Night falls clear on the Slytherin dorm
Where all are asleep as is the norm

But still there's a spirit, awake and aware
Of what must be done to save this affair

The one called Thanksgiving, the event of the year
Fourth Thursday November, the hour draws near

There's football and turkey and cranberry sauce
Potatoes and gravy made with chicken broth

Popcorn and stuffing and all kinds of pies
But the worst one of all was created by lies

A pizza is glory and majesty too
Pineapples are beauty, we know this is true

But when they're combined, perfection appears
A concoction fantastic that brings all to tears

Perfection unrivaled, how could it be wrecked?
Well what if a horrid taste did intersect?

Ham with pineapple? A horrible thought!
And yet there's a person for whom this path was sought

They've ruined the pizza! All hope has been lost!
The addition of ham is a treacherous cost!

A villain most vile, most vulgar, most cruel
Has turned delicious pizza into horrific gruel

A hero must rise and save all from this blight
But what sort of hero will rise up tonight?

"WAKE UP!"

Susan Bones screams as she jolts in her bed, tangling in the sheets as she instinctively tries to get away from her assailant only to get them caught around her legs and fall to the floor of the dorm. The person waking her up jumps on her bed and looks down on her as Susan tries to fight her way out of her bedcovers.

"What do you want?" she hisses when she finally gets free.

Tracey Davis smiles. "C'mon, Susan! We're going on an adventure!"

Susan just stares at her. She's used to Tracey being flighty every now and again, and trying to draw everyone into her own world, but she has no idea what Susan could be talking about.

"It's the middle of the night!" Susan finally hisses. "Everyone's trying to sleep!"

"So?" Tracey asks normally. "This isn't any normal middle of the night."

"Keep your voice down!" Susan hisses.

"Don't have to," Tracey says. "See, we're in a weird adventure anomaly where nobody else can see or hear us, unless we have business with them."

Susan's mouth opens and closes several times. It takes her several seconds before she finally figures out what she wants to say.

"Tracey," Susan says normally. "Are you telling us that we've been turned into ghosts?"

Tracey thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs. "I guess you could say that. But really, we're heroes. For one day, at least."

Susan begins hyperventilating. "We're dead."

"No, we–"

"We're dead, on Thanksgiving. The one day of the year where a woman can eat as much as she wants and nobody can say SHIT!"

"Susan–"

"I never got to tell my parents goodbye! And what about my little brother? He's gonna wonder why I never came home! Oh, Christ, and what about that chocolate bar I was saving for when I needed a pick-me up? I can't eat it now! I CAN'T EAT ANYTHING NOW! HOW AM I–"

Tracey slaps her across the face. Susan shuts her mouth and looks at her incredulously.

"What?" Tracey defends herself. "You were having a freakout. TV says a good slap is the best way to stop that."

Susan takes a few deep breaths. "You're right. I shouldn't freak out. I should just KILL YOU!"

Tracey's eyes widen. "What? No, I don't think–"

With a roar, Susan launches herself at Tracey and begins trying to hit her–an attempt made harder by the fact that Tracey is kicking at her wildly while shoving Susan's own pillow in her face. This goes on for a few minutes before Susan starts running out of energy, and eventually stops trying to hit Tracey.

"Are we done?" Tracey asks, panting.

"I...guess," Susan says, sounding exhausted. "I can't kill you anyway, seeing as you're a ghost too."

"Oh, we're not ghosts," Tracey says calmly.

Susan blinks. "What."

"We're not ghosts," Tracey repeats. "We're just incorporeal spirits, unobservable to everyone we don't have business with, on a mission to save Thanksgiving."

"What," Susan says flatly.

"Well I guess that's kind of like ghosts," Tracey admits. "Only, we're not dead, and it's only for tonight. Now c'mon!"

"What," Susan says flatly, getting up and following Tracey as she rushes out of the dorms.

"Now c'mon," Tracey says. "We have to find your friend. You know, that girl in Hufflepuff you eat lunch with every week."

"What," Susan says again.

"She's blonde, always flushed like she's just been running, in Hufflepuff, you two hang out like all the time–that girl," Tracey explains. "Do you know where we can find her?"

"Hannah?" Susan asks.

"Oh, is that her name?" Tracey asks. "Where is she?"

