AN-Hey, I already said this in my other fic, if you read it, but I'm posting it again. My football team (University of Florida Gators) are playing Miranda Cosgrove's football team this Saturday, Oct. 20th! How awesome is that? Sorry, and now onto the story…Oh, and did I really forget a request? I didn't think I did, but it's possible that that happened. If I did, I'm really sorry and just let me know and I'll put it up right away.
And this oneshot involves Epic Meal Time, which basically makes all these cool, high cal meals. I was unfamiliar with it before I got this request, so I'm sorry if there's any inaccuracies here. I tried my best!
….
Span
Freddie Benson walked downstairs, yawning. He had just woken up and had been surprised to find that his wife, Sam, had apparently gotten up before him, which had happened only once before in their ten years of marriage, and that circumstance had involved watching a 7 AM premiere of the latest Boogie Bear movie.
"Sam?" Freddie called, looking around the empty living room.
"What?" Sam answered back from the kitchen.
"What are you doing up?" Freddie yawned, heading into the kitchen. "It's not even eight o'clock yet."
"It's Thanksgiving, remember?" Sam said, rummaging through the refrigerator. "And we're stuck cooking this year…again."
"Yeah, I know that," Freddie nodded. "But you've never gotten up this early to cook before for Thanksgiving. I mean, the turkey's been defrosting in the fridge, so it should only take about five hours to cook, and since we're not eating until four, you don't need to worry about that right now."
"We're not going to have boring old turkey this year, Fredwad," Sam said, grinning as she pulled out a large bag from the refrigerator.
Freddie frowned. "Um, what do you mean?"
"It was going to be a surprise," Sam said, setting the bag down on the counter and walking over to her open laptop at the table. "But I'll show you…Last week I was surfing the web and I came across the most amazing video in existence."
"I thought you said the video with the monkey flossing the cat's teeth was the most amazing video," Freddie said as Sam pulled up a web page.
"It just moved down to number two," Sam said. "This video's even better. Look at it!"
"What the heck is TurBacon?" Freddie frowned, looking at the screen.
"The most delectable, meatiest creation to ever be created," Sam said. "You know how people make Turduckens? You know, put a chicken inside of a duck inside of a turkey?"
"Sure," Freddie nodded.
"Well these genius people," Sam said, nodding at the video. "Do that, plus stuff it with quail and Cornish game hen. And then, they wrap the whole thing in bacon, stuff it in a pig, wrap the pig in bacon, and then cook it."
"You're kidding," Freddie cringed. "That's like, six types of meat!"
"I know!" Sam said excitedly.
"And what exactly was wrong with just a plain old turkey?" Freddie asked, still staring at the screen with a look of disgust and amusement.
"Would you seriously rather have something so…bland, when you could be having the TurBacon?" Sam said, shaking her head.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Freddie said. "The video just showed that this is over 70,000 calories! This has to be the most unhealthiest thing in America, and that's saying something!"
"Calm down, it's only 70,000 calories if you eat the entire thing," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "Let's see, we have ten adults coming over, including us. Not counting Tyler, since he can't eat solid food, we have eight kids, who will probably eat half of what the adults eat. Well, Emma will probably eat close to full serving…But anyway, if you divide it up that way, it's really not any more than like, 3000 calories a serving."
"And that's not an insane amount?"
"Oh for the love of chiz, it's Thanksgiving, today's not the day to be counting calories, Fredward," Sam said. "Now here, take this hen and stuff it in the quail, will you. I'm going to check on Tyler."
"You realize this meal is probably going to cut everyone's life spans in half," Freddie said.
"If you don't stop bashing on my TurBacon, I'll end your life span right now," Sam said.
"Love you too, baby," Freddie said.
"Yeah, yeah," Sam laughed, giving her husband a quick kiss. "But seriously, start stuffing those birds!"
…
"A what?" Carly frowned.
"TurBacon," Sam said, as Carly set a bowl of potatoes on the counter.
"That sounds more unhealthy than all of the combos at Inside-Out Burger put together," Carly said. "You know, I'm still trying to loose my baby weight."
"You had Clarissa six years ago, Carls," Freddie pointed out.
"Yes, thank you, Freddie," Carly snapped.
"Hey, I think I've heard of that," Spencer said, placing his contribution, a plate of spaghetti tacos, on the counter. "Did you find it on that Epic Meal Time website?"
"Yes!" Sam said. "Isn't that website the best?"
"Um, yeah!" Spencer nodded. "I made this amazing lasagna from there with like, ten types of cheese!"
"And then he spent over an hour trying to fit into his pants the next morning," Spencer's wife, Ella, said.
"They shrunk in the wash, that had nothing to do with it!"
"So where is this TurBacon cooking?" Carly asked, looking around the kitchen. "It doesn't sound like it could fit in your oven."
