trying not to throw up at the nauseating scent of the turkey.
"I've found it!" he shouted triumphantly.
"My hero!" Maureen squealed, taking the opportunity to stick her tongue down Mark's throat (until Joanne pulled her away five seconds later).
Slightly dizzy, Mark went to pull his hand out of the turkey...only to discover that it was stuck. "IT'S STUCK!" Mark wailed.
"What?!" the bohos chorused.
"MY HAND IS STUCK IN THE TURKEY!"
Roger and Collins began laughing so hard that their faces started turning blue.
"THIS IS NOT FUNNY!" Mark yelled, waving the turkey around.
"Get...the...camera..." Collins wheezed to Roger, who ran out of the room, howling with laughter.
"Okay, okay, Mark just calm down." Joanne instructed.
"Calm down?! CALM DOWN?! JOANNE, MY HAND IS STUCK UP A FREAKING TURKEY, I WILL NOT CALM DOWN!"
"I just love this holiday." Mimi said to Angel, who nodded eagerly.
"Wait a second, Mark, if you let go of Maureen's ring, can you take your hand out?" Joanne asked.
His face returning to its natural colour, Mark nodded.
"Well, then –"
"Hold on a second, that's my favourite ring in there! You can't let go of it!"
"Maureen, I am not keeping my hand stuck up a turkey's butt just because you want me to hold onto your ring!"
"This is pure gold." Roger chuckled, zooming in on the beetroot-faced Maureen and Mark, who was brandishing the turkey at her.
"No, Maureen, I am NOT using this turkey as a hand for the rest of my life!"
"Oh, please, you haven't had a life sing 1985!"
"Hey now, let's just discuss this calmly –" Joanne pleaded.
Roger, Mimi, Angel and Collins sat down on the couch. It was going to be a long night.
--
Three hours later, all of the Bohemians were gathered together, eating the pizza Collins had ordered after Maureen had jumped on the turkey. Maureen and Mark were sitting on opposite sides of the room, not speaking.
"I had fun today." Angel declared, kissing Collins on the cheek.
"Me too." Mimi agreed and Roger nodded, still laughing at the memory of Mark's hand stuck up the turkey.
"Whatever." Maureen and Mark said together, before glaring at each other.
"There's always next year." Angel said brightly and all of the bohos groaned in unison.
Next year sure was going to be interesting...
A/N: Reviews make me feel very, very happy :D! You also get virtual cookies, who could pass that up? Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
-Ellie :D