It was an idea that had been bandied about the Lavell household for years: why not spend one Thanksgiving with the pilgrims? It was matriarch Paula Lavell’s brainchild, one of her bucket list items. She suggested the idea to the family many times only to be rebuffed. In a family of six, Paula was outnumbered five to one. But in November 1996, Paula’s husband, Brad, finally gave in, and, amid protestations that they were still outvoted four to two, the two parents forced their four sons on a journey to Plymouth, Massachusetts, for a Thanksgiving that none of them would ever forget. Not that they wouldn’t try.
Tuesday, November 26; George Washington Bridge, NY – The Slurpee Cup Incident
Paula Lavell (mother): I always wanted to have Thanksgiving with the pilgrims. Just sounded fun to me. Also, I didn’t feel like cooking. Have you ever cooked for six people? This one wants corn, this one doesn’t. This one likes mashed potatoes, this one doesn’t. I keep my cooking knives dull for a reason: less temptation. [crosses herself] Forgive me, Jesus.
Bradford “Brad” Lavell, Sr. (father): She said, “Thanksgiving with the pilgrims,” and I heard, “You’ll have to do all the driving while I sit and stare out the window.” But what was I gonna do? Say no?
Bradford “B.J.”/“Beej” Lavell, Jr. (age 18): Dad totally could’ve said no. He could’ve prevented the whole thing. But noooo, those two idiots always have each other’s backs. They’re like Hitler and Goebbels. Not sure which is which, though. [pauses] Although Mom seems more like Hitler.
Cain “Cay” Lavell (age 16): There were at least two keg parties I missed out on. Two that I know about. I did get to piss in Beej’s face, though. That was awesome. Asshole had that coming.
Abel Lavell (age 15): Dude, it sucked. I mean, except when Cay pissed in Beej’s face. That was hilarious. Asshole had that coming.
Abraham “Abe” Lavell (age 10): Cay’s wing-wang is small, like mine. I like pilgrims.
Bradford, Sr.: I really didn’t want to do the trip in one shot, but Paula insisted. She said it’d only take six hours. Only. Like six isn’t a lot. Goddamn thing took us eight hours. “Take the GW,” she said. “It’ll be faster,” she said.
Cain: The drive wasn’t so bad. It would’ve been better if Beej shared his Calvin and Hobbes books with us.
Bradford, Jr.: Look, man. You know what it’s like to have three younger brothers? It’s like having three malignant tumors: they keep growing and cause you nothing but pain and irritation. [pauses] Actually, no, it’s not like that because you can surgically remove tumors. My brothers are inoperable. And you know how many times I’ve had to rescue one of my books from the bathroom after Cay or Abel take them in there while they’re shitting? You can’t do that with somebody else’s books, man. You just can’t.
Cain: Beej is such a pussy.
Abel: Beej is such a little bitch. No wonder him and Abe get along so well; Abe’s a little bitch, too.
Abraham: Beej let me read Yukon Ho! It’s the one Cay always takes in the bathroom when he makes a Beej. That’s what Cay calls it when he poops: “making a Beej.”
Paula: Alright, so the GW was jammed. Who knew?
Bradford, Sr.: Thanksgiving week is historically the biggest travel week OF THE ENTIRE YEAR. How could you notknow that? I should’ve given her an earful about that. But know what happened the last time I blew up at Paula? She brought it up SIXTEEN YEARS LATER.
Bradford, Jr.: Mom’s totally passive aggressive. I swear she gave Cay all those juice boxes because she was annoyed that I wasn’t sharing my books. She knew what she was doing.
Cain: I ate a thing of chips, two things of pretzels, and half a thing of Goldfish. Washed all that down with, like, four apple juices.
Abel: Cay is such a fat ass. Don’t tell him I said that, though. Last time I called him that he gave me a contusion on my arm. I didn’t even know what a contusion was before he gave me one.
Paula: What’s a road trip without at least a dozen bathroom stops? So of course Cain had to pee when we were stuck on the GW. [smiles, shakes her head] That kid loves his apple juice.
Cain: Shit is so good.
Bradford, Jr.: So Mom’s like, “B.J., can you hold that Slurpee cup for him?”
Abraham: I’m glad I was done with my Slurpee. Mom got it for me when we stopped to go to the bathroom in New Jersey. She said it was my treat for being good. Nobody else got one.
