Chapter One
By The Chronicler
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"Mine!" Perfect Tommy snapped, snatching the bag of cranberries from Mrs. Johnson.
She stared at him, her jaw hanging open in amused shock.
Popping one in his mouth, Tommy grinned. "Hey, my perrrrr-fect cranberry sauce is known world wide! Maybe the only thing on earth that can bring yank and reb to the same table."
"Besides, maybe, the end of the Civil War." Buckaroo pointed out. He leaned across the work table to steel an apple.
But, before he could take a bite, Peggy warned "You better be peeling that apple for the pie, or you'll lose teeth, buddy." To emphasize her point, she handed him the peeler.
*SMASH*
All eyes turned to where Knuckles was hammering the life out of some nuts.
*SMASH*
*SMASH*
*SMASH*
Feeling their eyes, Knuckles paused, mallet stopping in mid swing. Her bright green eyes rose just enough to see the other holiday chefs staring at her. "What?" she wondered.
"Darlin'," Rawhide spoke up, pushing his stetson back on his head, "they're walnuts. Not Clan warriors."
The kitchen echoed with giggles which grew into right out laughter.
Popping another cranberry in his mouth, Perfect Tommy jumped up onto the counter and watched his friends work.
Shaking his head, Reno moved over to show Knuckles the proper way to crack nuts (not about to say it THAT way to THIS gal).
Grinning mischievously, Peggy tossed another apple across the table at her husband who just barely caught it before it hit his head.
Buckaroo, warring a "Kiss the Cook" apron, glared at her, then, with every ounce of defiance he could muster, took the biggest bite he could out of the apple.
Tommy Boy went back to stuffing devil's eggs, pausing every now and again to remind Hikita that eating any more would not only explode his cholesterol, but it wouldn't leave enough for dinner.
The elderly professor simply smiled, adjusted his glasses, and made another grab for yet another egg.
Pecos, working on the stuffing, and Big Norse, working on the ambrosia, at the same table playfully fought over utensils, tossing bits of this and that at each other.
Mrs. J went on to show Billy Traves how to roll the croissants.
Billy, completely unaware of the lesson, kept leaning closer and closer to the baker as if to get a better view.
Pinky Carruthers was at another table, peeling potatoes for his famous "Carruthers' Secret Family Mashed Potato Recipe."
Slow Motion, in typical Slow Motion style, delicately, tenderly, most caring, sliced vegetables for a green salad. He was going on, unconcerned with the madness around him, until a grape bounced off of the side of his head. Sighing, he glanced at Norse and Pecos. Being unclear of which had actually thrown the vandalizing fruit, he simply aimed at both, sending a handful of cherry tomatoes their direction.
Squealling, the girls ducked for cover under the table.
"Hey." Rawhide greeted, bumping into Perfect Tommy's legs as he carried the huge turkey to the sink he sat beside. "You gonna save some of those for the rest of us?"
Tommy shrugged. "At least I'm eating them. Those guys are using food to wall paper the kitchen."
Rawhide turned to look at the madness of the cooking crew. "Hey!" he shouted, trying to sound angry. Adding to the imitation, he placed his hands on his hips and glared. "Any of you wanna leave something for dinner?!"
Everyone stopped, their heads turning just until their eyes locked on the intimidating cowboy.
Buckaroo sighed. "Spoilsport." he accused. Then he grabbed a hand full of pie dough and threw it at his friend.
The dough struck Rawhide in the chest. Eyes narrowing, he licked his lips. Ignoring the sticky goo splattered on his front, he slowly turned around again and began to rinse the turkey as if nothing, whatsoever, had happened.
Perfect Tommy chuckled and popped another cranberry into his mouth.
"Pumpkin!" New Jersey announced as he kicked open the swinging doors and carried in a huge bowl of home made pumpkin pie filling.
"'Bout time you showed up." Peggy teased. She hurried over to clear a spot on a table for his contribution. She frowned when she saw the finger marks across the top of the mixture. "Front gate?" she guessed.
Jersey shrugged. "Why do you think I'm late?" He smiled at the others, pausing here and there to do double takes. Finally settling on Knuckles and her massacred walnuts, he started "So, anyone brought up Knuckles cracking nu..."
"NO!" half the room (the male half, that is) shouted in unison.
The phone on the wall next to the door rang.
