CHAPTER FORTY FOUE scream queens, scene forty four "thanksgiving/dazed and confess"
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ABBY STOOD in the Kappa house kitchen with Dean Munsch, as she sorted out a turkey for thanksgiving dinner. Abby stood leaning against the counter as she snacked on mini marshmallows.
"Are you sure you're okay? You seem very...off putting." Dean Munsch asked her, chopping the turkey. Abby nodded and placed on a fake smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. I guess it just blows that this is my first thanksgiving without my mom."
Dean Munsch nodded, "I get it. Well, at least you have us here." Abby nodded with a small smile, "Yeah." Out of nowhere, Chanel #3 walked in, holding a candle holder scared as she screamed.
Abby screamed as did Dean Munsch, making #3 scream even more. "Oh, my god. Would you stop with the screaming?" Dean Munsch told her, #3 looked between them in confusion.
"What are you two doing here?" She asked, gagging at the sight of the dead turkey. "Zayday, Grace and I decided to stay here instead of going to Oakland." Abby explained, stuffing marshmallows into her mouth.
"And I came to slaughter old Tiburon." Dean Munsch said with a small smile. Chanel #3 looked at it confused, "Isn't that the turkey you pardoned on the quad yesterday?" Dean Munsch nodded, "Yes. Good old Tiburon. You don't think we would actually pardon a turkey, do you? It's more like a stay of execution until no one is looking." She slammed the knife down, cutting the head off the turkey.
Chanel #3 grimaced, "But why here?" Dean Munsch sighed, "Ah, well, I was disinvited to thanksgiving at my in laws' because they still think that I killed their son, my jerk off husband, so I'm kind of on my own." She explained, walking to the stove.
"Plus, you girls have the best cooking facilities on campus, although it doesn't look like you ever use them." Dean Munsch spoke, looking around. "The Chanel's don't use them. We try to, but there's never actually any food to use." Abby explained, turning to #3, "Why are you here?"
"My family thanksgiving sucked so I came here." Chanel #3 explained, shrugging. The other two nodded. "Hey, since you already have a turkey, why don't we just cook here? I've never cooked before but that should be fine since I usually just pretend to eat."
"Well, I can cook and eat for the both of us. But I demand that after we eat, we play charades." Dean Munsch said, sipping her drink. "Deal." #3 said with a smile. Abby nodded excitedly, "It's going to be our own little thanksgiving."
Zayday walked down the stairs and smiled at them, "Hey guys, is that a dead turkey?" Dean Munsch nodded, "Tiburon. He's going to be our main course for the feast." Zayday nodded with a small grimace.
Abby smiled at her, "It'll be great. We're going to have a good time, I know it." Zayday nodded, standing next to her as she helped her cook. "No, no, no, Chanel #3. You pull the feathers the way they lay on the bird." Dean Munsch stated, "And don't pull too many or you'll tear the skin."
Grace walked down the stairs, on the phone as she spoke to her dad. Abby turned to look at Zayday with a small smile, "Are you sure you don't want to go to your family? I'm fine here."
"No way. I'm not leaving any of y'all alone, and besides, you guys are my family too." Abby smiled softly at her, turning back around as they continued to make the turkey stuffing.
Grace walked in, hanging up the phone with a small sigh, "I hope you guys don't mind, my dad is going to join us." Dean Munsch nodded, "He's not with that crazy bitch, Gigi?"
"She hasn't contacted him, stood him up." Grace explained, Abby looked away, slightly smirking as she kneaded the stuffing.
——
A LITTLE WHILE later, Wes had arrived and the turkey had been finished, now cooking in the oven. They all huddled around as Dean Munsch opened the oven. "Wow, who knew it took so long to cook a turkey?" Grace sighed.
"All right, ladies, Westin, let's head into the dining room, where we will fill up on peking ravioli and charcuterie. I have a little game to play that's gonna make the time fly right by." Dean Munsch stated.
They all stood up, closing the oven before walking into the dining room. They each took a seat, as Dean Munsch placed some food and drinks down encore standing up and looking at everyone.
"Yes, it's simple. We're gonna go around and each of us is gonna make our case as to who we think the Red Devil killer is." She explained, Abby furrowed her eyebrows, slowly sipping her wine.
"I'll go first. I think we can all agree that one of the Red Devil killers is Boone." They all nodded except for Abby, who felt her heart wrench as she stayed silent. "I propose that the other Red Devil killer is...Chanel #3."
They all turned to her with raised eyebrows, Chanel #3 looked at them in shock, "What? No, I've never killed anyone as far as I know." Dean Munsch smirked, "But your real daddy has, Baby Manson."
Grace scoffed, "Okay, there is no evidence at all that mass murder is genetic." Wes looked between them all confused, "Wait, her dad is Charles Manson, how did I not know this?"
Abby looked at him, as she sat next to Zayday, "There's a lot of shit that you miss when you aren't stalking your daughter." Wes slightly glared at her. "I'm not saying it's anything more than pepper in the soup, seasoning for a big fat dish of well cooked evidence."
"Such as?" #3 asked, titling her head. "Item one, the chainsaw attack at Kappa. I was probably the last one to wake up and come downstairs that night. I saw Chanel #3 running up the back stairway, face glowing with perspiration, trying to sneak into her room undetected. I would say that is more than a little suspicious." Dean Munsch explained.
Chanel #3 glared, "I have bathroom shame issues. I always wait until everyone's asleep and then I sneak down to poop in the little powder room downstairs. That way, no one will disturb me." They all looked at her with grimaces.
"I usually wait a week or so between movements so it can be kind of an intense workout. I sweat a lot." She finished. "TMI." Zayday coughed, sharing a grimace with Abby.
"Um, okay, even still, how could she possibly be Charles Manson's daughter and one of the babies in the bathtub? I mean, don't we all agree those babies are the killers?" Grace pointed out, Dean Munsch scoffed, "Do we even have any evidence that this Manson story is true?"
She started to walk around the table, tapping the head of each person as she walked closer to Chanel #3, "How do we know she didn't just invent it, just so we wouldn't think she was the killer?" She stood in front of #3, pointing at her, "Goose."
"That seems like an unnecessarily complicated cover story." Zayday pointed out, Abby nodded. "Yes, but aren't those the best kind?" Dean Munsch smiled, reaching into her shirt as she pulled her phone out, "I think we have plenty here to go to the police. Let's see how innocent Chanel #3 looks when they start to dig a little."
"Hold the phone, Dean Munsch. I'd like to play, too. And the person I think it is, is you." Chanel #3 spoke confidently. Dean Munsch smirked as the others looked around curiously. Abby raised her eyebrows, smiling slightly as nobody suspected her.