"Nope, I'm making Gibby take it out of the smoker in the yard as we speak," Sam said. She turned to Freddie. "You know what? Leaving Gibby unattended out there probably isn't the best idea…Go help him. The last thing I need is him janking up my masterpiece."
"I'm on it," Freddie nodded.
"Okay, want to help me get the kids ready?" Sam asked Carly. "Everything else is ready to go."
"Sure," Carly agreed.
The two headed into the living room. Carly's daughter, Clarissa was sitting on the couch with Freddie and Sam's daughter, Ashton, playing with Gibby's toddler son, Huey.
"What are you girls doing?" Carly asked.
"We're playing house," Clarissa said.
"Aw, how cute," Carly grinned. "But why don't you girls go and wash up? Dinner's almost ready."
"Hey, where's Emma?" Sam asked, picking up her one-year old, Tyler, from his playpen.
"I'm right here!" Emma said. She had been going through one of the drawers of the T.V. stand. "I'm looking for tape."
"Why?" Sam asked.
"Because she wants to tape Quincy to the floor," Ashton explained.
"What?" Quincy, Gibby's oldest son, who had been sitting quietly, watching T.V. exclaimed. "I don't want to be taped!"
"You weren't supposed to tell him, Ashton!" Emma frowned.
"Nobody's taping anybody," Sam said, kneeling down to grab the tape from Emma's hand. But not before whispering in her ear, "If you have to do that, do it when your dad's watching you guys."
After rounding up all of the kids and getting them finally seated at the table, Freddie and Gibby came in from the yard, each carrying a side of a large tray where the massive TurBacon rested.
"Whoa, what is that?" Sam and Freddie's oldest child, Jason asked as the men set it down on the table.
"Turbacon," Sam said. "It's a turkey and chicken and duck and quail and hen all wrapped in bacon."
"Bacon?" Emma repeated her eyes widening. "I want some!"
"Relax, Em, you'll get some," Freddie laughed. He turned to Sam. "I swear, she's going to be eating more than you by the time she's ten."
"Can we just eat this thing already?" Gibby asked, taking his seat. "I swear, it was looking at me the whole time it was cooking. I just want it gone now."
"Okay, okay, keep your pants on," Sam said, grabbing a knife from the counter. "I'm cutting it!"
Once everyone had his of her plates, Sam took her seat next to Freddie.
"Well," Freddie said as he began cutting the slab of meat on his plate. "Let's see how six types of meat stuffed together tastes." He put his fork in his mouth.
"So?" Sam said, watching his expression.
"Oh my God," Freddie said, chewing. "This is the most amazing thing I've ever had!"
"Yeah, Sam," Carly nodded, tasting her own meat. "Even though I'll never get back into that purple dress I like now, I think I'll have seconds of this!"
"Come on, I don't think it's that bad for you," Spencer said, chewing. "Sure, it's bacon and turkey, and-Aw man, my pant button just popped! Dang washing machine, shrinking all my pants…"
"Yeah, it's the washer's fault," Sam grinned.
"Mommy?" Emma asked, holding up her now empty plate. "Am I allowed to have more?"
"You already finished?" Sam asked. "Wow Em, you eat faster than me."
"She stole my piece too," Quincy added.
"Well, at least we won't have to worry about leftovers," Freddie laughed, giving Quincy another piece of meat, and cutting a small second piece for Emma. "Between Sam and Emma, they'll have this TurBacon cleaned up in no time."
…..
"Well, I got everyone to bed," Sam said, dragging her feet into the kitchen later. "Man, I don't think I've been this full ever."
"Well, that TurBacon was huge," Freddie said, loading the dishwasher.
"Yeah, I'm definitely making that again next Thanksgiving," Sam nodded. "Luckily, I saved myself the last bit of it so I can eat it tomorrow for lunch."
Freddie frowned. "Wait…that was your leftover TurBacon in there?"
"Yes," Sam said, narrowing her eyes. "Why? What happened to it?"
"Um," Freddie mumbled. "I might have…eaten it."
"Freddie!" Sam exclaimed, hitting his shoulder.
"Sorry," Freddie said, massaging his shoulder. "But it's just because you cooked it so well."
"Oh don't try and flatter your way out of this, nub," Sam snapped. "And anyway, you were the one saying how terrible it was for you. What happened to all that?"
"Well, I guess after being married to you for ten years, your eating habits have finally rubbed off on me," Freddie grinned.
"So does that mean we can finally throw out all of those low-fat snacks that your mom keeps sending over?" Sam asked.
Freddie laughed and pulled her into an embrace. "Sure, it's not like anybody ever ate them."
"Good," Sam smiled, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck. "Now you'd better hope your lips still taste like that TurBacon…"
