Therapeutic Holiday Story # 1: It all began

Therapeutic Holiday Story # 1: It all began when Dickie, my brother-in-law, leaned across the dinner table, stared straight at me and murmured, "I'll have a thigh."

-g gravy. This was how I performed the Thanksgiving Reanimation of my dead brother-in-law Dickie. My sister held up the cranberries and

my grandmother flung gobs of wet stuffing with a spoon. Dickie's reanimated corpse burst from the turkey's gaping cavity like

a gusher under the weight of a work boot. I wiped up the Dickie stew as it pored from the mother (posthumously... postturkously?... so) turkey. "Less solid than cranberry sauce," I

wailed, "but goddamn if she didn't show us how to present ourselves on the gridiron." ESPN had the exclusive, and the executives were as drunk as a Gatorade factory. "30 for 30,

The odds are San Diego will win. They were betting heavily on the air!

If the air lost this one she would never live it down with the other elements. Water was already holding it over her head that she let pressure push her around. Now San Diego. Odds

bodkins! Quote the Raven, "Livermorium!" This was getting Cerium. Plus, she was on her periodic table with her Tungsten hanging out. Professor Dropsin averted his eyes at the sight

but she wasn't embarrassed. She was proud to be an Americium woman. She tossed her Platinum blond hair, said they were all a bunch of Borons & Ununquadium-ly moved to Californium.