Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. But you'd know if it was.

Rating: This is PG13 for a reason, and if I could make it PG16 or something, I would.

Pairings: None, though I hint at everything.

Summary: Josef rants about the holidays throughout the year.

Warning: This work of fiction may contain material that is offensive to some people. If bashing religious and non-religious holidays bothers you, you have been warned. I would like to remind the readers that this fanfic does not reflect my opinions on any of the following: religion, politics, life, death, love and any other topic you don't like people to piss on. I am simply trying to write as a fictional character. Apologies in advance to all those who are offended.

AS I SEE IT...
Chapter 8
Oh My God! It Was Pregnant!

"No. No no no and no. Oh, and did I mention no?" The minute Mick called, I knew what my answer would be. He knows I hate Thanksgiving and if I have to see one more stupid dead bird, I just might stake myself.

Honestly, I don't get what's so great about them. Dead, plucked, greasy birds. It almost makes that vegan blood of Mick's sound appetizing.

"Yes you did, Josef. Six times now."

It was November something-or-another. Thanksgiving. I'd known it was getting close ever since I saw the Christmas decorations in the same windows displaying November calendars. The arrival of any vampire's least favorite holiday.

Mine as well, but not for the reasons you might think. I don't care that I can't eat. Blood is delicious. I'm not all moody on Thanksgiving because of the whole 'being thankful' thing. And I'm not sad that I don't have a family to spend the holiday with.

That's what Mick and the appetizer are for.

And the appetizer's boyfriend, apparently.

See, this year Beth invited Mick and I to spend Thanksgiving with her and Josh, and when Mick insists on these things, I find it very hard to refuse. Anyways, it's not like I had anything better to do, and he knew it.

On the other hand, I was just dying to meet this boyfriend of Blondie's. He must be something special if Beth would choose him over her "guardian angel".

I spent most of the day at Mick's place, watching the stupid Thanksgiving parade then watching Mick drool over Beth as she covered some story involving sabotage on the giant Pikachu balloon. Boring!

"So, Mick, tell me…" I began. "How do we explain to Blondie's boyfriend why we aren't eating anything?"

Mick shrugged, obviously only half-paying attention. "We'll think of something," he replied. I grumbled and sank back into the couch. This day was looking more boring by the minute.

I grabbed the remote from Mick and began flipping through the channels—"Hey! I was watching that!"—pausing here and there whenever I found something interesting. Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving… Boring. More Thanksgiving specials… Boring. Cooking shows… They were showing how to cook what looked like a mini-turkey.

"Well, that's just adorable," I said, voice laced with sarcasm. "Is that for the dieting supermodels and anorexic jackasses to share?"

"It's a Cornish hen, Josef," Mick said, rolling his eyes. "It says so at the bottom of the screen."

I glanced down. "Oh, so it does…" I said airily. "Here, take the remote. There's nothing else on."

"Thank you. You're so considerate," he said just as sarcastically.

I sipped on my glass of blood in boredom, hardly noticing the vile taste. There was no way out. I was doomed to a night of boredom and doomed to an afternoon of cooking. Apparently, Beth seemed to think asking vampires for help in the kitchen was a good idea. I was vaguely reminded of Animaniacs and the 'Good Idea, Bad Idea' sketches.

"Hey, Mick," I said lightly. "You do realize we can't cook, right?"

He frowned. "I'm sure Beth knows what she's doing. She'll tell us what to do."

"I certainly hope so." I stood up, setting my empty glass beside his. "I'll meet you over there, okay?" I informed him slyly. "There's something I have to grab first."

"Oh no, Josef, what are you planning this—"

I slammed the door before he could finish his sentence.

--

My errand brought me face-to-face with at least seven Santas ringing bells in front of stores. One of them looked a little bit familiar, though…

"Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me!" I exclaimed as I caught a whiff of the guy. "Don't you have a conscience?"

A vampire. Dressed as Santa. That has got to be the ultimate disgrace!

"Hey, I've got my reasons!" he whined. Right. I didn't even know the guy, but if I see him again, I think I might strangle him.

I found what I was looking for rather quickly, which wasn't that big of a surprise, considering what day it was. Hell, Cornish hens were even on sale! I glanced at the large clock on the wall. Oh, well. I guess Mick won't mind if I go back to his place early.

--

Mick was just about to leave when I arrived. "I thought you had to get something," he said curiously.

"I did. It was a bit easier to find than I thought."

He frowned suspiciously. "I don't suppose you're gonna tell me what it is?"

"Right you are, Mick!" I said, grinning. "It's a surprise."

We were in Mick's car, about halfway to Beth's place, when he noticed it. "Josef, what's in the bag?"

I shrugged. "Well, if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

"What kind of surprise are we talking about?" he asked. "Nothing like the last few times we've met up for holidays, right?"

"You'll see," I said cryptically. He mumbled something under his breath that I assumed to be a threat of sorts, but I ignored it. If Mick and Beth wouldn't make this joke of a holiday interesting, then I volunteer!

--

"Oh, thank goodness you're here!" exclaimed Beth as she opened the door. "I've never made Thanksgiving dinner by myself before! I need all the help I can get."

"Including help from two vampires who don't know how to cook?" I commented sarcastically. "Your funeral."

She ignored me, as she'd taken a habit of doing since Halloween. "What's in the bag?"

