"They're calling this turkey?" Jonathan Crane fumed, poking the piece of white meat on his plate in the Arkham Asylum cafeteria.
"Is it not?" Jervis Tetch asked, hastily putting down his fork.
"It's turkey, in the loosest sense of the word! I want a drumstick! Proper Thanksgiving!" Jonathan demanded.
"Dr. Crane, you know we can't let you have long bones. Remember last time?" an orderly said.
Edward Nygma sadly turned his piece of turkey over. "This is sad. Thanksgiving should be a lot more cheerful. And food-full. There should be real turkey-"
"Wait, what is it we're eating?" Jervis asked, confused.
"-Stuffing, potatoes, cranberry sauce…." Edward trailed off dreamily.
Jonathan slammed his fist onto the table suddenly, causing his fellow inmates to jump. "That's it! If they will not give us a proper thanksgiving, we will take it! Come on, we're breaking out!"
"Breaking out?" repeated Jervis. "How?"
Jonathan dropped his voice to a whisper. "I have a plan…"
…
"Whew, that was fun," panted Edward, leaning against the wall of the house they had broken into. "We should use that break out scheme more often!"
"Is this yours?" Jervis asked Jonathan, looking around impressed at the large kitchen.
"No, but the owners are on vacation, so it's empty. Feel free to break anything you don't like."
Edward had opened the fridge, and was perusing its contents. "Hmm. We have a few things in here, but if we want proper thanksgiving, you two are going to need to run to the store."
"Ok, make a list," said Jonathan.
"Wait; was that turkey I was eating back in Arkham?" Jervis asked.
"Ish," said Jonathan, taking the list from Edward and walking out the back door, followed by the Mad Hatter. "It was turkey-ish. But now we shall have a proper thanksgiving dinner!"
"What are we giving thanks for?"
"Don't you know? The pilgrims? That hard winter in 1602, followed by a feast with the Indians?"
Jervis nodded. "Ah, yes. That day some Britons left England and started turning into wild animals."
"What? Where did you learn that? Thanksgiving is a national holiday! Everyone should know about it. Where on earth did you go to school?"
"Britain, Jonathan. Great Britain." Jervis sniffed. "We don't celebrate it there."
"Well, you're in America now. Get with the program. Aha! The store! Come on, I hope there's still some turkey left…"
"Why turkey?" Jervis asked, moving out of the way so Jonathan could get a cart.
"It's traditional. Grab some potatoes."
"Ok. We don't need a lot, do we?" Jervis asked, grabbing a bag of potatoes and dumping it into the cart.
"No, just piecrusts, vegetables and a few other things," Jonathan said, putting a few cans into the cart.
"Tea?" Jervis asked hopefully.
"Pumpkin spice only," Jonathan said.
"What? But, but Earl Grey! And English breakfast! And Darjeeling! What is it with you and the autumnal season, anyways?" Jervis sulked.
"I am the Scarecrow! My whole theme is slightly fall based. Plus, fall is a very nice season," said Jonathan, dropping some piecrusts in the cart. "Aright, that's everything. Let's check out."
"We don't have any money."
Jonathan shrugged, and then dug into his coat pocket. "Fear gas then." He tossed a few pellets at the cashiers, causing pandemonium.
"Nooo! No more turkey!"
"Help me! I'm turning into a pumpkin! Oh, the awful orange-ness!"
"No! Mother-in-law, no!"
"Well that was interesting," said Jonathan. "Must do a study on seasonal fears…"
"Hey! That doesn't belong to you!" challenged a voice behind them.
"Robin?" said Jervis nervously. "Where's the Bat?"
"Taking care of more important things. But I think I can spare a little time to take you two down," Robin said, pulling out a birdarang.
Jonathan shook his head. "Philistine. It's Thanksgiving, why are you out? Shouldn't you be at home, celebrating with your family?"
"Patrol first, food after," Robin said.
"I can fix that," said Jervis, grabbing a can of pumpkin and throwing it.
Clunk. Thud.
"Great, Jervis. Now we need to carry him back."
"Well, we've got the cart, don't we?"
"Oh, good point. Put him in!"
…
Edward Nygma stirred a bowl full of corn bread batter, waiting for his companions to come back with the rest of the ingredients.
"We're baaack!" came the sing song voice of Jervis.
"And we brought help," added Jonathan, pushing a bound Robin into the kitchen.
"lemme go! I won't let you cook me!" yelled Robin, struggling.
"Cook you? Heavens, no! That's barbaric!" gasped Jervis.
"You can help me cook," said Edward.
"Oh, yeah? And why would I do that?" asked Robin.
"Because we'll give you Thanksgiving dinner," offered Jonathan.
Robin tipped his head to the side. "Well… if I get away, I'll have to contact Batman, and there'll be a big battle, and my dinner will probably end up cold. But on the other hand, if I cooperate, I'll get dinner twice… Ok, I'm in. untie me."
Edward did, then handed him a knife. "Here, chop these onions."
Jonathan snatched the knife away. "Wait, we can't give him a knife! What if he kills us all?"
"Hey! I'm not gonna stab someone! I have a no kill rule!" Robin protested.
Jervis coughed. "What about a no maim rule? Because, once in the cafeteria at Arkham-"
"No maiming. I don't use knives on people," Robin said firmly.
Preparations for dinner continued for the next hour or so, with Robin's help. The turkey was cooked, he stuffing was roasted, the potatoes were mashed, and the table was set, then all were seated.
"I still think Jonathan is obsessed with fall," said Jervis.
"It's. A good. Season," growled Jonathan.
"And now," interrupted Edward, "We will say what we are thankful for. I'll start. I'm thankful for being out of Arkham."
"I'm thankful the Batman was in another part of town when I stole from a store and kidnapped his sidekick," said Jonathan.
"I'm thankful for Lewis Carroll," said Jervis.
"I'm thankful for- well, I can't say because of my secret ID, but I sure am thankful," said Robin.
"Well then just say that you're thankful for your parents or something generic like that," said Jonathan.
"Oooh, my parents!" Robin dissolved into tears.
"Great, Jonathan. Can't we get though a meal without you making a child cry?" complained Edward.
"That time at that restaurant was not my fault!"
"Happy Thanksgiving!" cheered Jervis, digging into the food enthusiastically.