Giggling, Mrs. Johnson walked over and picked it up. "Yea?" Her amused expression vanished. "You sure?"
The concern in her voice immediately drew the attention of the room. All laughter died.
"Yea... yea, okay, just a minute." Mrs. J licked her lips and looked across the kitchen to Perfect Tommy. "Hey, Tommy... it's your dad."
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Chapter 2
by TB
Perfect Tommy sputtered. "What?" he asked.
"Your dad." Mrs. Johnson said once more.
As in slow motion Perfect Tommy went to Mrs. Johnson and took the receiver. He took a deep breath before speaking. "Perfect Tommy."
Tommy Boy looked to Rawhide. Only a few of them knew the whole story behind their ladies man domino. She took a step to give him moral support, but Rawhide stopped her.
"Wait it out, lets see what will happen." he whispered to her.
She was torn.
Knuckles came over to see what was happening, it got quiet all of sudden. She saw Perfect Tommy on the phone looking like he was gritting his teeth as he talked to the other person.
Monosyllables came out of Perfect Tommy's mouth till he said, "We are eatting at four, since you are in town, would you like to join us? ... When you get to the gate ask for Pinky Curruthers. I'll see you then."
Perfect Tommy hung up the phone but continued to stare at it. "That was my dad. He's here in town to see me. Since it's thanksgiving he wanted to see if we could start a new."
Knuckles came up beside him and put her arms around his waist. She knew the stories. "You sure baby?" she asked in a whisper.
"I don't know." he said. "But one thing I've learned since being here, you it is good to forgive for one's soul."
Buckaroo nodded to that as did Rawhide, Peggy and Reno.
"I think I'll go for a walk. I'll stop by and talk to Pinky about our visitor too."
Perfect Tommy turned and left the room, leaving it in silence. They all wondered what would come.
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Pt. 3
By BBI Fiero
Buckaroo gazed out the window staring after Perfect-tommy. He noticed slow-motion on that very same road walking towards PT, carrying a basket. The indian cavalier hadn't quite joined the others yet, because he was, well...
Banzai seemed oblivious to the table when Peggy threw a cranberry at the doctor.
It bounced off the side of his head.
Turning he asked. "Whats' that about?"
Peggy glared. "You! What are you staring at?"
"Nothing, just seeing whats' up with Perfect-tommy."
"You should be staring at ME!" replied the plucky woman. She bounced on the bench next to her man, grinning.
"My apologies, oh bodacious one!" whispered Buckaroo, he quickly gave her a peck on the cheek.
Reno was holding a glass. "Whoaahhhh!"
"No honey, I'LL SAY WHEN" replied Pecos.
She filled the tall glass with eggnog.
"Wonder whats in this..."
"Who cares?" blurted the oriental fianc�e.
"I care!, It smells!....I don't know who made this concoction,.. might be spiked for all we know."
"Perfect-Tommy made the eggnogg, my lil cherub."
Reno noticed Pecos was tipsy. He slouched.
"...It's spiked...."
Pinky Cruthers was addressing the new interns at another table. He rattled off a few of his famous 32,000 unknown facts when New Jersey walked by, pie in hand.
"Anyone want to sample some of my pumpkin pie?"
"Not yet, still finishing up my plate." Norah answered.
The lanky doctor noticed Pinky cracking apart a claw.
"Whats that ?" he asked.
"Whats it look like?" growled Pinky.
"Seafood? for thanksgiving?"
"So what? Not everyone likes Turkey...You turkey."
"Thats a lobster, isn't it?"
"Yes, so?'
"Do you know anything about them? quizzed Zweibel, pie still in his hands.
"No...I know they taste great."
New Jersey noded to the young interns.
"Those things live in the ocean."
"Of course." Norah and Theo replied.
"Well, they're all over the place, they eat stuff off the ocean floor for gosh sakes! "
"...and your point?" mumbled an annoyed Pinky Cruthers.
"They're bottom feeders. In essence you're basically eating a large cockroach."
Almost choking on a mouthful of claw meat, the beret wearing Hong Kong cavalier stood up , pointing a stern finger at Sid, he stammered.
"LEAVE - THIS - TABLE."
Zweibel walked off sulking, he soon was heard at the next group of hungry interns.
"Anyone care to sample some of my pumpki...."
