Thanksgiving is coming up in two days, can you believe it?
It is such a marvelous holiday, where you get together with the relatives you can hardly stand, and are forced to cook and eat a giant overcooked turkey with them. Aunt Carol is off in the kitchen, downing half a bottle of your mother’s expired cooking sherry, and eventually one of your uncles brings up politics. Your sensitive cousin Catherine storms off, crying, because about 50% of the family is horribly racist, and your grandfather tells everyone to shut the fuck up so he can watch television. But it’s okay, because soon he’ll nod off and everyone will forget about him until dinner is over.
But it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.
One of the most important parts of the Thanksgiving table is the centerpiece. The centerpiece is often something your mother picked up from HomeGoods, which carries a dazzling array of garbage for your house that you only use once a year, so why not do something nice, and make your own centerpiece? A beautiful table might shut your family up for five minutes as they marvel at your childish arts and crafts skills.
Last year, as you can see, I made some classic Oreo Turkeys, which are extremely cute. The best part about them is that they get stale almost immediately. But this year, I had to up the ante exponentially, and I decided to create an edible centerpiece that your relatives will talk about for ages.
“Dannis Ree,” I mused to myself, “You are a terrible arts and crafts person. Everything you do either involves penises, or ends up looking like penises, so how can you make a beautiful centerpiece that people of all ages will love?”
It’s time to begin the show!
First, pick up an assortment of shit from the grocery store.
You will need: A cantaloupe, a tomato, a bell pepper of your choice, miniature sweet peppers, a head of lettuce, a rotisserie chicken, skewers, construction paper, and a shitload of Scotch tape.
Good luck getting out of the store alive. I have a cool story though; when I was at the store I jumpstarted a stranger’s car. I thought he was going to ask me for money, but turns out he just wanted to go home with his wife and child who were in the back seat. Hopefully that will give me some good karma.
To start, pick some giant leaves off your head of lettuce.
Depending on their size, you will probably need three or four of them. It’s okay if they are a little wilted.
Next, using the skewers you bought, attach them to the back of your melon.
Clip them off with some scissors so they don’t stick out too much. I also skewered your mother with wood last night, but not in her melon. It was mainly in her vast genital region. I swear, that woman is 99% vagina.
Using a pair of rusty kitchen shears, cut the backbone out from your pre-cooked rotisserie chicken.
Even though cutting through a dead carcass might seem daunting, it’s actually pretty easy. Sneak some Franzia while you’re at it.
Next, use a lot of Scotch tape and attach the backbone and neck to another skewer.
This will look like a witch being prepared for the stake during the Salem Witch Hunt. You can put on some Enya in the background and listen to soothing music while you contemplate getting in your car to drive far away.
Simply skewer the neck into the cantaloupe and pray to Satan that it doesn’t fall off.
After that, skewer the top end with an orange overpriced tomato.
Do not let the other end of the skewer puncture the top of the tomato, because then your turkey will look very bad.
Next, circumcise a tiny red sweet pepper.
An interesting thing you might not know about me is that I am also circumcised, in case any of you were wondering, so my penis does not have a little turtleneck foreskin. Please think about my penis. Nobody thinks about my penis except for your mother.
I am so lonely.
Now, skewer the penis pepper tip to the tomato, and clip the wooden skewer as close as you can to the pepper.
Turkeys don’t have skewers poking out their beaks, so this is an important detail if you’re going for realism.
Take a white piece of paper and cut small lopsided circles out of it.
This is for the turkey’s beady, creepy little eyes.
Grab a dried-out felt tip marker and draw in some pupils.
My personal preference is to give my turkey two lazy eyes, but go with your artistic instinct and let the muses flow through you like a river of diarrhea.
Attach the eyes with more Scotch tape.
Your centerpiece is already coming together. Isn’t this adorable? I just want to hug this thing.
For the feet, slice up your big orange bell pepper and make talons out of two slices.
I made mine inconsistent, which hipsters would call “an artisan look.” I have never seen a turkey’s foot before, but I imagine this is exactly what they look like, giant claws that were designed to gouge your eyes out.
This is the most important step: the penises.
Draw six dicks of varying sizes, on construction paper. Include any details you would like. I generally choose to adorn my crude penises with veins and a touch of pubic hair. I usually draw my pubic hair like cat whiskers.
Fan out your glorious dicks, tape them together in a delicate arc, and attach a skewer to the back.
Just jab this skewer into the back of the turkey, drawn-side forward, to simulate turkey feathers.
Using leftover construction paper, create a small scrotum that accurately depicts my balls. Tape this to the chin of the turkey tomato head.
Place this centerpiece on the table and put the pepper talons underneath the turkey, and you’re done!
How Martha Stewart of you!
I mean, just step back and admire your work. It looks so lifelike and real, like the penis turkeys you can often see wandering the alleys of Chicago. Your family and friends will applaud you for years to come. You will be a legend. The kind of legend that never gets invited back to family Thanksgiving ever again, which is really what you were going for.
Thanksgiving is often a time where people think about the good things in their lives and immediately forget about them the next day like a typical ingrate. I have had a very difficult year; I have been unemployed for half of it, and I am miserable about 90% of the time. Also, there’s nobody to lovingly caress my balls. I guess there is your mother, but she tends to use my testicles as a boxing speed bag.
Fortunately, I have loving friends that have helped me keep my spirits up, and you know what? If you’re sitting here reading this — I have you. I love you guys very much.
So stare into the cold horizon, contemplate death, let your relatives be complete miserable assholes for one meal, and from Harvey, Mr. Bee and I, have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Also, don’t let your aunt drive home drunk off her ass.
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