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My Thanksgiving
will be spent with invited relatives who hold unknown motives to hurt me. First, I'm booby-trapped, dynamite strapped around my waist, in case they think they got me. The dynamite will be concealed by my tactical vest of army-green camouflage pattern. Seating myself on the fast escape chair, the chair nearest the front door, I will have the situation under control. My uzi rests on my lap under an extra big napkin throughout the serving. Whenever someone goes for the kitchen knife stuck in the juicy turkey I mentally move into code red, and in doing so I put on the army helmet. I then undo the hip holster strap in a concealed right-hand-move while coughing, drawing attention to my other hand by spreading turkey bones on the table top with it. When the kitchen knife is again put to rest in the turkey meat I return the holster strap over my tactical 8-shot S&W revolver by again coughing and drawing attention to my other hand, maybe by picking up mashed potatoes with it from my plate and throw it over the table. I then take the helmet off. The serving progresses in this fashion until I find a far-fetched reason to open fire. I then go out with a big bang, no matter what.
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