A/n: I love the holidays. It's a drabble. Nothing special.
Autumn in Liberty City was usually rather cold. Something different from Los Santos. Packie McReary remembered his days of old sitting at the dining table holding hands of his siblings, heads bowed, eyes closed praying to God All Mighty with over whelming thankfulness in their hearts. He missed the smell of turkey as the aroma filled his nostrils with a deep inhale.
Things were different now.
Now he stood in line at the grocery store behind an obnoxious blonde and her fat brother. They argued while at the register and held up the line. Something about what type of pie Franklin would like.
Wait – how many guys in San Andreas could be named Franklin? Packie simply shrugged. Many men could be named Franklin.
Why he agreed to have Thanksgiving dinner at Michael's house, he'll never know. Franklin beat his head against the steering wheel of his car multiple times. Amanda stared at him awkwardly considering he was already in the drive way doing so. She thought she should maybe tap the window of his car and say something, but then she thought against it. He just seemed like Michael to her then.
If Michael was black and twenty something years old.
Then she thought Michael and his temper would be the least of her problems when she saw Trevor pull up behind her husband's protégé. Her mouth opened wide to scream but no sound came out because before she could Michael cut her off with a kiss and whispered to her "be nice".
Why she agreed to let her husband invite his criminal friends to their house for Thanksgiving was something she'd never know.
"Hey T." Michael said and greeted him as he hopped out his truck. Trevor went in the back and took out two gallons of some brown colored liquid. "…wha – what's that?"
"Apple Cider. What did you think it was Mikey boy?" Trevor responded with mild offense.
"I just – you're not just saying that?"
"Oh yeah I am. It's actually Ron's urine. He's ill which is why it's brown." Michael stared at Trevor in disgust. Trevor stared back at Michael with a bizarre smile. "I lied. It is cider."
Franklin looked out the window and saw Trevor and Michael walk up to the front door. He decided to get out the vehicle for he was already sucked in. There was no way to avoid his poor fate. He stepped out the car and slammed it causing the other males to turn around and look.
"Finally ready to join us, Frank?" Michael asked. "You know Trevor and I can't be left alone."
"That's right. He's afraid I'll rape him." Trevor shoved a gallon of cider in Franklin's chest which was unexpected for Franklin, who dropped it and had it burst once hitting the ground, wetting his shoes, socks and pants.
"How unfortunate." Michael said.
"Yeah. How unfortunate." Trevor repeated.
"…" Franklin didn't say a word. He'd be with Trevor and the De Santa's all night. This was the least of his trouble.
Amanda tied the apron around her waist tight. She angry for various reasons. Trevor was here. Her maid took a two week vacation so her shopping was twice as hard and she still was missing key dishes like pie. Her children hadn't returned with the pie as of yet and Trevor was here.
A nightmare. It was simply a nightmare.
"You can change into something of mine." Michael told Franklin as they walked up the stairs to his bedroom. Michael brought Franklin to the closet and Trevor followed. The two older men sat on Michael's luxury bed and waited for Franklin.
"Just come out the closet." Trevor crooned.
"That's actually funny." Michael told him.
"I know." The two older men snickered and Franklin sat on the floor of Michael's closet smoking a blunt given to him by Lamar. In his own way, he sought out his revenge, just early.
"Hey sugar boy, wanna come outside and shake what ya' daddy gave ya?" Trevor called out from the bedroom. He and Michael were so caught up in laughter they didn't notice the smell – well not at first. Then they did. And then they ran in.
Franklin giggled a bit. He looked up and saw his comrades staring at him wide eyed like children in a candy store. "Want some?" He coughed.
"No. Yes. No. Yes. Yes, it's yes right T?" Trevor stared at Michael and was amazed that his longtime friend was so eager. It brought him joy. Maybe too much joy.
Amanda threw herself in the sofa. Her kitchen was filled with smoke and the fire alarm went off. She quit. The turkey was burnt, her children hadn't returned with any pie and she just didn't give a fuck. She turned on the television and saw one of Michael's favorite holiday movies on. She found peace within the conflicting noise of the television and alarm. A peace she hoped would last forever.
Tracey and Jimmy sat in Amanda's car eating their own individual pie while parked outside the house. They didn't speak and had no forks, so made use of their hands. Though it was a bit untidy, people in Ethiopia ate with their hands, so it's not like it was inhumane.
Franklin, still dressed in denim wet at the legs with apple cider, laughed hysterically with Trevor and Michael in the closet. The three men sat on the ground and were as high as kites. It was a cool, mellow type of weed. They found themselves enjoying each other's company and too under the influence to have anything proper to say. Every word that was enunciated sounded far more ridiculous than it was. From there, the laughter would begin.
This was the sort of holiday that suited them best.
Packie sat in front of the television in his dilapidated apartment. He opened his fourth bottle of beer and ate another slice of pumpkin pie. His phone rang as it sat in the sofa. It vibrated against the fabric with a number that was unknown. He placed the beer between his legs and answered the phone.
"Yeah, hello?"
"Happy Thanksgiving Packie." A familiar voice said. A smile graced Packie's face.
"You too Niko. You too."
A/n: Happy Thanksgiving.