Disclaimer: I don't own Moulin Rouge... or Thanksgiving for that matter. Roxie's mine though *nods*.

Entire families milled about the padlocked gate. Their talk of Thanksgiving dinner was heard over the incisive gobbling of the turkeys. For this was a turkey farm, and the people gathered about were finding the perfect turkey for their thanksgiving feast. Among the people, two lovers were standing off to the side. They were talking quietly and glaring at a couple 10 feet besides them.

An outrageous couple with no dignity was rolling about in the mud, wrestling for a turkey feather.

"Christian, GET OFF!"

"No! I saw it first!" Christian said as he rolled over onto her.

She screamed bloody murder. "CHRISTIAN JAMES GET OFF! You're getting my dress dirty!"

"Never!" He screamed, tightening his grip on the feather. "Not until you admit the feather is MINE!"

Satine thought for a moment. "Fine." She said. "No sex for a month."

Christian gasped. "You wouldn't dare!" He said, turning pale.

She shrugged, as much as she could with a 195-pound body on top of her. "OK, I'm lying." Christian knew her too well. If she said she would do something, she would. Grumbling, he got off her. "Now help me up." Christian gingerly handed her his hand, half expecting her to push him down in the mud. "Give me the feather..." She commanded. He did and she tucked it in her hair. "What a good boy you are!" She exclaimed.

Her attention quickly shifted from the feather and Christian to the couple in the corner. They shifted their gazes quickly, as if not wanting to be caught staring. Satine on the other hand didn't seem to bother hiding her amusement with the couple.

"Oh darling, look. The poor things, they're so stuffy!" She said, perhaps too loudly.

With a quick deadly glare towards Satine, the 'stuffy' couple walked further away from the two lovers and positioned themselves far on the other side of the pen.

"I think they heard you darling." His face was matted with mud and his hair was rather mused up.

"Look Christian!" She pointed a mud stained glove towards a fat turkey. "Look at her, isn't she beautiful."

The truth was, the turkey was revolting. It had a wing missing and though it was fat, it refused to think it was. It kept getting stuck between two posts that held up the barn in the corner of the pen. Other turkeys kept out of her way, ("Smart Turkeys." Muttered Christian.) despite the fact that the turkey was quite harmless.

"Oh Christian." Satine breathed. "She's perfect!"

The attendant, who seemed to have caught on they found the turkey they wanted, came up to them. "Sir? Have you decided?" He asked Christian.

Christian shot a glance that said 'Are you sure?' to Satine, and when she nodded he said, "The fat one over there."

The man nodded. "Good choice." He climbed over the fence and proceeded to chase the turkey around.

This one did not want to be caught.

"Look at her run!" Satine was delighted. Her hands were clapped over her face, hiding her smile as the man fell into the mud just as the turkey dodged him.

Eventually the man caught the bird. Christian paid the sweaty man and they were off with Satine carrying the Thanksgiving dinner in her arms.

"Darling, she's simply gorgeous!" Satine exclaimed. She was pleased with her pick.

"Don't you think... she's a little..." He couldn't find the words to explain.

"Oh no!" Satine said, hugging the bird closer. "She's superb! I named her Roxie."

"You named her?" His voice cracked. "Oh Satine."

"What's wrong with naming her? She's our pet isn't she?" Satine asked, slightly tickling the bird under its neck.

"Oh Satine!" He moaned. "You think she's a pet?"

Satine looked stunned. "What else would she be?"

"Well..." He thought hard for the easiest way of breaking it to her. "It is Thanksgiving..."

"And?" Christian could feel Satine's eyes bearing into him.

"And usually... you eat turkey." He managed to stutter, preparing himself for the outburst.

"WHAT!"

"And ... Roxie's a turkey."

"But Christian..." she pet Roxie's head. "I love Roxie."

"And I love my dinner."

Satine gapped at Christian. "How dare you!" She hissed. "How dare you say that in front of our Roxie." She covered the bird's pathetic excuse for ears. "She's not dinner. We have pies, sauces, puddings, stuffing... everything that makes a Thanksgiving feast."

"Except the bird." Satine glared at him.

"DO NOT refer to Roxie as 'the bird'. She's Roxie, our brand new pet." And with that, Satine walked off. She refused to talk to him the rest of the way home.

*****

"Here you are Roxie. Here's your new home." Satine set the bird down, it went straight to the corner where Christian's cloak was lying, dug its nails in to make it comfy and lied down.

"Satine!" Christian yelled. "She's ruining my cloak!"

Satine shrugged. "You shouldn't have left it on the ground."

Christian was outraged. "Next thing you know she's going to be sleeping with us."

Satine was startled. "She's not?"

Christian breathed hard. The thought of the turkeys feathers brushing his skin instead of Satine's was revolting. He counted slowly to ten, trying to calm himself.

"Come on Satine. Let's eat."

They had a nice dinner. The pies were burnt as a result of Satine's cooking skills. The cornbread pudding was delicious as it turned out Zidler was a better cook then everyone made him out to be. Christian did have turkey; it was mixed into the stuffing. He slipped Roxie a piece while Satine wasn't looking; he had a feeling she wouldn't like him feeding Roxie her own kind.

After all the dishes were washed and the turkey was tucked on his coat in the corner. Christian took Satine's hand and led her to bed. She was too tired to resist.

They slept together, their arms linked, only to be split apart when the turkey mischievously crawled in between Christian and Satine.

Oh the commotion Christian caused in the morning...