By Marian Gorrell
“Happy Thanksgiving!” exclaimed Negan joyously yet with a churlish undertone as he sauntered into Alexandria on Thanksgiving Day.
“Ugh,” moaned Rick, glancing over at Michonne as she quickly slipped her .44 caliber pistol behind her back. He hoped that the turkey they bagged last week had been sitting in the sun long enough to provide their unwelcome guest with a raging case of trichinosis. They had no choice but to be satisfied with those kinds of small victories.
“Where’s dinner?” asked Negan, “you don’t want to keep me and Lucille waiting do you?” He glanced lovingly at his barbed wire-wrapped baseball bat, “ain’t she beautiful?”
”So much for existentialism,” thought Father Gabriel, knowing that his musings would never qualify as pensees.
“Gobble gobble,” mumbled Rosita, presenting the rosemary stuffed bird to her nemesis.
“Now that’s dedication,” said Negan, “I am truly blessed to have such loyal colleagues… I really mean that.” “Where’s the gravy?” he growled, and the entire group froze in silent terror. “Just kidding folks, geez lighten up. This is truly superb; it tastes like it was made in a Big Easy cooker.” He continued, “Some say venality is an undesirable trait, but how else would I find myself sated so completely by such fine folks as yourselves. Now, who wants to break the wishbone? Just remember, no matter how hard you wish it won’t bring Glenn and Abraham back.”
Rick looked at Michonne with a warning in his eyes as he saw her reach behind her back for her weapon.
After Negan finished his meal, he glanced around the town greedily. “Now, before I get too sleepy, I’m going to rummage through your homes like it’s my very own “Black Friday. In fact, I’m going to make it last until Cyber Monday!”
The townspeople all looked around nervously at each other, knowing there was nothing they could do to protect their valuables.
Before Negan could take a step, he doubled over in pain. Suddenly, his ass exploded like a hurricane as the tainted turkey took its toll. Feces sprayed everywhere, and a couple of unnamed midgets in red shirts laughed like hyenas.
“Look! He has a dingle berry!” exclaimed one of them in his deep cockney accent, “do you need a nappy, lardazz?”
The rest of the town gasped in terror as Negan bolted up in all his shit-stained glory and swung Lucille savagely at diminutive fool. During the ensuing chaos nobody noticed the walker who found a weakness in the wall, and unceremoniously joined the gathering.
Then entire group, including Negan, gave thanks on that particular Thanksgiving Day that Michonne had her sword and quickly dispatched the walking carcass.