I awake with a tryptophan hangover, from a four-day long turkey-bender, shirt drenched in some ungodly combination of sweat and gravy, giblets stuck to the ceiling, to find that winter in chicago is finally upon us.
But there are so many more questions than answers. How long was i asleep for? Why am I wearing this necklace made of turkey vertebrae? Where the hell is my turkey ribcage crown? And how’d this stuffing get in my pants?
Sigh. Back to work.
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