[Fanfic] Thanksgiving Dinner
Title: Thanksgiving Dinner
Author/Artist: seraphoftales
Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, ALL THE STATES, Canada
Warnings: Some violence, accidental innaccurate portrayal of states (if you don't like them, I apologize), the first 13 states are considered his brothers and sisters
Summary: Break out the turkey and dig in! It's that holiday once more!
Thanksgiving was a nightmare. Pure chaos and noise and outright anarchy.
And America stood in the center of it all. The eye of the storm. Basking in the warmth of disorder.
Pennsylvania had reserved a corner for himself and the younger states. Alaska and Hawaii seated at his feet, listening intently as he weaved fantastical tales. New Mexico and Arizona, at the dawn of their teens, slowly inching closer and closer,
Virginia was currently lording over the kitchen. Much to the disdain of Louisiana and California.
New York and Texas were out in the backyard, flipping burgers and grilling hotdogs, getting the ribs going.
North Carolina was setting up the tables and chairs in the wide gazebo. South Carolina laying out the table cloth with her younger sister, Georgia, arranging the silverware.
Massachusettes was arguing with Wisconsin. Nothing too philosophical. But a simple debate over which sport was better. Football or Baseball. Neither were winning.
Florida was gving Colorado fashion tips. In order to accentuate Colorado's grand mountain ranges. Unfortunately for Florida, her younger sister was simply not paying attention. Head up in the clouds.
Tennesee, Alabama, Missouri, West Virginia, and Nebraska were all watching a football game on TV. Cheering rather wildly. With Nevada organizing a betting pool. All or nothing. With stakes as high as $100.
Indiana and Kentucky brought down the second TV from upstairs. And somehow rigged the Wii so they could race a car versus a horse. Indiana, of course, choosing the car. And Kentucky choosing the horse.
Idaho and Montana just arrived, and were immediately kidnapped by their sisters and agitated aunt. They were later found grumbling as they peeled potatoes, and washed the dishes.
Oregon had joined the baseball/football debate. His loud voice carrying over the other two.
New Jersey, Maryland, and Delaware were sitting out in the porch. Nursing their drinks, gin for Delaware, freshly squeezed lemonade for the girls. By far, they were the quietest in the household. Mulling over memories and current events.
Illinois, Rhode Island, and Mississippi somehow managed to get into argument about politics. Illinois defending her beloved kid. While Utah and Connecticut tried in vain to intervene.
Washington hauled Oregon away from the debate. Before he said something offensive. Well, more offensive.
Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine just arrived. Accompanied by Uncle Matt.
Alfred quick to enthusiastically embrace his brother.
Canada's provinces never visit for Thanksgiving, believing that Thanksgiving already passed. And America's states never visit for Thanksgiving, believing Thanksgiving had yet to pass.
And besides. They have this huge, giant get-together every Christmas. All the states, all the provinces, and even England, and France. All together in a snug, little, log cabin beside the Niagra Falls.
But that is another headache for another holiday.
For now, for Thanksgiving, America visits Canada on Canada's Thanksgiving. And Canada visits America on America's Thanksgiving. Welcomed warmly by the provinces and states respectively. Politics and bitter feelings forgotten at the dinner table.
"Dog pile on Uncle Dad!" Michigan and Minnesota cried in unison.
Well, almost all bitter feelings. It wouldn't be a North America Thanksgiving if there weren't lightly-veiled criticism. Or childish pranks.
And Canada found himself buried by his many neices and nephews, and the occasional son or daughter he fathered.
America laughed. Joining in the dog pile himself.
Until Texas tapped America on the shoulder.
"North Dakota and South Dakota are brawling in the backyard."
"What? Again?! Didn't I send them to seperate corners?"
"Yeah, but then they argued about which corner was better."
"Of course."
The twins' fight had apparently interrupted a little, football game between Ohio and Wyoming versus Kansas and Arkansas. With Oklahoma as the referee. Oklahoma also took responsibility for breaking up the fight. But was failing rather horribly.
By the time America was able to stop the squabbling, a worn Iowa rang the dinner bell. He had been 'volunteered' by his siblings to go help the girls in the kitchen. And had been basically abused for the last half hour. Virginia was scary when there was a meal on the line.
But at last. It was finally done.
"Soup's on!"
And everything stopped. A climatic moment of absolute silece.
The ensuing stampede could only be compared to the annual Bull Run in Spain.
The TVs were clicked off, game consoles abandoned on the floor. The football thrown aside in some obscure corner of the backyard. The steaks tossed off the grill, plated and drizzled with mouth-waterng sauces. All debates were put on an immedate hold. All fights were put on an immediate hold. A storybook was closed, laid gently on the armchair. The stroll down memory lane aburptly cut short. A slightly disoriented Uncle, dizzy from lack of oxygen, was led to the table. And the kitchen finally, finally relieved of its duties. After hours, upon hours of hard, hard work.
