Blake Meets Thanksgiving, Part 2

We return to find our hungry crusader preparing for his next battle. Will he be able to overcome these challenges and force down the mighty beets?

Friday went by slowly and dully as I let myself and my stomach recoup from yesterday’s meal. Before I knew it I’d swallowed the last of my evening’s meds, put my faithful chair to stable and was shutting my eyes.

I woke to the sound of my annoying alarm (though all are quite so) thinking, “Is it time to spring forth into action?” My mind told me “yes’ but my arms, strengthened by months of turning those heavy wheels of my chair, overpowered and slammed down upon the snooze button. Three, maybe four more times of this and I was up, up and out the door.

My chauffeur, Papa, and Mom as my navigator were, of course, with me on this, perhaps my most dangerous adventure. We arrived in the troubled City of Whitehall in a flash. Not because it’s only a few miles and there was no traffic, but because we’re that damned good!

Exiting the car without a hitch, I grabbed my trusty walker and checked to make sure it was in stealth mode. Tennis balls firmly attached to its feet, we were ready for action. As I hobbled towards the door which father had opened, Mom kept watch to ensure our entrance was the surprise that we’d planned.

It was a few days prior when a group of thugs, calling themselves the “Farnlacher's” paid me a little visit; under the guise of cousins and an uncle. After the usual chatter of “How’s life?”, and “How ‘bout dem Bears?”, I led them towards my room. It was then when one of my nurses stopped me and asked, “So, are you ready to go see your family?” I quickly shushed her and continued on. But as soon as I turned the corner, another nurse stopped and asked the same! This time one of the cousins, Daelann (she claimed), was in earshot. When opportunity came I took her to the side and, using my amazing powers of persuasion, convinced her to keep such knowledge secret.

It seemed her secret was kept, for I had made it all the way into the “Family’s” lair. There they stood (and sat): aunts, uncles, cousins, Grandparents, and brothers. A shocked look, wiped all the way across the board. An eerie silence before the storm, then “BOOM!” Immediately the bombardment of “Hi’s!”, “Hello’s”, “So glad you could make its”, hugs, kisses, handshakes and quizzes began. The first few were blocked with “I’m good” and “I’ve missed you”, but the sheer quantity of attention began to pound me down, like a fat man does cakes. Then suddenly, through their cloud of greetings pierced the call, “Let’s eat!” There upon the couch I laid, hand chafed and tongue left dry. I turned my head towards Papa and whispered, “Please, dark meat only. And a Pepsi, please.”

After dinner and dessert, the final test was brought forth. As Aunt Susie laid the ancient board upon the table a Catholic choir could be heard in the distance; “Ha, he, ha, he, ha, ha, ha, ha, haaaaa.” Everyone exchanged blank stares as they drew their seven sacred tiles and began the grand game, “Lazy Susan Scrabble”.

Who won? What else was eaten? And, what about dem Bears? Honestly, I don’t remember. It seemed pie overload had cause a fart in my brain. Oh well, on to my next adventure.

Oh yea, about the beets. Shoot! Y’all know I don’t mess with beets!