I rolled my eyes. "You asked us to help you cook, so I found some food you can use. Honestly, you always assume I'm—"

She ignored me again. "Alright you two. Everything's in the kitchen. Mick, I want you to peel potatoes, and Josef, you can just stay out of the way."

"No way!" I protested. "I get dibs on the dead bird."

Mick winced. "Josef, you admitted you can't cook. Why don't you just help with the potatoes?"

"Because I know how to stuff a chicken!"

"Turkey," Beth corrected.

"Whatever. A big dead bird. I know how to stuff it."

Beth sighed. "Fine. But only if you don't mess it up. Now, Mick, about those potatoes…"

I smirked. Perfect. After Beth had shown Mick how to properly peel the potatoes without slicing his finger off, I proceeded to stuff the turkey. "What's with the Cornish hen?" Mick asked, as I pulled the mini-chicken out of the bag.

"Oh, this? I thought Beth would like it." I tried to put on my best innocent face, but either Mick had known me too long, or I just can't look harmless to save my life.

"Right," he said sarcastically. "You just wanted to get into the spirit of thanksgiving, didn't you?"

"Something like that," I replied. "In my own unique way."

He shook his head. "It's your 'uniqueness' that worries me, Josef."

"Oh ye of little faith," I pouted. "I'm not going to ruin Thanksgiving. I promise."

Mick glanced at me doubtfully. "And if you do?"

"Then I'll go to Blondie's Christmas party."

"I'll remember that," he said, turning back to the potatoes.

I grinned. I never said I would ruin Thanksgiving. I just wanted to add a bit of entertainment to the evening. No harm in that, right?

--

Beth's boyfriend arrived sometime between the time she put the turkey in the oven and started playing 'Walk Like an Egyptian' on her CD player. I hate that song, and I hate the smell of cooking birds.

When she went back into the kitchen, I smacked the CD player. "Oh, look at that. It's skipping." I grabbed the remote. "I'll just see what's on TV, okay?"

"Josef, you're an ass!" Beth called from the kitchen. Then the doorbell rang. There was a thump and a muffled curse as Beth tripped over something as she hurried to the door.

"Three guesses who it is," I said monotonously. Mick shrugged. "Have I met this guy?"

"I don't think so," he replied. "Just promise me you won't—"

Beth walked in at that very moment with her boyfriend in tow, so whatever I wasn't supposed to do was lost in her sudden babble. "Josh, you've already met Mick," she said.

"Who're you?" Josh asked me suddenly.

Well, gee! That was rude. "I'm one of your girlfriend's culinarily retarded kitchen slaves," I said. "You must be the boyfriend we've heard so much about. What was your name again? John? Jake?"

"Josh," he said, as Beth smacked her hand over her eyes.

"This is Josef," she said in resignation. "He's one of Mick's friends."

I gasped in mock outrage. "Well, I like to think I'm one of your friends too!" I argued. "Why else would I let Mick drag me over here when everyone knows I hate holiday celebrations?"

"Yes, Josef, I'm sure this is absolute torture for you," Mick commented sarcastically. "And if I didn't know for a fact that you have ulterior motives, I probably wouldn't have called you."

Beth sighed. "Well, that's enough introductions for now," she said. "I think the turkey's done, so we can eat in about ten minutes."

"Goodie," I said, rolling my eyes. Mick shook his head as Josh glared at me. Well, I do believe I've just made a new enemy. It's not even 6:00!

--

"Are you sure you don't need any help in there?" Mick asked for the umpteenth time, as Beth cursed loudly.

"I'm fine!" she called. "The turkey's just a bit hot."

The three of us tried to make civil conversation. "So, ah, Josh, right?" Josh nodded, still glaring. "I'm assuming you don't exactly like me, right?"

"Pretty close," he replied. "But I'm assuming you have that effect on most people."

"That I do," I said casually. "I'm surprised Mick still puts up with me."

Mick winced. "Well, you're not as horrible as you like to think you are. It just takes a few years to get used to you."

Josh tried to continue the conversation. "So, how do you two know Beth?"

I shrugged. "Mick introduced me. Long story."

"And the even longer story is why she puts up with him," Mick said.

Josh frowned at me. "Wait, are you the one who put the fish in her bathtub while she was at the baby shower?"

I grinned. "Oh, so you heard about that."

"Hey, Josef?" asked Mick suddenly. "what did you do with the Cornish hen?"

I was saved from further explanation by an ear-splitting shriek from the kitchen. Josh and Mick jumped to their feet as though they'd been wired to an outlet, and they ran to the kitchen. I peered in as they both tried to calm Beth down.

Once she finally stopped sobbing, she pointed to the turkey with a shaking finger. "What's wrong?" asked Josh.

"It… it…" Beth stuttered. I smirked until Mick shot a killer death glare in my direction. "It was pregnant!!"

Josh arched an eyebrow. "What?" he said doubtfully.

"Just look! Look inside it!" Beth shrieked hysterically. "There's a baby turkey in there!"

"Beth, turkeys lay eggs," Mick said comfortingly. "It can't be pregnant."

Beth sniffled loudly. "Then… what…" Josh reached inside the turkey and pulled out…

A Cornish hen.

"JOSEF!" all three shouted at the same time.

Author's note: Well, I hope you enjoyed it! Next time: Christmas! I'd do Hanukah too, but I don't know anything about it. Or, at least, not enough to do a good parody fic. Sorry, guys!