I do not own Gravity Falls.

Prompt: Turkey

Cooking the Christmas Turkey

Staring at the turkey resting on the countertop, Ford then cast his glance over to the recipe scrawled out on a piece of lined paper. "Maybe we should cross-reference with other turkey recipes to make sure we're doing it right."

"Why would we do that?" asked Stan incredulously, inspecting an onion and deeming it fresh enough, started to chop it. "We needed instructions on how to cook a turkey and we found one."

"There's probably plenty of methods and techniques used in which to cook a turkey," replied Ford.

Stan rolled his eyes. "This isn't some experiment. All we need is to not burn it, not undercook it, and basically not give anyone food poisoning."

"Then maybe you should leave and let me handle this," quipped Ford.

Flicking a piece of onion skin at him, Stan drawled, "Very funny. Chop that carrot. Try not to lose a finger."

Heaving out a sigh, Ford complied, having an unshakeable feeling that this endeavor was not going to turn out how they hoped it would. After he finished cutting up the carrot, he went on to celery as Stan chopped up the sage. When their preparation was ready, Stan squinted at the recipe.

"Okay, we gotta put this junk in the roasting pan. But we have to melt some butter in a pot with the sage."

Ford stared at the foil pan Stan dumped the vegetables in. "We don't have an actual roasting pan?"

"I dunno. You remember cooking a turkey or ham or chicken in here ever?"

"Fair point."

Stan set the turkey on top of the vegetables. "Now we have to put the salt, pepper and spicy stuff inside the turkey." He stared at the pale, raw hunk of meat for a moment, nose curling with disgust. "I'm not doing it."

"I've had to do more unpleasant things," said Ford, mixing together the three seasonings and then putting a bit of the mixture inside the turkey.

"…what sorts of things?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Not really."

"Didn't think so," said Ford in amusement.

Stan put some butter in a pot and waited until it was melted completely. When it was, he added the rosemary and sage and cooked it. When it was finished he stuffed the inside of the turkey with the herbs and then brushed the outside of the turkey with the rest of the melted butter. Ford sprinkled the rest of the seasoning mixture and Stan hefted the bird into the oven, dropping it onto the heated metal rack ungracefully.

"You and Mabel have the disturbing habit of forgetting your oven mitts," observed Ford with a frown.

"Nah. Mabel actually forgets. I just don't bother."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"You worry too much. How long does this thing take to cook?"

Ford took a quick glance at the recipe. "At least three hours."

Stan did a double take, mouth falling open slightly. "Three hours?!"

"It's not a frozen pizza, Stanley. It's a frozen turkey."

"I can see that," snapped Stan in annoyance. "Why does it have to take so long?"

"To properly and thoroughly cook the meat inside out. It's not safe to eat undercooked meat."

"Great," grumbled Stan. "Guess we'll see how this sucker turns out in three hours."

…

Turns out they didn't have to wait nearly as long. An hour after they placed the turkey in the oven, they were alerted by the strong stench of smoke. When they rushed into the kitchen it was to see an orange glow behind the oven door.

There was a brief moment of initial panic, a lot of hollering and swearing and some shoving. Stan rushed over and yanked open the door, flinching back as the flames flickered out. Ford hastily came up behind him and slammed the door shut once again.

"We have to let the flames die out!" he snapped. "Giving them oxygen is only going to make things worse."

"But the turkey!" Stan protested.

"Never mind the turkey!"

They stood and waited, and eventually the flames extinguished by themselves. Slipping on oven mitts, Ford gingerly removed the scorched foil pan. Squinting at the bottom of the oven and noticing burn chunks, he identified the problem.

"You spilled the drippings when you put the turkey in," he said tiredly. "That's what started the fire."

Stan blinked. Then he shrugged. "Good thing this was a test run. If we tried this for the first time on Christmas Day we'd end up having Chinese food. Again."