She wishes he’d shut up already. It’s all gobbledygook to her and even if she understood half of it, she doubts she would care.
The food on her plate is left untouched. She’s done her best, which is a far cry from the real thing. She pleaded until the last moment for him to change his mind, to book a table in a restaurant.
‘This is not how things are done,’ he might have replied. ‘You know what you have to do.’
That’s why she got him, after all.
But she couldn’t do it. She could not kill the turkey.
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So “gobbledygook.” Funny. Existential comedy. How’d you pull it off? Thanks!
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I like existential comedy, it’s perfect – Thank you!
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Poor old turkeys – Thanksgiving and Christmas are genocide for them. When the turkeys finally rise up and take over the world, they’ll build memorials to the thousands of fallen 🙂
A fun story and I don’t blame her – I wouldn’t be able to either.
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Now I have an image of turkey memorials that will surely haunt me in my dreams… 😀
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