And everyone rushed to get a seat at the table.
There was some slight bickering. Who would sit next to who. The states, America observed, arranging themselves rather apporpriately. Whether they were aware of this or not. The Mid-Western states at the middle. The Eastern states on the right end. The Western states on the left end. And Alaska and Hawaii seated at the very, very center. Beside America. Simply because they could not fit in any of the three categories.
As soon as they all settled down, America briefly bowed his head. Muttering an old prayer taught to him by a man named John Winthrop.
It was brief. Short and sweet and to the point. No that anybody cared. All thoughts fixated on the wonderfuly feast.
And then-! And then-! Virginia burst from te kitchen, California, Louisiana, Idaho, and Montana meekly following after her. All carrying some fabolous sh or another.
Flan. Leg of lamb. Lobster. Crab. Venison. Clam chowder. Ceaser salads. Corn on the cob. Seafood salads. Burgers. Spaghetti. Lasagna. Steak. Ribs Fries. Mashed potatoes. Baked potatoes. Cream of corn. Cream of broccoli. Filet mignon. Baked sea bass. Seared salmon. Fruit salad. Pizza. Paninis. Pigs-in-a-blanket. Chicken Pot Pie. Gumbo. Gritz. Tomato soup. Macaroni and cheese. Hotdogs. Biscuits. Toasted bread. Roasted chicken.
And finally. The turkey.
A big fat, almost as big as Rhode Island. And while Rhode Island was leaning towards the short side. She was still a proud 4 feet, six inches. And the turkey was just around that size. Weighing incomprehensibly heavy.
But nevertheless, the tireless cooks emerged from the black depths of the dark kitchen. Bringing forth into the light, the glory of Thanksgiving.
The turkey.
Waiting for the girls to take a seat, America stood up. Towering over the half-ton turkey with a crazy grin.
"Alright. Time to carve up this bad boy."
And without further ado, revved up his newest chainsaw.
Virginia sighed. "Oh for once can't we pretend we're normal and carve the turkey with a knife?"
"Oh but that isn't fun at all!" Maine stated primly. Before she returned to cheering on her father. She wasn't the only one either.
"I'm a lumber jack and I'm okay." America whistles, bits of turkey whizzing over his head.
"Oh, brother." Virgnia palmed her face.
New York could only laugh in response.
Part Two will be up soon
Author/Artist: seraphoftales
Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, ALL THE STATES, Canada
Warnings: Some violence, accidental innaccurate portrayal of states (if you don't like them, I apologize), the first 13 states are considered his brothers and sisters
Summary: Break out the turkey and dig in! It's that holiday once more!
Thanksgiving was a nightmare. Pure chaos and noise and outright anarchy.
And America stood in the center of it all. The eye of the storm. Basking in the warmth of disorder.
Pennsylvania had reserved a corner for himself and the younger states. Alaska and Hawaii seated at his feet, listening intently as he weaved fantastical tales. New Mexico and Arizona, at the dawn of their teens, slowly inching closer and closer,
Virginia was currently lording over the kitchen. Much to the disdain of Louisiana and California.
New York and Texas were out in the backyard, flipping burgers and grilling hotdogs, getting the ribs going.
North Carolina was setting up the tables and chairs in the wide gazebo. South Carolina laying out the table cloth with her younger sister, Georgia, arranging the silverware.
Massachusettes was arguing with Wisconsin. Nothing too philosophical. But a simple debate over which sport was better. Football or Baseball. Neither were winning.
Florida was gving Colorado fashion tips. In order to accentuate Colorado's grand mountain ranges. Unfortunately for Florida, her younger sister was simply not paying attention. Head up in the clouds.
Tennesee, Alabama, Missouri, West Virginia, and Nebraska were all watching a football game on TV. Cheering rather wildly. With Nevada organizing a betting pool. All or nothing. With stakes as high as $100.
Indiana and Kentucky brought down the second TV from upstairs. And somehow rigged the Wii so they could race a car versus a horse. Indiana, of course, choosing the car. And Kentucky choosing the horse.
Idaho and Montana just arrived, and were immediately kidnapped by their sisters and agitated aunt. They were later found grumbling as they peeled potatoes, and washed the dishes.
Oregon had joined the baseball/football debate. His loud voice carrying over the other two.
New Jersey, Maryland, and Delaware were sitting out in the porch. Nursing their drinks, gin for Delaware, freshly squeezed lemonade for the girls. By far, they were the quietest in the household. Mulling over memories and current events.
Illinois, Rhode Island, and Mississippi somehow managed to get into argument about politics. Illinois defending her beloved kid. While Utah and Connecticut tried in vain to intervene.