Abel: Abe is such a little bitch.
Cain: Abe is such. A little. Bitch.
Abraham: Blue raspberry’s my favorite.
Bradford, Jr.: I was like, “No, I’m not gonna hold the piss cup for that fat ass.” Dad guilted me into it, though. He said I was the only one he trusted to do it. Like holding a piss cup is the equivalent of brain surgery.
Bradford, Sr.: There is no finer weapon in the war that is parenting than the guilt trip. I can get that kid to do anything. [pauses] Honestly, though, one of the others would’ve cocked it up royally. A couple months ago, Cain was driving my car, and the taillight went out. So I told him to change the bulb. Which is the easiest thing in the world to do. You go in through the trunk, take out the bulb, pop in another. Takes two minutes. Well, the kid actually ripped. The taillight. Off the car to get to the bulb. And he did it with his bare hands. I didn’t even know that was possible. Anyway, that’s why I only trust B.J.
Bradford, Jr.: So I’m holding the piss cup, and Cay pulls his dick out, and…nothing happens.
Cain: Yeah, so, I’m pee shy. Mom says it happens to everyone.
Bradford, Jr.: Not everybody is pee shy. I could piss in front of a stadium of people.
Bradford, Sr.: I don’t know where Cain got the pee shyness from. None of his brothers are pee shy. In fact, one time, B.J. peed in front of a stadium of people. I was there. During a soccer game, he had to pee and there wasn’t time to go to the bathroom, so he ran off the field during a play and pissed right there on the sidelines. Crowd went nuts. The ref also yellow-flagged him, which was a bullshit call. I mean, c’mon, kid had to go.
Bradford, Jr.: Anyway, I didn’t look at Cay. Nobody did. And Cay is straining and straining. And then he starts laughing.
Cain: I was just looking down at my dick and at Beej’s dumb face and Beej holding the Slurpee cup, and I got the giggles. Happens when I’m nervous.
Bradford, Jr.: And what happens when you laugh? You relax. So, fuckin’ Cay starts pissing, but the fat fuck is also laughing, and his aim isn’t great anyway, so the piss goes all over the place. Goes on the windows, on the seats, and, yes, on. My. Face.
Abel: [laughing] Asshole had that coming.
Bradford, Jr.: I swear that motherfucker did that on purpose.
Cain: I didn’t do it on purpose. [pauses] I mean, okay, maybe a little. [laughs]
Bradford, Jr.: Even went in my mouth.
Cain: I didn’t mean for it to go in Beej’s mouth, though. [pauses] I mean, okay, maybe a little. [laughs]
Abraham: It smelled like apple juice. I wonder if it tasted like apple juice.
Paula: I really tried not to laugh. It’s like when one of them farts – I always try not to laugh. [laughs] But it’s no use. [laughs] Maybe it’s like a form of Stockholm Syndrome – I’ve been around farts and toilet humor so much that now I think it’s endearing. [laughs, crosses herself] Forgive me, Jesus.
Bradford, Sr.: Nobody was laughing when B.J. started puking, though. [shakes head] This always happens. We go on a road trip, B.J. ends up puking. We went to D.C., he puked. We went to the Outer Banks, he puked. We went to Rhode Island, he puked. We went to Rehoboth Beach, he puked.
Bradford, Jr.: I have a sensitive stomach. Also, PISS WENT IN MY MOUTH.
Abel: Asshole puked on me. Shit had chili and hot dogs in it. [pauses] And fries. Some of ‘em were whole.
Bradford, Sr.: We’d stopped at a hot dog place in Jersey for lunch. I asked him if it tasted as good coming out as it did going in. [laughs]
Bradford, Jr.: Dad’s such a tool. [pauses] But it actually didn’t taste that bad.
Abel: Doesn’t Beej chew his food? How was that shit whole when it came out?
Bradford, Jr.: I really did try to get as much of it in the Slurpee cup as I could. But some went on Abel. Sue me. Serves that little prick for laughing when Cay pissed on me.
Paula: And then Abraham started throwing up. He said it was the smell.
Abraham: It smelled like hot dogs. I like hamburgers.
Cain: [laughing] I was laughing so hard, dude. I can’t believe I got the window open in time.
Bradford, Sr.: I look in the sideview mirror, and all I see is Abe’s little head poke out the window, and the kid just pukes all over the side of the van. Just a fan of puke, like his head was a spray nozzle.