"Probably sleeping in the Hufflepuff dorms," Susan supplies. "Wait!"

Tracey doesn't heed her, instead increasing her speed. Susan rushes to catch up.

"Why are you bothering Hannah?" Susan demands.

"Well, we need three people for this," Tracey says.

"Why?" Susan asks incredulously.

"Because if it's only two people, then we have to do the hero and sidekick thing, and no offense, but you're too boring to be a sidekick," Tracey explains without slowing down. "But if there's three of us, then you two can both have conversations while following my lead and making sure that everything goes as planned."

Susan decides not to question this.

"So what are we going to do when we get Hannah, then?" Susan asks.

"We're going to destroy the ancient house elf recipe for Hawaiian pizza," Tracey says determinedly.

"What."

"Because Hawaiian pizza is evil, you see."

"What."

"A blight on mankind. It's because of the ham."

"What."

"Ham. It's horrible. And on pizza that already has pineapple? An affront to all mankind. And wizardkind, too."

"What."

"It's true! Haven't you ever had pineapple pizza?"

"No."

"Well it gets worse when ham is involved. It goes from delicious to absolutely horrible."

"That seems unrealistic."

"Well it's absolutely true. Don't put ham on your pineapple pizza."

"So wait," Susan says. "We're supposed to save pineapple pizza from ham?"

"That's absolutely right," Tracey agrees as they float into the Hufflepuff dorms.

"So you're saying that we were enlisted to fight the scourge of Hawaiian pizza?" Susan queries.

"That's right."

"That's ridiculous."

"Oh is it?" Tracey asks. "You know what else is ridiculous? A crew on a spaceship fighting off evil monsters and keeping peace throughout the galaxy. A time-traveling weirdo with superpowers saving the world and pretending to be a doctor despite never going to college. An evil villain making several copies of his soul that need to be destroyed. Barry Bonds having the career home run record!"

"What's your point?" Susan asks wearily.

"My point is that everything is ridiculous until you have to do something about it. Now WAKE UP, TRACEY'S FRIEND!"

Hannah springs up in her bed, shocked. "What? Huh? Enh?"

"That's not even a question," Tracey says calmly. "Now c'mon, we have to destroy Hawaiian pizza!"

"What."

"I'll explain on the way," Susan says, grabbing Hannah's arm and taking her along with them.

"...this makes no sense," Hannah says flatly.

"Just go with it," Tracey says. "We're all ghost-like beings. So now, we must destroy Hawaiian pizza!"

"That's ridiculous," Hannah says.

"Yeah," Susan agrees. "We should just go back to bed. No one can see us anyway."

"And let down whatever spirits gave us this gift and this duty?" Tracey asks incredulously. "No way!"

"Tracey," Hannah says. "You honestly believe that the spirits want us to perform a mission relating to ham-and-pineapple pizza?"

"Yes," Tracey says. "Now–"

The door to the kitchen slides open, revealing a house elf.

"Hello," the house elf says. "I've been expecting you."

"Good," Tracey says. "Then you know–"

"Yes," the house elf agrees. "I do."

The house elf brandishes a chainsaw and rushes at them.

"HOLY FUCK!" Hannah screams, diving one way. Susan dives the other, and Tracey just looks from side to side before trying to jump over the house elf. Unsurprisingly, she succeeds, as house elves are very short.

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" Susan yells, climbing to her feet.

The house elf fixes its eyes on her. "LICIS WILL NOT PERMIT YOU TO STOP THE FEAST!"

"Wait, what?" Susan asks, looking at Tracey.

Tracey runs over and boots the house elf in the rear before it can charge Susan. The chainsaw goes flying and embeds itself in a portrait of an incredibly ugly old man.

In an Australian nightclub, an incredibly attractive young man shrieks and collapses on the bar. When he's pulled up from his position, the clubgoers are treated to a shock, as he has somehow transformed into an incredibly disgusting elderly corpse with the marks of a life of sin all over him.

"We have to eat the pineapples!" Tracey declares, running for the door.

"What?" Susan and Hannah echo, following her in.

They skid to a stop just inside the kitchen. Thirty house elves are waiting for them, all brandishing chainsaws.

"FUCK!" the trio of girls declare simultaneously.

