Episode 19: A Gobbling of Glorious Chaos

Thanksgiving morning in the Trump Tower Transitionarium dawned with a certain tense festivity.

On one hand, the halls were decked with golden autumn wreaths, turkey-shaped topiaries, and centerpieces that combined Pilgrim hats with tiny MAGA banners.

On the other, the staff wore grim, forced smiles, bracing for an event that promised not respite, but rampage.

Part 1: The Presidential Turkey Pardon, Rebranded

Trump, who had previously turned lunar real estate and Cabinet picks into spectacles, had something special planned for this Thanksgiving. “We’re going to have the biggest, best turkey pardon,” he announced, strutting into the Golden Briefing Atrium in a tie patterned with tiny pumpkins. “People say presidential turkey pardons are dull. Wrong! This one will be sensational. We’ll make the turkey beg for it—tremendous ratings.”

Aides eyed each other nervously. Kellyanne tried to spin it as “a humorous exaggeration,” while Jared quietly reminded Trump that turkeys don’t talk. Eric, holding a smaller version of the turkey centerpiece, managed a half-hearted cheer: “Go Turkey! Win big!”

Part 2: The Culinary Catastrophe

Down in the Transitionarium’s kitchens, chaos reigned. Melania and Rudy Giuliani had volunteered to oversee the menu after their last attempt at fragrance creation. This time they were determined to prove their versatility.

But the scene was… tense.

Rudy, still sporting a faint Caribbean tan and questionable fashion choices, argued with the head chef about brining techniques. Melania, impeccably dressed even in an apron, insisted on adding “Victory Mist” essence to the cranberry sauce for “a hint of success.” The chef pleaded for mercy, lamenting that citrusy perfume and gravy do not belong in the same meal.

At one point, a sudden shout: “Rudy, step away from the deep fryer!” Someone claimed the mashed potatoes had started to fizz suspiciously.

Part 3: A Table of Eccentrics

As the dining room was prepared, staff arranged place cards for the who’s-who of this new administration. Each name elicited a sigh or a grimace. Pam Bondi? Check. Pete Hegseth, possibly armed with carving knives he called “patriot blades”? Check. Linda McMahon, ready to wrestle gravy boats into submission? Sure, why not. Dr. Oz and RFK Jr. hovered in the corner, debating whether turkeys were “truly holistic” and if organic stuffing would align with vaccine hesitancy.

The tension was palpable as the staff realized: this wasn’t a family feast. This was a reality show reunion special, with everyone desperately trying to hog the spotlight and produce a new soundbite.

Part 4: The Turkey Takes a Stand

As the moment of the turkey pardon approached, a live-feed camera crew took their positions. Trump stood behind a podium outside, the crisp November air carrying the scent of scorched stuffing from the kitchens below.

A large, bewildered turkey named “Freedom” was presented. Trump cleared his throat, prepared to deliver a speech filled with boasts, grievances, and non-sequiturs. But just as he began, the turkey—perhaps unnerved by the raucous environment—made a frantic attempt at escape.

Feathers flew. The crowd gasped. Trump shouted, “Catch that turkey!” Secret Service agents sprinted across the lawn, staffers fumbled with netting, and Pete Hegseth tried to corral the bird by yelling, “Stand down! Stand down!”

Part 5: Indoors, The Meal Goes Sideways

Inside, oblivious to the turkey chase, Melania lifted the lid from a silver platter expecting a perfectly roasted bird. Instead, she found a charred lump vaguely resembling a turkey.

Rudy, flushed and sweating, admitted he got distracted refreshing his website sales (“Vote Giuliani” Bibles weren’t moving as fast as he hoped).

The sides fared no better: The cranberry “Victory Mist” sauce glowed faintly under the chandelier’s light, and the gravy had a peculiar fizz. The mashed potatoes somehow smelled like fresh pine. Staffers exchanged panicked looks.
Jared shrugged. “Maybe we can order pizza?”

Part 6: The Inevitable Speech

Eventually, the turkey was recaptured (feather ruffled but unharmed). Trump, somewhat ruffled himself, pardoned it in a hasty, half-hearted manner: “You’re free now—go, run, prosper!” The turkey promptly bolted, and the guests filed inside for what was supposed to be a grand feast.

In the dining room, as everyone surveyed the culinary horrors, Trump rallied: “Is this the best meal ever? Maybe not. But we don’t dwell on problems. We overcome! That’s what Thanksgiving is about—us winning despite everything.”

Kellyanne tried to start an applause. A few half-hearted claps followed. Eric quietly ordered takeout online.

Part 7: Coming Attractions

As the sun set over a bizarre, chaotic Thanksgiving, the Transitionarium’s staff realized something profound: This was their new normal. Turkeys outrunning Secret Service, perfume-flavored side dishes, Cabinet nominees who might turn dinner into policy fiascos—all part of the Trumpian tapestry.

Tomorrow would bring new dramas—maybe a second attempt at a Martian land claim, or another foreign leader advised to declare emergencies. For now, we had survived Thanksgiving, if surviving means ending the day with an empty stomach and a head full of confusion.

Yours in burnt stuffing and bewildered gratitude,
Turkey Tamer and Holiday Havoc Observer