Washington hauled Oregon away from the debate. Before he said something offensive. Well, more offensive.
Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine just arrived. Accompanied by Uncle Matt.
Alfred quick to enthusiastically embrace his brother.
Canada's provinces never visit for Thanksgiving, believing that Thanksgiving already passed. And America's states never visit for Thanksgiving, believing Thanksgiving had yet to pass.
And besides. They have this huge, giant get-together every Christmas. All the states, all the provinces, and even England, and France. All together in a snug, little, log cabin beside the Niagra Falls.
But that is another headache for another holiday.
For now, for Thanksgiving, America visits Canada on Canada's Thanksgiving. And Canada visits America on America's Thanksgiving. Welcomed warmly by the provinces and states respectively. Politics and bitter feelings forgotten at the dinner table.
"Dog pile on Uncle Dad!" Michigan and Minnesota cried in unison.
Well, almost all bitter feelings. It wouldn't be a North America Thanksgiving if there weren't lightly-veiled criticism. Or childish pranks.
And Canada found himself buried by his many neices and nephews, and the occasional son or daughter he fathered.
America laughed. Joining in the dog pile himself.
Until Texas tapped America on the shoulder.
"North Dakota and South Dakota are brawling in the backyard."
"What? Again?! Didn't I send them to seperate corners?"
"Yeah, but then they argued about which corner was better."
"Of course."
The twins' fight had apparently interrupted a little, football game between Ohio and Wyoming versus Kansas and Arkansas. With Oklahoma as the referee. Oklahoma also took responsibility for breaking up the fight. But was failing rather horribly.
By the time America was able to stop the squabbling, a worn Iowa rang the dinner bell. He had been 'volunteered' by his siblings to go help the girls in the kitchen. And had been basically abused for the last half hour. Virginia was scary when there was a meal on the line.
But at last. It was finally done.
"Soup's on!"
And everything stopped. A climatic moment of absolute silece.
The ensuing stampede could only be compared to the annual Bull Run in Spain.
The TVs were clicked off, game consoles abandoned on the floor. The football thrown aside in some obscure corner of the backyard. The steaks tossed off the grill, plated and drizzled with mouth-waterng sauces. All debates were put on an immedate hold. All fights were put on an immediate hold. A storybook was closed, laid gently on the armchair. The stroll down memory lane aburptly cut short. A slightly disoriented Uncle, dizzy from lack of oxygen, was led to the table. And the kitchen finally, finally relieved of its duties. After hours, upon hours of hard, hard work.
And everyone rushed to get a seat at the table.
There was some slight bickering. Who would sit next to who. The states, America observed, arranging themselves rather apporpriately. Whether they were aware of this or not. The Mid-Western states at the middle. The Eastern states on the right end. The Western states on the left end. And Alaska and Hawaii seated at the very, very center. Beside America. Simply because they could not fit in any of the three categories.
As soon as they all settled down, America briefly bowed his head. Muttering an old prayer taught to him by a man named John Winthrop.
It was brief. Short and sweet and to the point. No that anybody cared. All thoughts fixated on the wonderfuly feast.
And then-! And then-! Virginia burst from te kitchen, California, Louisiana, Idaho, and Montana meekly following after her. All carrying some fabolous sh or another.
Flan. Leg of lamb. Lobster. Crab. Venison. Clam chowder. Ceaser salads. Corn on the cob. Seafood salads. Burgers. Spaghetti. Lasagna. Steak. Ribs Fries. Mashed potatoes. Baked potatoes. Cream of corn. Cream of broccoli. Filet mignon. Baked sea bass. Seared salmon. Fruit salad. Pizza. Paninis. Pigs-in-a-blanket. Chicken Pot Pie. Gumbo. Gritz. Tomato soup. Macaroni and cheese. Hotdogs. Biscuits. Toasted bread. Roasted chicken.
And finally. The turkey.
A big fat, almost as big as Rhode Island. And while Rhode Island was leaning towards the short side. She was still a proud 4 feet, six inches. And the turkey was just around that size. Weighing incomprehensibly heavy.
But nevertheless, the tireless cooks emerged from the black depths of the dark kitchen. Bringing forth into the light, the glory of Thanksgiving.
The turkey.
Waiting for the girls to take a seat, America stood up. Towering over the half-ton turkey with a crazy grin.
"Alright. Time to carve up this bad boy."
And without further ado, revved up his newest chainsaw.
Virginia sighed. "Oh for once can't we pretend we're normal and carve the turkey with a knife?"
"Oh but that isn't fun at all!" Maine stated primly. Before she returned to cheering on her father. She wasn't the only one either.
"I'm a lumber jack and I'm okay." America whistles, bits of turkey whizzing over his head.
"Oh, brother." Virgnia palmed her face.
New York could only laugh in response.
Part Two will be up soon