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It was a nice autumn day. Leaves were falling onto the ground from trees. A soft breeze moved the blades of grass in the yards of homes. A few houses already had Christmas decor up. Today was Thanksgiving day in the United States. America had invited his brother Canada, along with England and France. He insisted on having a Thanksgiving dinner with everyone and having each guest bring a dish. Except for England, he can just bring the drinks.
America had already cooked the rest of the dishes the previous night. Green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, stuffing, mac and cheese, corn bread, ham, and three kinds of pies. France had brought freshly baked bread rolls and Canada brought poutine. England brought cider and some mashed potatoes, which were promptly thrown away the second he walked into the house. Everything was already set on the table except for one food item. The last thing that was needed was the main course, the turkey, and America knew the best way to cook it!
“Um, America? Aren't you supposed to take the turkey out the night before?” Canada asked. He was allowed to watch America work in the kitchen as long as he didn't try and infuse all the food with maple syrup. He looked as America covered the bird in seasonings. Honestly, it looked like it was every seasoning he owned. Yay.
“I forgot, but don't worry! It'll be ready for tonight!” America exclaimed. “I got a plan!”
“Plan?” Canada slightly jumped when America grabbed the tray holding the turkey with one hand and made his way to his backyard. He sighed and followed, walking past England.
“Canada. Why is he taking the bloody thing to the backyard?” England asked, making a face as he watched the idiot go through the door.
“That's what I'm going to find out.” Canada went outside. England rolled his eyes and turned on the volume on the TV.
America was now standing in front of his bonfire pit. Next to it was a long and large pot big enough for the bird to fit in. Next to that was a lot of oil bottles, unopened. He grinned and gently put the turkey on a nearby table. As he stared at the pit, Canada walked up next to him.
“America, this doesn't look right. When I cook turkey I always use the oven.”
“Well I don't have time for that, Canadia! This is way faster!” America ducked down and opened one of the oil bottles. He then proceeded to pour the whole thing into the pot. Once it was empty, he tossed it behind him and repeated with the next bottle.
Canada walked back to the door that led back into the house and looked at England.
“He's going to fry it.”
“Of course he is.” England crossed his arms. He looked over as France returned from the bathroom.
“Ah, Canada! What are you doing outside?” France asked, sitting onto the couch right next to England, who immediately scowled and scooted away from him.
“Oh, well, America is going to fry the turkey outside.” He explained.
“That sounds just like him. Well, I suppose it's not the craziest thing to do with a turkey!” France hummed and put his arm around England. Canada shrugged and looked behind him. America was still pouring in the oil. Next to him were about four empty bottles. The leftover oil was dripping onto the grass.
“America! Isn't that enough oil?” Canada called out from the doorway to the best of his ability.
“Just a couple more bottles, dude!” America called back. He tossed the empty bottle and grabbed another full one. Canada looked back at the two with a worried look.
“Great, not only is the cooked food most likely radioactive, we now have to eat the most fattening turkey in existence.” England commented.
“Still better than anything you cook, mon ami.” France teased.
England took France's arm off of him, stood up, and walked to sit on a different couch.
“Well, I think we should be thankful we are getting food. Isn't that the message?” Canada softly grinned, only to see the older countries were busy watching the TV. “...Right.” Canada sighed and went back outside, only to get bonked by an empty bottle of oil. “Eh.”
“Oh sorry, man. Alright, first step is done!” America grinned and walked back inside. He muttered a soft “hey dudes” to the other two and walked back to the kitchen. He opened a drawer under the kitchen counter and pulled out a lighter than was able to bend in all sorts of directions. He looked over it and nodded, leaving the kitchen and going back outside. He muttered the same greeting to the two of the couch, who were back to somewhat cuddling on the cushions. He walked back to Canada and held up the lighter.
“America, are you sure this is a good idea? Honestly, there's no shame in ordering a turkey already cooked or just staying with what we already have. Thanksgiving here should-”
“Hmm? Are you saying something?” America turned on the lighter and ignited the leftover firewood under the pot which was being held up so it would be leveled. He grabbed one of the logs and adjusted it, making sure all the wood was catching the flames. “Cool! Now to let the oiil heat up and it's party time!”