Paula: Needless to say, we got the van washed and Abel washed as soon as we got off the GW.
Bradford, Jr.: Fuckin’ Cay.
Abel: Fuckin’ Beej.
Abraham: Hot dogs are gross.
Cain: [laughing, trying to catch his breath]
Wednesday, November 27; Plymouth, MA – “Thanksgiving” with the Pilgrims
Paula: We didn’t technically have Thanksgiving with the pilgrims; we had Thanksgiving with the pilgrims the daybefore Thanksgiving. But you know, potato, potahto.
Bradford, Jr.: So it was a fake Thanksgiving with fake pilgrims. And the only one of us who didn’t have fake enthusiasm was Mom.
Bradford, Sr.: I went along with it because marriage is in for a penny, in for a pound, but Jesus Christ, even I was like, “Really? This is something you just have to do?” ‘Course I didn’t say that. Also, don’t tell Paula I took the Lord’s name in vain. She hates that.
Abel: We go to this, like, visitor center-type place. And there’s this big room that has all these picnic tables in it.
Cain: But they were long-ass picnic tables. And I’m like, “Oh fuck, we have to sit with other people?” What if I need to fart or some shit? I’m a fast eater. I need to be able to blast one out.
Paula: Oh, it was so fun. The tables were roughhewn wood, really long, very rustic. And each place setting was just a tin plate and a knife. Just like the first Thanksgiving.
Bradford, Jr.: It was nothing like the first Thanksgiving. You want to recreate the first Thanksgiving, have a buncha pilgrims kidnap a buncha Indians and sell them as slaves while infecting them with diseases and stealing their land, then you have the first Thanksgiving. And you know some of those pilgrims raped the shit out of the Indians. White settlers loved to rape. Just rape, rape, rape. And then after all that raping and killing and enslaving, sure, they all hung out and ate turkey together.
Paula: It was so quaint!
Bradford, Jr.: I swear, I gotta be adopted or switched at birth or something. No way I came from such dopey people. [crosses arms over chest, pauses] I mean, who names a kid B.J.? Might as well skip the foreplay and just name me Dickgargler or Penistaster.
Abraham: The plates were cold. I put one against my face.
Cain: And no forks. No forks! How do you expect me to eat without a fork? We’re not having fuckin’ hamburgers and hot dogs.
Abraham: I’m so glad they didn’t serve hot dogs.
Cain: And I like to slop on the gravy, know what I mean? Can’t have fuckin’ gravy running all over my hands and arms and shit.
Abel: Cay is such a fat ass. Anyway, we sit down, and then all these douche bags in pilgrim clothes come marching out. And they start talking to us, telling us about pilgrim life. Like those assholes know.
Cain: Goddamn right I asked them about the forks.
Bradford, Jr.: The guy who talked to us was this really tubby guy who looked like he ate a whole turkey before he came out. This dude waddles over to us, and Cay asks about the fork. As well he should’ve. I mean, c’mon, cut the shit and give us some forks.
Paula: [hand on chest, beaming] Oh, it was so funny. The pilgrim said a fork was about yay-high [stands, holds hand about chest-height] and used for pitching hay. [laughs] So funny.
Abel: It was so gay, dude.
Bradford, Jr.: If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s actors who get lost in the part. And that tub of liquified bologna was in deep.
Bradford, Sr.: It was kinda funny, I guess. But it was funnier when he busted Cay’s chops about his weight. He said something like, “Oh, he looks like a well-fed lad!” [laughs]. Cay didn’t really appreciate that, though.
Cain: Fat pilgrim fuck.
Abel: It was funny as shit, dude.
Bradford, Jr.: So then I asked the guy how many Indian women he raped.
Abraham: Mom said Sodomites do rape. I don’t remember that from Sunday School.
Bradford, Sr.: I’m not a violent man. I’m really not. But I could’ve strangled B.J. when he said that.
Paula: It was like being punched in the throat. Not that I’ve been punched in the throat. I’ve been kicked in the throat, though. When Brad took karate, he showed me a move he learned one night and accidentally kicked me in the throat. And like that night, I definitely had the wind knocked out of me when B.J. said that.
Bradford, Sr.: I could’ve kicked that kid in the throat.
