Chapter 3: "Stale Turkey. Gobble gobble, it won't scrobble."
Everyone, except Mr. Leon, who was setting up the table in the dining room, walked into the kitchen to fix themselves a plate of food. "I thought you guys were cooking desserts," Rezzy said. "Well," Mrs. Leon pointed out, "when we finished up the desserts, we allowed them to sit in the fridge to keep, or get, cold, then we started cooking up the good shit! Of course, you weren't paying attention because you were too busy listening to that Rat Head."
"IT'S RADIOHEAD, MOM, SHEESH!"
"Whatever! Radiohead, Ratiohead, same difference! Just shut up and eat up!"
"Whatever," Rezzy said while slapping some mashed potatoes on his plate.
After everyone fixed up their plates and sat down at the table, Mr. Leon decided to turn the TV off after fixing up the table. He then fixed himself a plate of food and sat down lastly. "Now then," he went on to say, "is there anyone who would like to say grace?" Rezzy then raised his right hand to volunteer. "Anyone at all?", Mr. Leon continued. "Anyone BESIDES REZZY?" Rezzy then decided to wave his hand to make sure he gets picked to say grace. "Well then," Mr. Leon said, "I guess I'll say grace then!" "WHAT?!", Rezzy said abruptly.
"Rezzy, son, please calm down. Let us join hands." Everyone did so, as Rezzy pouted, "fine."
"Dear Lord, John Lennon," Mr. Leon started. "We thank you fo-,"
"Thomas," Mrs. Leon interrupted. "Either say grace the right way, or don't say it at all."
"Fine then," Mr. Leon responded. "Do it yourself then!"
"Maybe I will!"
"Maybe? THEN DO IT!"
"Fine then! I will!"
"Good!"
"Great!"
A few seconds of silence passed by after that was said. I think it was four seconds... and a half... to be exact. In between those four-and-a-half seconds, a cough from Perry was the only thing heard. "You know what?", Marie said, "Why don't we just dig in? I'm sure we can bless this food mentally." Everyone nodded their heads except for Rezzy's parents, who were starting to stare sternly into each other's eyes. Afterwards, everyone started to eat. However, not a single word was spoken. "Oh boy," Rezzy said, "this turkey sure is good, huh, Perry?" "Uh huh," Perry mumbled with his mouth full. "Last year," he went on to say, "the turkey was so fucking dry, it made my mouth dry itself. Drinking water didn't even made it moist. It was very... overcooked, you can say?" "You take that back," Mr. Leon demanded towards Perry. "What? The turkey was shit!"
"That was last year. How about this year? HUH?"
"Well, it tastes a bit more moist this year. Just only a bit. Still could be more juicy, though."
Just as Mr. Leon was about to say something towards Perry, the phone rang. "I'll answer that," he said, temporarily leaving the dinner table. While he went on to talk with the caller, Rezzy started to feel uncomfortable. "No, sir," Mr. Leon's voice echoes from the living room. "I'm pretty sure he was not at the Q Store that night. Y... you... Okay... Ah, you see? I was worried about him, too. He didn't arrive home until about midnight. How did you obtain this number? He gave it to you? Ah, interesting... So he was at the Q Store. See, he didn't told me this himself. Okay, I understand. Okay. You be safe now! There's a lot of drunk people out there when it's the holidays, y'know. Okay. Talk to ya later."
Rezzy then started to tense up, cringing for what his father might say to him. Rezzy didn't realize it, but everyone at the table was staring at him, as if they were curious. Mr. Leon then sat back down at the table and looked straight across at Rezzy. "Son," he said to him, "I just got off the phone with Christian Alex. You know, the officer that drove you home on the night of Halloween Eve?" "Well," Rezzy said in a shaky voice, "he never told me his name, and he's not just any officer! He's an undercover officer! Get it right!"
"Right, well, I'm not mad at you for almost getting your ass killed that night."
"You're not?"
"Nope. Not one. Single. Bit."
"Ah," Rezzy alleviated, "Well, isn't that great? I thought you'd torture me, or something..."
"Nah. Again, I'm not mad at you. I'm actually fucking pissed at you. More pissed then I am with Perry right now, because my own son going through such a mess is more important to me than someone insulting my cooking."
"Hey!", Perry responded.
"Oooo," Marie instigated. "Shit just got real."