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Chapter Four
By Tabby
(WARNING: child abuse, violence)
**********
Flashback:
He grabbed the child's arm in a painful grip, yanked him about with such force he could hear the little arm pop, and back handed the little face.
Tommy whipped about in his father's grip, Biting down on his lip, he refused to cry out, knowing that it would only make him madder. But the stinging blow brought tears to the little boy's eyes that he couldn't help.
"What?" roared the man who was supposed to love and protect him. "What kinda man cries? Huh? You just a big cry baby?" Grabbing his son by the shoulders, he shook him violently, the little head snapping back and forth.
So violent was the shaking that Tommy became dizzy. `Oh god' his innocent mind cried. `Please' don't let me be sick. Please don't make me puke on him.' he begged.
"Answer me, damn it! Are you a cry baby?" his father continued to scream. Not giving the small child a chance to respond, he buried his fist in the way too skinny middle.
It was too much. A gaspy cry broke free from Tommy's lips as little ribs snapped and air exploded from his lungs. He doubled up and would of fallen to the cold floor if his tormentor didn't keep him upright with a tight, painful grip on his shoulder.
Again he back handed the boy, sending him flying back to fall on the coffee table, smashing it.
"What?" screamed the enraged man. "You stupid cry baby! Look what you did! That was a perfectly good table! What? You think I'm made of fucking money?" He kicked at the withering child, sending him sliding across the floor to slam into the wall.
The man crouched down over the broken piece of furniture and began to try and fit them together again. "Damn it. Look at this goddamn mess." he snarled. "Get the fuck out of my sight, you worthless little shit." he ordered, glaring at the child.
With one arm wrapped around his ribs, the little boy began to drag himself down the hall, hoping to make the closet that was used as his bedroom before his father could reach him again.
His luck remained true.
Giving up on trying to save the table, the enraged man grabbed a broken leg, and surged after his escaping victim. Grabbing the child by the ankle, he held the fragile leg out, raising the broken chunk of furniture over his head. With a wordless growl, he brought it down...
**
Perfect Tommy jumped to the side with a startled yipe. Spinning about, he brought his hands up in defense.
Slow Motion stepped back, holding his hands up, showing that he meant no harm.
Perfect Tommy's eyes narrowed. "Slow?" he breathed in between gasps. Then anger flashed in his eyes. "Slow, damn it! What the hell are ya doin' sneakin' up on me?!"
Slow Motion stood absolutely still, his _expression one of complete innocence, as he answered "I did not sneak up on you. I called your name... I called you three times. You did not answer." Only then did his _expression reveal his concern. He frowned. "Are you alright?"
Perfect Tommy finally allowed his hands to drop to his sides. Taking a shaky breath, he glanced around at nothing in particular.
Slow Motion recognized the tactic immediately. He had often seen students doing the same when trying to figure out how to get out of answering a question. Offering a save, he quickly said "Hey, I better finish that salad. You want me to do up the cranberries for you?"
Perfect Tommy shrugged. "Honestly?"
Slow Motion smiled slightly.
"I did it up last night after you all went to bed." Tommy allowed himself a chuckle. "Thought I'd let Rawhide ride me a bit 'bout not gettin' it done, then show up with the bowl.... you know... perfect, without an ounce of work."
"The illusion that you could produce perfection without even working at it." Slow concluded.
Perfect Tommy gave him a hard look. "Illusion... you know what? Everything is an illusion." he mumbled. Wrapping his arms around himself, he slowly turned and walked away.
Slow Motion watched him go, frowning his concern. He wished he knew how he could reassure his friend. But he just didn't know how.
Glancing back at the house, he could see Rawhide and Knuckles watching. As if he could see the question in the intern's _expression even over that distance, Rawhide waved him back.
With a sigh, Slow did as he was bidded. "Perhaps, it's for the best he have time alone with his memories." he spoke to himself as he headed back. "Perhaps, anyway."
**********
Chapter 5
By The Chronicler
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Norah and Theo exchanged weary glances.
Pinky frowned. "What?" he wanted to know.
The young interns looked over his shoulders, then quickly ducked back, before Norah offered "I think Mr. Nevada and his Pecos are... well... um... intoxicated?"
Pinky's frown deepened. "What?!"
Theo took over: "Intoxicated. You know! Drunk. Tipsy. Soaked. Soused. Boozy. Tanked. Well away. Loaded. Smashed. Pickled. Pie-eyed. Zonked. Lit. Sozzled. Stoned."