Bradford, Jr.: Listen, Cay’s an asswipe. No love lost there. But he’s my asswipe. And there is no. Fucking. Way some pre-diabetic, fifth-rate community theater has-been is gonna try to wipe his fat cornhole with my asswipe. So yeah, I asked how many Indian women he raped.
Cain: I can count on one finger how many times Beej was awesome. That was the one time. [pauses] Kinda counts for two, though. [pauses] It’s like if Lex Luthor used his powers for good to save the world and Superman at the same time.
Abel: The pilgrim didn’t know what to say. His face was red as a kickball.
Abraham: This kid in my class, Andrew Renshaw, he stole my peanut butter and jelly at lunch and took a bite of it. Then his face got all red and puffy and he couldn’t breathe. The pilgrim looked like Andrew. [pauses] I wish I had a peanut butter and jelly for Thanksgiving.
Bradford, Jr.: The guy starts sputtering, going, “Uh uh uh.” So I’m like, “When you settled here, how many Indian women did you rape? Did you give them syphilis?” [opens eyes wide, shakes] “Uh uh uh.” [laughs] Thought he was gonna have a stroke. [pauses, grins sardonically] That would’ve been awesome.
Paula: This was one long table, mind you. We were with other people, other families. And people were staring. And my face flushes, and I start apologizing, telling the pilgrim that nobody thinks he raped anybody, only Sodomites rape, all that.
Bradford, Sr.: She could’ve stopped at “I’m sorry.”
Abel: Dude just disappeared, and then they started serving the food.
Cain: Just a turkey leg and some rolls. No gravy, no mashed potatoes, no stuffing, no cranberry sauce. No pumpkin pie, man! It was so lame.
Abraham: I liked it. It reminded me of the Renaissance Faire. [throws up hands] More turkey for thy kingdom! Bring ye wenches! [pauses] There were no wenches, though.
Abel: Abe is such a little bitch. But I guess when you’re young, you like stupid shit like that. I mean, when I was his age, I liked Disney on Ice. [pauses] Actually, I’d much rather see some dipshit in a Goofy costume and ice skates than a bunch of fake-ass pilgrims. And at least there I could get some cotton candy.
Bradford, Jr.: You know, from a purely Machiavellian-puppet-master-kinda standpoint, what Mom did was genius – she got Cay, Abel, and I to agree on something: Thanksgiving with the pilgrims was the lamest, biggest waste of time ever. [pauses] Of course, comparing Mom to Machiavelli is an insult to Machiavelli; Mom didn’t know what the fuck she was doing.
Paula: [smiling] It was worth every penny.
Bradford, Sr.: I can’t believe I paid for that.
Friday, November 29; Plymouth, MA – Native American Village
Paula: On Black Friday, we went to a real Indian village. They had teepees and everything!
Bradford, Jr.: It was another bullshit spectacle for rube tourists. But the Indians were actually real-deal Indians. It wasn’t a bunch of white assholes in face paint doing that “We smoke-um peace pipe” shit. I wasn’t impressed, per se, but I wasn’t sickened.
Abraham: How, white man! [claps hand over mouth repeatedly while making a high-pitched whining sound]
Abel: When Mom told us where we were going, I was just like, “Finally! I’ll be able to smoke some weed.”
Cain: We brought our own peace pipe, dude. [pauses] And some of that dank!
Bradford, Sr.: I tried to reason with Paula, I did. I said, “We don’t need to see the Indian village. Let’s get ahead of the traffic, it’s gonna be a long drive, blah blah blah.” I mean, I gotta be back at work on Monday. Let me at least get a couple days when I’m not being dragged all over creation or sitting in traffic. [sighs] As usual, my breath was wasted. [pauses] This is why the husband always dies before the wife.
Bradford, Jr.: If I were the Indians, I would’ve been pissed. I mean, those asshole pilgrims were inside, all warm and toasty. And then those Indians are all stuck outside, freezing their balls off. And the Indians were far less annoying. They didn’t get lost in the part, they didn’t act like they were Mayflower-era Indians. I remember we saw one of ‘em making a canoe. Like, actually making one. This dude took a log and hollowed it out with a hatchet right in front of us.
Paula: I said, “Did your ancestors teach you this skill?” And the Indian said yes, his uncle taught him. So I asked who his uncle was in the tribe. A medicine man, something like that?
Bradford, Jr.: [shakes head] It was so fuckin’ embarrassing.
