Just like real turkey, except not.
Yes, Josh. Tofurkey is vegan. Although wearing a leather jacket isn’t.
No, Gramma Maxine, vegetarianism is just a lifestyle choice, not a religion.
Yes, I’m sure.
No, mom, Mike won’t be coming this year.
Because we broke up.
Yes, it does make a difference.
Yes, it does.
Because I don’t want to have Thanksgiving dinner with my ex-boyfriend.
Because, well, it’s such a special time of year. I want to…
Yes, savor is the word I’m looking for. Thank you, Aunt Estelle. I want to savor my time with my family.
There isn’t any why, mom.
Have you been drinking Josh’s eggnog, mom?
Because you’re crying.
Yes, you are. There are tears in your eyes.
No, that’s not sweat. Why would you be sweating? Gramma Maxine’s got the thermostat set at sixty-one, just like always. I can almost see my breath.
No, I’m not complaining, Gramma Maxine. Having it be cold everywhere except right around the oven makes people get closer together.
No, that isn’t sarcasm, mom.
No, it isn’t.
Josh, yes, goddamnit. I already said the Tofurkey is vegan.
I’m shouting because I’m pissed off. And because you’re stupid. And you don’t reclaim leather jackets just because you buy them at the vintage store. You perpetuate–hush, Aunt Estelle; I’m making dinner, so I can cuss if I want–you perpetuate, Josh, the idea that animals are meant to be worn, which is kinda exactly anathemic to what vegans are about.
It’s iced tea.
Yes, it is.
It smells like bourbon because it’s a special blend of organic teas.
No, Rachel, I don’t think little Carl should have any of it.
Because it’s bourbon.