The house elves rev their chainsaws. The three look around the kitchen wildly, hoping to find an escape. That's when Tracey's eyes alight on thirty pineapples.

"We have to eat the pineapples!" Tracey declares.

"WHAT?" Susan and Hannah ask, shocked.

"Ten each! Let's go!" Tracey says, running towards the pineapples.

"ARE YOU MAD?" the two other girls cry.

"We either eat them or shove them up our asses, so let's get to it!" Tracey says.

Tracey steps on several house elves as she sprints towards the pineapples. She grabs one and then notices an industrial size blender. She begins throwing the pineapples into the blender. Hannah and Susan rush over and follow her lead.

"NO!" the house elves scream. They march towards the girls, chainsaws in action.

When the last pineapple is in, Hannah slams down the liquify button. The house elves continue approaching.

"So, Tracey, any more bright ideas?" Susan asks sarcastically.

Tracey looks around. Seeing no other options, her face grows determined, and she picks up the blender.

"Tracey?" Susan asks nervously.

"RUN FOR IT!" Tracey yells.

She takes off, performing an end-around against the house elves, and her friends follow. The house elves give chase, but the girls slip out the kitchen door. Unfortunately, just before they do, the blender runs out of cord and is ripped from the wall. It grinds to a stop just after they enter the hallway, and the house elves pour out, looking for blood.

"TRACEY!" Susan screams, scared. "WHAT DO WE DO NOW?"

"We have to drink it," Tracey says calmly.

Hannah and Susan look at her as if she's insane. That's when Tracey rips the lid off the blender and tilts it into her mouth. She manages to swallow almost a third of the blended pineapple (high in pulp!) before coming up for air.

"I can't take any more," she gasps. "You two have to finish it."

"Are you nuts?" Hannah asks.

Tracey stuffs the blender into Susan's hands and falls to her knees. Seeing no harm, Susan gulps down as much pineapple as she can before handing the blender to Hannah.

"I don't even like pineapple!" Hannah complains.

The house elves continue to advance. Hannah gulps deeply, and then tips the container into her mouth. Slowly, the level of pineapple recedes until all that's left is the dregs. Once she finishes, Hannah drops the blender and falls to her hands and knees, wheezing heavily.

"Do what you want," she chokes out. "But it won't bring your pineapples back."

The house elves glare, but stop advancing and lay down their chainsaws. Then, as a group, they all head back to the kitchen to prepare for the now pineapple-free feast.

When the three girls are found outside the kitchen on Thanksgiving Day, they each lose ten points for their houses.

They also have to spend a lot of time on the toilet, since that much pineapple neither goes in nor comes out easy.

(Technically it's coming out easy, given that it's coming out as really watery diarrhea, but there's still an immense amount of it.)

So as they spend their Thanksgiving in stalls next to each other, they naturally converse on the significance of the pineapple.

"Why?" Hannah wails after a particularly large expulsion. "Why did you drag us down there to eat blended pineapples?"

"I told you," Tracey says. She gulps, but nothing happens. "We need to destroy Hawaiian pizza. It's a blight on the land."

"Not that I disagree with that–" Susan pauses midsentence for obvious and disgusting reasons. "–but WHY DOES THAT REQUIRE US TO BE ON THE TOILET?"

"Because if we didn't, the house elves would've mixed ham with pineapple," Tracey explains.

Hannah groans for multiple reasons. "Pineapples with ham is a tradition, Tracey."

"Even if it's a defilement of the pineapple," Susan says. "It still doesn't mean they were planning to serve Hawaiian pizza on Thanksgiving."

"But they do that every year!" Tracey explains. "Except for this one. Because they can't!"

"Fine, whatever," Hannah says. "But why do we need to get rid of Hawaiian pizza?"

"Oh, I was told by a magical spirit that we needed to extinguish it from the Earth," Tracey says. "But we can only do our work on Thanksgiving, when we turn into vengeful spirit-creature things that can only be perceived by those we have business with." She gives a courtesy flush. "But unfortunately, we didn't complete our mission to destroy the ancient house elf recipe for Hawaiian pizza."

"What," Hannah and Susan say flatly.

"Yeah," Tracey says. She lets out a deluge. "I guess we'll have to try again next year."

Susan and Hannah let out loud groans.