Paula: And the guy said his uncle lives in Attleboro. And he’s a plumber!
Bradford, Sr.: Driving home, we saw a billboard for Echohawk Plumbing. The little cartoon Indian on the billboard held a tomahawk in one hand and a u-bend pipe in the other. The billboard said something like, “We even cut pipes!” [chuckles] Thought that was kinda clever.
Bradford, Jr.: Mom was so disappointed. [grins] It was definitely a highlight of the trip.
Abraham: One time Mom had to call the plumber after I clogged the toilet. She told Dad I poop like a man. But she didn’t say it like she was proud. [pauses] But I was proud.
Abel: Everyone was staring at that stupid canoe guy, so I told ‘em me and Cay were gonna explore the adobe huts or some shit.
Bradford, Jr.: They tried to be all nonchalant about it, like they weren’t gonna go smoke weed. They’re such idiots. But then, so are Mom and Dad, so they let ‘em go off by themselves.
Cain: Beej knew, man. You can’t get shit past that motherfucker. It’s like when I take one of his Calvin and Hobbes books to the shitter. I put it back where I found it, but the dude still knows. It’s like being a dick gives you superpowers.
Abel: Me and Cay went and found a nice spot behind a wigwam at the far end of the village. Some Indian chick was making moccasins in the wigwam and singing some Indian song. Definitely one of the coolest places I’ve ever gotten high.
Cain: It was not a good place to get high.
Abel: I take a couple puffs off my one-hitter, then I give it to Cay. And Cay’s lookin’ around all paranoid and shit. As usual. [pauses] I love him, I really do, but he can be such a buzzkill sometimes.
Cain: Once I was sure the coast was clear, I smoked. I took a big-ass hit, too. Started coughing like a motherfucker.
Abel: That’s the other thing – he always takes way too big a hit and starts coughing his ass off. Which, normally, I don’t care. If we’re at home or whatever, fine. But in public? [shakes head] Keep it together, man.
Cain: [shakes head] I was so high.
Abel: On top of that, Cay can get really paranoid sometimes. So he starts looking around even more, asking me did Beej follow us, does he know where we are, will he tell Mom and Dad, and I’m like, “Dude, chill. Beej doesn’t know. And even if he did, Beej is a dick, not a narc.” But he just kept freaking out.
Cain: [grins sheepishly] I was so high.
Paula: It was evident the Indians weren’t even trying to act like real Indians, so I lost interest pretty quickly. Which annoyed me. After all, we paid a lot of money to come see this thing, and the least they could do is put on a show. Don’t break the fourth wall, you know?
Bradford, Sr.: [makes air quotes] “We” paid to see this thing, and yet I am the only one who works. [pauses] This is why the husband always dies before the wife.
Bradford, Jr.: After the canoe guy burst Mom’s bubble, she wanted to leave tout suite. So she sent me to find those two idiots. Which wasn’t hard. Stupidity has a very pungent aroma. [pauses] And so does weed.
Abel: So then the singing stops, and the Indian chick comes out and asks what we’re doing. And of course Cay freezes up and looks guilty as shit. So I’m like, “We’re just taking a break from our family. They’re kind of annoying.” But she didn’t look like she heard me.
Cain: She was staring, man. She knew. She knew. I put the one-hitter in my pocket, but I swear she smelled it.
Abel: She’s like, “Is he okay?” And I’m like, “Yeah, he’s fine.” But she wasn’t buyin’ it, and she goes, “You’re high as shit.”
Cain: Abel’s faster than I am. He denied that shit immediately. He got all pissed about it, too, like, “How dare you accuse us of that.” It was crazy. For a second, I actually believed him.
Abel: Last year I played George Gibbs in “Our Town” at school. Didn’t tell my family, though. They start thinking I’m some douche bag theater kid, game over. But that Indian chick called my bluff. She said we better give her our weed, or she’ll tell on us.
Cain: I was like, Oh shit, if Mom and Dad find out, we. Are. Fucked. I was ready to hand that shit right over.
Abel: Fuckin’ Cay took his hand out of his pocket, and I knew he had the one-hitter in his hand. So I told the Indian chick, I was like, “Go ahead. Who you gonna tell?” Her word against ours, right?
Cain: This chick starts yelling, man. Like, “These guys have weed! They’re high as a kite!” So I was like, Fuck this, we can get more weed. Handed the shit right over.
