Author's Note: You could call this a sequel to Princess and a Knight on Halloween Knight, considering some of the elements involved. Please excuse the relative shortness, and Happy Thanksgiving!

Norma stood in front of the group, displaying a pile of bags stuffed to the brim. She had announced that, after the success of her Halloween costumes, had taken the liberty of making more, this time Thanksgiving-themed costumes. Her words cast a silence over the group; her 'success' had been a barrage of awkward costumes, which, at its worst, had made Elsa mistake Senel for Moses, Chloe into a ridiculous superhero, and turned Jay into a fairytale's princess—with Moses as the heroic knight. Everyone looked at Norma with growing apprehension, some even preparing to run; Jay's feet had shifted ever so slightly, allowing him to bolt at a moment's notice.

"Come on, guys," Norma pleaded, seeing the blatant signs of reluctance to her idea, "We'll be the centerpiece of the parade!"

"Laughingstock of the parade, you mean," Jay muttered, taking a slow, measured step away from the pile of bags, in which he could see the label of "JJ" and a large, dark red thing. A rare occasion was occurring: the identity of this something was not a point of curiosity for Jay, but rather something he would like to ignore.

"JJ, from your tone, you want to get changed first!" Norma grinned evilly.

"No, thank you," Jay declined politely. Norma attempted to murder him by throwing her straw, missing him completely and smashing it into Moses' arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" Moses yelled, clutching his arm and cringing in pain.

"You've been chosen by my Straw of Decisions! You got hit first, so you'll change first!" Handing him a bag labeled "Red", Norma accented her declaration with a death glare—do it or die. She kept this glare fixed to her face while she handed out the bags, taking advantage of the tacit do-or-die glare, which was being backed up by her straw.

The next five minutes was complete pandemonium. Norma fluttered around her friends, making sure that they were putting their costumes on and helping them do so. The air was filled with noise, mostly Norma yelling at someone to adjust their costume in a certain direction, or guiding them through a stuck zipper, small interjections of the other person occasionally making it through.

Jay felt cylindrical. From just above his knees to far above his head, nothing could be seen but red costume. His hands were tucked within the folds of cloth, his face managing to stick out in a comical position three-quarters of the way along his cylinder. Having been given the go-ahead by Norma to return to where his costumed friends were waiting, he teetered and tottered, loathing every moment in exponential amounts.

"So you're the cranberry sauce? Yum!" Moses' voice snorted from across the room. Jay felt his body temperature rise several degrees, the already-present headache preparing to multiply inside his head.

"Moses," he said quite calmly, "your stupid commentaries aren't necessary in this situation—"

Moses, placidly walking around in the costume of a turkey, turned and narrowed his eyes. "What was that, Jay?" he asked, a little danger creeping into his tone. His eyes widened in surprise a moment later, watching the boy screw his eyes shut, trying extremely hard to shut out laughter.

"Jay?" Senel, wrapped in a large, white square, his head adorned with a large silver knife, fork, and spoon, edged closer to his friend, seeing the odd expression on his friend's face.

Jay's eyes shot open, and the moment of near-laughter was lost. "Oh, nothing; it just occurred to me that Moses' costume is set backwards—see how the drumsticks are on either side of his head? Those are the legs, so his head is actually sticking out of—"

"Oops!" Norma snorted, "Did I really make Red's head come out of the turkey's butt?"

"Hey!" Red snapped, stomping his foot, "That ain't funny, Bubbles!"

"Well, it's too late to change now. The parade's going to start soon, like it or not! We'd better get going, so it's time for a role call!" She reached into her costume, an upright triangle slice of pumpkin pie, pulling out a small piece of paper, from which she read off everyone's name, checking to see that everything was ready to go.

"Senny the napkins?"

"I'm here."

"Teach the squash?"

"This costume is a little tight, Norma."

"C the apple cider?"

"What did you use to make the glass? It's really itchy."

"Red the turkey?"

"This is so unfair."

"JJ the cranberry sauce?"

"Unfortunately, present."

"G-Girl the gravy?"

"This is fun," Grune smiled.

"Shirl the mashed potatoes?"

"Here, in the white, lumpy costume."

"And lastly me, the pumpkin pie. That would be everyone, so we're all set!"

Replacing the paper in her costume, her hand was filled with her straw, which she brandished at everyone, pointing it first at them, than at the door. Getting her hint, Will started the procession, which could have easily been mistaken for a funeral in strange costume, towards the starting point of the parade.

From the moment that they stepped out into the cool autumn air, a feeling of dread oppressed the party, save Norma, who was humming happily, and Grune, who was humming an accompanying tune. The short walk to the fountain plaza seemed to take an eternity, slowing down even further as staring eyes began to lock onto the spectacle they made. Many points along the way seemed perfect to stop, to turn around and be spared further humiliation; Norma's threatening straw, held over the fact that no one else's costume had any armholes, eliminated any chance of this.

Two steps had been taken across the bridge to the plaza before their progress was completely halted. With a loud yet unintelligible speech, which contained the word "brother" a few times, Curtis and Isabella, the leaders of the Bantam Bouncers, descended upon the group.

"I see you're in the holiday spirit, brother!" Curtis grinned, slapping Senel on the back.

Senel winced from pain and embarrassment. "Uh, yeah…it was Norma's idea."

"A splendid idea it was!" Curtis yelled appreciatively, giving Norma two prominent thumbs-up.

"I'm assuming that you'll be participating in the parade?" Isabella interrupted, "It's being assembled over there." She pointed, with a degree of drama which was inhibited, compared to Curtis', to a cluster of sparkly-costumed people.

Awkwardly joining the flashy group, who spared no expense to give them strange looks, the Thanksgiving dinner-costumed octet waited, dreading the all-too-soon moment that they would have to walk around Werites Beacon, their roles as living food making them into the laughingstock and talk of the town.