Funny and Cute Thanksgiving Short Stories

Confessions by terribIe

By terribIe for  Thanksgiving Contest

But really... what's a Thanksgiving dinner without the likes of Donald Trump, Kylie Jenner, Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, and G-Dragon?

Read the original Confessions here.

***

Hour 1

"Really? Really, Trump? You waited last minute to get that damn turkey from Albertson's... How do you propose you're going to cook it in time now?!" I yell, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm just gonna do it," he shrugs, running a hand over his balding, disgusting, comb-over scalp.

"We literally have like two hours to get this dinner together. I really doubt you―sorry, we―can pull it off." I rub my temples in exasperation. I had been planning this all month... How did I let things get so careless?

Oh yeah, by getting Donald Trump involved. He was all talk. I should've just prepared the fucking turkey myself.

"You women are always complaining. Are you just perpetually on your period?" He questions, looking at me with those repulsive duck lips of his.

"Are you just another stupid Republican who clearly doesn't advocate for women's equal rights and also happened to say that you'd have sex with your own daughter if she wasn't your daughter?"

"Damn right I am," he says, bursting into a fit of coughs after. "Hand me that turkey, sweet pea. I got this. Then go make yourself look pretty for the guests."

"...We have two hours. And who did you invite, exactly?"

"Some pretty boys and one of the Jenners."

Pretty boys? Oh God. He didn't mean...?

"Who did you invite? Specifically."

He groans. "You women are always prying."

"Listen," I say, stepping forward. I grab him by his collar, choking him, causing him to turn red like a tomato. "Just tell me who you invited before I cut off your head and cook it instead of the turkey."

"Jesus, calm down!" He says. "I made a small list over there by the table. Go check it yourself. I've got cooking to do."

Funny how he hadn't insisted that I cook instead. You know, considering usually women are expected to cook and clean, and Trump seemed like the kind of man to believe that men did the heavy lifting and women were there just purely for aesthetics. But, really. Come on. It's 2015.

Sighing, I go to the dining table and pick up a sticky note with some scribbling on it. There are six people in total, including me and Trump.

Guests:

- Future U.S. President ;)
- Jewel King
- Harry Styles
- Zayn Malik
- Kylie Jenner
- G-Dragon

I could feel the blood draining from my face. How could he do this?! How could that idiot invite the three boys that I basically sold my soul to over to my house?

There was still so much shit to be done, and this newly comprehended information just made me even more stressed. While Trump cooks, I'll have to clean and decorate the house. There was no way I was letting three ridiculously hot males (oh, and Kylie Jenner) over to my house while it looked like it was still recovering from WWII.

God, this better not be a trainwreck.

Hour 2

Finally finished. There was no dust or trash to be found anywhere―except in the kitchen. Because, you know... Trump was still in there.