Timmy: Pass the cranberries, ma.
Ma: Here you are, son.
Timmy: (drops bowl) Oops!
Ma: Oh, heavens. You dropped that cranberry sauce right on the carpet!
Timmy: It’s not my fault! Bobby was distracting me!
Bobby: Was not!
Timmy: Was too!
Bobby: Was not!
Timmy: Was too!
Bobby: Was not!
Pa: Now quiet, the both of you two. This is supposed to be a NICE Thanksgiving.
Bobby: Eh, screw that.
Pa: WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME!
Ma: Stop! Frank, don’t hit him! Pleeease! WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN EVERY YEAR?
(knock on the door)
Ma: Who’s that?
(door flies open)
Ryan: HOW THE FUCK YOU DOIN’, PEOPLE?
Bobby: Whoa hey, that’s Coach Ryan of the New York Jets!
Ryan: Oh, people. People, people, people. This is the 40th Thanksgiving dinner I’ve crashed today. AND I’M JUST GETTING WARMED UP! Are you gone eat that cranberry sauce on the floor? Because nothing fires up Coach Ryan’s engine like floorsauce!
Pa: Coach Ryan, would you like to have a seat?
Ryan: CAN’T DO IT! You sit down to eat and you end up eating too slow! Now, first order of business: nicknames. Ma, your new nickname is Honeybasket. Pa, your new name is Shitfist. Bobby, your new name is ROBERTO HUMIDOR. Because Bobby is a faggot name! And Timmy, your new nickname is CATAPULT.
Bobby: Why can’t I be Catapult?
Ryan: BECAUSE YOU’RE ROBERTO HUMIDOR! Now, men. And woman. But mostly men. I couldn’t help but notice when I was staring out your window that your family is dysfunctional. Am I right?
Pa: Well, we…
Ryan: FUCKIN’ COCKJETS, I AM RIGHT! Now, I know all about dysfunctional families, men. I know because my team is dysfunctional. Look at us. We’re 4-6. We SUCK. Fucking Taco won’t stop throwing picks!
(drinks gravy out of boat with a straw)
Ryan: But you can’t let that get you down! Men, I’m here to let you in on a secret. Winning doesn’t matter.
Timmy: But Pa said winning…
Ryan: SHITFIST DON’T ALWAYS KNOW BEST! It’s not about whether you win or lose, men. Do you know what it’s really all about? KILLING! KILLING KILLING KILLING KILLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!! Bring out the turkey!
Ma: But we already have one cooked in the oven.
Ryan: Easy, Honeybasket. That one will do for sandwiches tomorrow. Now get a look at this bird, men. Look it in the eye. What do you see, Roberto?
Bobby: I see a bird.
Ryan: I’ll tell you what I see. Your first chance to become men. Roberto, take this axe.
Ryan: Catapult, hold that turkey’s head down on the floor.
Pa: Wait just a second here…
Ryan: DO YOU WANNA RAISE FAGGOTS, PA? OR DO YOU WANNA RAISE KILLERS? Tell me you don’t want your boys to grow up to pussy stompers who drink everything in sight and fuck till dawn. Tell me you don’t want your boys to feast on some pussy.
Pa: Well, I…
Ryan: Oh! Oh! Oh, Daddy wants his sons to get some giblet! Okay, Roberto. On my command, I want you to chop this bird’s head off.
Ryan: Shhh! LET HIM GROW UP! You can do this, Roberto.
(eats large box of very small donuts)
Bobby: I don’t know that I can.
Ryan: I understand. You’re young, and you’re afraid. But son, life isn’t about doing what you want to do. It’s about having the sack to go do what you HAVE to do. And what you have to do right now, IS CUT THIS FUCKER’S HEAD OFF. NOW DO IT! KILLLLLLLL! UNLEASH THE BEAST!
(cuts off Timmy’s hand by accident)
Timmy: Ahhh, my hand!
(cuts off turkey’s head)
Ryan: Holy shit! Look at all that blood! ARE YOU PEOPLE AS TURNED ON AS I AM?
Ma: My boy! My beautiful boy’s hand!
Ryan: We’ll get it reattached! It’s gonna look awesome! Everyone at school will start calling him Catapult Skywalker! NOW BRING IT IN, MEN.
(everyone brings it in)
Ryan: You see what you guys did today? You put aside your petty differences and you came together as fucking KILLERS. Little Roberto here didn’t flinch on that second axe swing, because he knew WHAT HE HAD TO FUCKING DO. You know what that tells me? That tells me, underneath all the squabbling, you men have a bond that is forged in fucking IRON. That will never break. (cries) And, when the shit hits the fan, you will form as one and go out there and fucking MURDER if you have to. That is what this holiday is all about. It’s not about sitting down and sharing with goddamn Pokeahotass. It’s about TAKING! It’s about coming together AND RUINING SOME SHIT. Now we’re gonna fucking roast this bird on an open spit. And then, I’m gonna have a hooker come over and we’re gonna fill her huge twat with stuffing. YOU’VE NEVER HAD STUFFING UNTIL YOU’VE HAD PUSSYSTUFFING.
Pa: Oh, I like that idea.
Ryan: GODDAMN RIGHT YOU DO. Are you guys ready?
Ryan: You gonna fucking kill this Thanksgiving Day spread?
Ryan: You gonna keep arguing like bitches?
Ryan: Are you ready to carve some dead turkey up?
Ryan: FUCKING EAT ON THREE! ONE TWO THREE…
Ryan: Damn, that was good. Just 5,897 more houses to visit tonight. But first, I gotta go wipe the juice out of my ass.
Bobby: Can you be our Dad?