Tales of Thanksgivings Past, Story #2

My first year out of college I went to visit my friend N., who had just moved to Washington, DC from Iowa City.  It was our first Thanksgiving as adults, and three out of four of the five college roommates were making the trek.

I got there late on Wednesday night. We started early on Thanksgiving morning, since we had no idea what we were doing.  We went to the store and bought five bottles of wine.  We figured that would be plenty.  We started drinking the wine.

N's oven was up on the wall - it was an old place - so we put the turkey in a disposable aluminum cooking dish.  "Now, my mother says we should be sure to add lots of juice," said N.

I took a big slurp of wine out of my tumbler.  "Great.  Let's add juice."  So we got out the juicing tube - whatever those things are called - and we juiced and juiced as we drank more and more wine.  There was some talk of gizzards.  There was some talk of men.  All the juice got us on the topic of sex, who was having some and who was not, etc.  We juiced for a long, long time.

After we got the turkey in the oven, we set about trying to make the side dishes.  Unfortunately, N. didn't really have any pots and pans, so we ended up having to make some of the sides on just normal plates.  We debated for a long time as to whether one can or should put normal plates in the oven.  We called home.  N's mother asked what the plates were made of.  C., a bit tipsy, tried to hold a plate full of food up so she could look at the bottom.  All the food fell off onto the floor.  Since there were no pets in residence, we leaned over to clean it up, after first breaking for more wine.

About this time, we heard a sizzling noise coming from the oven.  We opened the door to find rivulets of ALL THAT JUICE pouring out of the shallow dish and onto the bottom of the oven.  "Grab something to put it in!" cried N., forgetting we had used damn near every plate, bowl and cup in the house already trying to either a) make food or b) hold more wine.  We ended up holding a few empty flower pots underneath to try to catch the torrent of juice now pouring from our saturated bird.

Then, tragedy struck.

With uncooked green bean casserole still crunching under our feet, our hands fully occupied trying to catch and dump turkey juice, we realized that some of the juice on the bottom of the stove had actually CAUGHT FIRE.  Flames shot out of the oven.  We retreated.  S. in her horror poured some wine on the fire.  BIGGER FLAMES.  Fortunately, the fire was relatively contained and was easily put out by throwing flour on the bottom of the stove.  Kids:  Don't try this at home.

At this point, we were able to suction the rest of the juice from the turkey dish and throw it back in the oven. N. suggested stuffing some rice and things around there to absorb some of the juice, but that just sounded gross, so we abandoned the idea and went out in search of more wine. We had already run out.

By the time dinner was ready, I had thrown up twice and passed out.  I hear the turkey was really juicy, though.  REALLY JUICY.

The end.