"Woe." Norah stopped him. "Pie-eyed?"
"It's a British reference." Pinky supplied, glaring at the boy. "And the `What?' was not in reference to `intoxicated', but, rather, referring to `what? Already?'"
"Ah." both youngsters said in unison.
With a longing glance at his lobster, Pinky sighed. "Well, better make sure they're disarmed before Pecos tries to shoot something off the tip of Reno's nose... again. Holidays." He looked at his two table mates. "F-Y-I... I'm confiscating your thesaurus come morning."
As he walked away he passed Buckaroo Banzai who was headed toward the table. "Hey, Pinky, while you're up..." the doctor started.
"Pecos, gun, locked up." Pinky finished. "On it."
Buckaroo grinned. "Good man." Then he continued on to the table. "Hi, guys." he greeted, taking over Pinky's vacated seat. "How's your Thanksgiving thus far?" he wondered, stealing a nibble at the the abandon lobster.
Norah smiled. "Just great, sir. Gets kinda lively around here... even after most everyone goes home for the holidays."
Buckaroo glanced around the dinning room. "Yea, guess it does." Turning back, he sighed. "So, as you know, a handful of interns opted to stay for one reason or another: projects in the work, too far to go home, not American thus an American holiday... so on and so forth. My wife is a bit into the family thing when it comes to pie cutting time, so she has arranged a little present for each of you unable to get home to see your families." He smiled at their suddenly bright eyes.
Their response made it difficult to remember they weren't small children, but, in truth, young adults with the intellect that few twice their age could claim.
"What?" Theo couldn't help but ask. He wasn't `that' old!
Buckaroo snagged another piece of lobster, enjoying making them wait. When they were fidgeting to the point of nearly leaping out of their skin, he finally answered "Peggy has arranged for each of your to have an hour long vid-confrense call with your families. BBI's around the world have volunteered to set up the systems at each of your homes and... Woe... wait a minute!"
The two skidded to a halt already half a dozen feet away.
Laughing, Buckaroo explained "You're gonna have to take turns, now. There's a schedule for the calls posted on the bulletin board. And don't get so wrapped up you forget you promised to help Slow Motion set up for the show after dinner."
"No, sir!" they answered. Theo spun about and raced away, but Norah hesitated just long enough to say "Thanks, sir. And Mrs Banzai too, sir." Then she too was off.
Still laughing, Buckaroo turned back to the lobster. "hmmm.... this isn't half bad." he mumbled.
But before he could enjoy it further, it was snatched out from before him. "Gee whiz, Buckaroo! You too?!" Mrs Johnson growled.
Confused, he asked "Me too what?"
"One moment I have a kitchen full of Cavaliers, helping me fix Thanksgiving dinner..." she started swing her hands in the air, "the next, you've all vanished to the four corners of the dinning room to steel food! May I remind you all...." Her voice rose until she had the attention of the entire room. "Dinner will be at 4pm. Not 3, not 2, not 1... And certainly not at 12! And whoever heard of lobster for Thanksgiving?!" She put her hands on her hips and glared down at the sitting doctor. "Now, get your butt to the kitchen and give me a hand!"
Buckaroo's eye brows rose as he stared at her in shocked amusement.
Mrs J stomped her foot, throwing her hands in the air.. It was almost a tantrum, but she spun away and stomped back to the kitchen before she could make it official.
Watching her go, Peggy came to stand in front of her husband. "Hint, hint?" she asked.
"Yea, I think so." Buckaroo let her haul him to his feet. "Wanna round up the Cavaliers again? I'll go make sure she's unarmed."
"What about Perfect Tommy and Knuckles?"
"Let Tommy be. His father should be here soon anyway, and..." Buckaroo frowned. "What do you mean what about Knuckles? Where'd she run off to?"
"You have to guess?" Peggy challenged.
"Following PT around?"
"At a distance. You know her?" Peggy shrugged. "She's seen him hurt. She won't let it happen again."
Buckaroo sighed. "Let her be. Just remind her not to jump the Senator until after he does something stupid.. `if' he does something stupid."
"Rawhide already gave her the lecture." she assured. "Speaking of Rawhide..." Peggy turned and headed across the dinning room. "Hey, cowboy! Kitchen duty! Remember?"
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