Abel: Fuckin’ Cay, man. Fuckin’. Cay. If he were hiding Jews in Nazi Germany, those Jews would’ve been fucked.
Cain: She took the weed and the one-hitter and was like, “Reparations, bitches.” Then she threw a pair of moccasins at us.
Abel: [grins] I’m not gonna lie. That reparations shit made me smile.
Bradford, Jr.: I saw the whole thing. Got there just as the Indian woman caught ‘em. I ducked behind another hut to watch. [grins] It was quite a show.
Cain: The Indian chick goes back in her hut, and then Beej shows up, looking all annoyed. [pauses] He knew, man. He knew.
Bradford, Jr.: It took everything I had not to laugh in their dumb, stoned faces.
Abel: Asshole says Mom wants to leave, so I picked up the moccasins, and we followed him back to the canoe dude.
Cain: I was still high as shit, so in my head I was freaking out about seeing Mom and Dad.
Bradford, Jr.: Cay kept looking around and rubbing his hands together. And his eyes were so red. Abel’s, too. I could not wait for Mom and Dad to see them.
Abel: We get back, and Mom was like, “Why are your eyes so red?”
Cain: I almost shit myself.
Abel: I was like, “They have a fire going over there. It was a sweat lodge thing. It was so smoky.”
Bradford, Jr.: And I turn and see smoke coming from one of the huts sort of near where Cay and Abel were.
Cain: Then Abel goes, “We got these for you,” and gives the moccasins to Mom.
Abel: “Just wanted to thank you for giving us a nice Thanksgiving,” blah blah blah. Total bullshit.
Bradford, Jr.: That devious. Mother. Fucker.
Cain: I don’t know how Abel does it. He’s like the Jedi master of potheads. [does a Yoda impression] Mmm, smoke the trees, you will. [laughs]
Paula: They’re such nice moccasins. Really well-crafted. The bead work on the toes is especially impressive. [smiles] They’re such sweet boys, thinking of me like that. [crosses herself] I’m so blessed.
Bradford, Jr.: They’re such dickbags. [pauses] But I gotta hand it to Abel – that was some grade-A con man shit right there. If I had to give him a report card, my comment would be, “Exceeds expectations.”
Bradford, Sr.: But did I get any moccasins? The founder of the feast? The driver? The guy who, you know, paid for everything? Noooooo, god forbid I get any recognition. [pauses] This is why the husband always dies before the wife.
Abraham: The moccasins smelled like skunks. I wonder if Pepe Le Pew smells like moccasins.
Saturday, November 30; Malvern, PA – Back at Home
Cain: First thing I did when I got home was take a Beej with the door open. That’s when you know you’re home – when you can shit comfortably with the door open.
Abel: First thing I did when we got home was go down the block to Mike Frank’s house. That kid knows how to get high and not lose his shit. [pauses] Actually, that wasn’t the first thing I did. First thing I did was see Cay take a dump with the door open. Then I left. [shakes head] Disgusting motherfucker.
Abraham: First thing I did was make my Power Ranger guys fight my WWF guys. The Macho Man did way better against the Red Ranger than I thought. Hulk Hogan beat the crap out of the Blue Ranger, though. No surprise there.
Bradford, Jr.: Full disclosure, I also took a shit with the door open when I got home. But I have my own bathroom. [pauses] I’m disgusting, but I’m disgusting in private. Big difference.
Bradford, Sr.: First thing I did was have a Stoli on the rocks. A double. I needed something to wash down the Advil after that drive.
Paula: First thing I did when we got back was I read the brochure for the Victorian Thanksgiving. They do that at the same place as the Indian one. I would love to do that next year.
Bradford, Sr.: I saw that stupid brochure. Saw it right when she picked it up. There is no way in hell I’m paying for that. If she tries to go through with it, I’ll make it my mission to get hurt at work before Thanksgiving. I work at a power plant, you know. I could easily lose a toe or a finger. If I had to choose between sitting in traffic on the GW or losing an appendage, I can live without a toe or a finger.
Bradford, Jr.: I’m not above committing matricide. Or patricide. If it’s between life in prison or spending next Thanksgiving at some stupid Victorian thing, I’m okay with prison. At least there, I know my family can’t get to me. That, I’d be thankful for.
END