“Amer-”
“Relax, man! It'll be worth it!” America put his arm around Canada and patted his shoulder. Canada sighed again but smiled.
“If you say so…”
The two walked back inside, sitting on the couch the other two weren't on. England had his hand on France's chest while France kept his arm around and watched the TV. Canada sat near the arm rest and placed his elbow on it. America sat next to him, placing his feet on the coffee table in front.
“What are we watching?” America asked.
“One of my documentaries!” England said proudly.
France grabbed the remote and tossed it to Canada so he could change it. England grumbled but didn't move away. The country with the curl in his face flipped through the channels, deciding to settle on an American Football game.
“No, please. Anything else!” England groaned.
“Dude, it's my house and Canada picked it.” America slightly frowned at the older one.
“I'm only here because it would be rude to refuse an invitation from a friend and as a gentleman, I-”
“Mon ami, the game is on.” France gently placed his index finger on the British man's lips. The two younger countries chuckled at the sight then returned their gazes to the screen. England rolled his eyes and decided to watch along. The four watched for a while, enjoying the calmness for the brief moment it was there.
America got up from the couch and took a peek outside, hearing the faint bubbling from the oil. He grinned and rushed to the kitchen to grab a poultry fryer tool he bought the night before online. The noise he made trying to pull it out of a cupboard alerted the other three. Deciding to watch how this was going to go, each of them got up and walked to the kitchen.
“What kind of tool is that? Looks like a torture device.” France asked.
“Oh dude, it's cool. You put the bird in the middle, like through this wire, and it holds it in place while it fries! Come on, I'll show you!” He held the item and walked to the backyard, the other three reluctantly following. They stood in a line as America looked at the pot of oil.
“America, this has got to be the stupidest idea I've seen in recent days.” England crossed his arms.
“Really, we have enough food. We can live without the turkey.” France placed a hand on his hip.
“What France said. Frying it won't thaw the turkey.” Canada mumbled.
“Alright gang!” America said, ignoring whatever the others said. Not important. “Oil is hot and this bird is going to fry!” He put the poultry fryer down and grabbed the turkey. He opened it up and pushed it through the main wire of the tool. Once it was put in, he wiped the wetness from the meat onto his shirt and jeans.
“Oh God.” England stuck his tongue out in disgust.
“Don't worry I'll change clothes!” America grinned and grabbed the turkey with the tool. As he lifted it up, the still thawing ice dripped onto the grass. “Are we ready?”
“America, really rethink this. Like I said, we can just eat what we have!” Canada exclaimed, putting his hands into fists and moving them up and down in front of his chest.
“Nah!”
“Wait, if it's still wet.” France's eyes narrowed then widened. “America! It's still wet!”
“Yeah! It'll thaw in the heat!” America lowered the bird into the oil.
“No! It’s going to-”
As if the world was now in slow motion, America let the turkey fall into the oil. France yelled out. England processed what was happening and yelled as well. Canada placed his hands on his head as he watched everything unfold. America had a stupid grin on his face.
As quickly as the turkey had fallen, the oil overflowed and fell onto the fire below. At the same time, the ice and water from the small amount of thawing mixed. America blinked as flames began to rise above his height and spread onto the grass. His grin changed into surprise as he yelled out, the world still moving in slow motion.
“Aaaawwww fuuucccckkkkk!”
The four men were suddenly engulfed in flames as it latched onto the oil covered grass thanks to the bottles from before. England yelled in pain.
“YOU TIT!”
The yard was soon covered in flames as the four countries felt themselves succumb to the fire.
By some miracle, after a couple minutes, the sprinklers in America’s yard turned on, extinguishing the fire on the grass. As the fire faded, the four laid on the grass with burnt clothes and unbeating hearts. The American football game could still be heard from the living room. There was a touchdown!
The pot holding the turkey toppled over and landed on America. Laying on his dead body was a perfectly cooked turkey. Golden and juicy. Just begging for four people to devour it.
America was no longer allowed to cook the turkey when he hosted Thanksgiving.