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The Turkey Goblin

The Turkey Goblin

Dear Diary,

Today was THE WORST THANKSGIVING EVER! Why? The Turkey Goblin, that’s why. The whole day was ruined. Grandma hasn’t stopped crying. Mom will not talk to Dad. Auntie Emma said she never wants to look at gravy ever again. I’m still trying to get all the cranberry sauce out of my hair, nose, and ears. Grandpa isn’t awake yet, but, man, when he does… 

But before I get too far ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning. We were all at my Grandma and Grandpa’s house. As soon as we walked through the door, we were greeted by the scents of the season. Rolls. Cranberry Sauce. Gravy. Green beans. Stuffing. Sweet potato casserole. Pumpkin Pie. Grandma and Auntie Emma were busy making all of it, but, most importantly, they were cooking the turkey. Mom, Dad, and I ate only toast for breakfast and had water and cheese for lunch just so we’d have tons of room for turkey. Needless to say, we were looking forward to dinner.

Everything was going perfectly. Dad and Grandpa stayed in the den dozing. They went in to watch football, but they both always fell asleep before halftime. I was helping Auntie Emma mash potatoes. Grandma was basting the turkey. Mom was opening the back door to cool the kitchen down. 

Big mistake.

Grandma shouted, “Close that door, girl! Did you loose all your common sense?”

The Turkey Goblin by  Anne Cook

The Turkey Goblin by Anne Cook

Mom looked at her for a second until something came to her. Before she could get back to the door, there stood an ugly little man. His arms and legs were long and skinny, but his belly was fat and hairy. He had pointy ears and sharp teeth. At first I thought he had a bushy mustache, but when lifted his nose to sniff the air, I saw that it was his nose hairs. The house was silent, except for the sniffs. Oh, and my Dad and Grandpa’s snores from down the hall.

“Turkey Goblin,” Grandma said quietly through grit teeth. The Goblin took two steps forward, and Grandma slammed the oven shut, “I’ll give you one chance, Goblin. Turn around and walk away. There’s no need in you getting hurt.”

The Goblin sneered. He hopped on the kitchen table and started kicking all of Grandma’s fancy dishes onto the floor with his big, hairy feet. He stomped and danced in little circles as he sang:

Gobble, gobble, gobble. I’m the Turkey Goblin. 

Gobble, gobble, gobble. I’ll ruin your day. 

Gobble, gobble, gobble. I’ll eat your bird, 

And then I’ll wobble, wobble, wobble on my way!

“No!” Grandma screamed. She looked at Mom, who clinched her fists and nodded, and then she turned to Auntie Emma who took a karate stance. 

First, Auntie Emma kicked the leg of the table, breaking it. The Goblin lost his balance and tumbled down head first into a puddle of brown gravy. He sucked it all up and sprung up. Emma punched him so hard in the stomach that all the gravy came rushing out his nose and all over her face. 

He danced around her and headed towards Mom. She grabbed a wooden spoon and bonked him on the nose with it. The Turkey Goblin stopped and rubbed his nose. His big mouth bent into a frown. 

Mom took a step back, “Sorry, but, c’mon, you had that coming.”

The Goblin’s face turned bright red as he growled. He took a slow step towards Mom.

“Dear!” she screamed, “I need your help in here!’

“Mmmhmm. Be in there in a sec,” my Dad groaned and then resumed his snore-fest with Grandpa.

The Goblin smiled. I don’t know what he had planned for her, but I wasn’t about to find out. I grabbed my glass of ice water and dumped it on his bald head. He turned and looked at me. I smiled and gave him a little wave. I tried to run away, but i was so scared I couldn’t move. 

Mom whacked him with the spoon until it broke. He snorted and blew some leftover snotty gravy in her face. Grandma was still standing in front of the oven, protecting the turkey. We just watched as the Turkey Goblin opened the fridge door and took out the big bowl of cranberry sauce. He walked back to me and lift the bowl high over my head. Before my brain could tell my feet to move, be dumped the bowl of sauce on my head. He rubbed into my hair, ears, nose, and mouth. He licked his fingers as he made his way to the oven. 

Since I had cranberries lodged in my ears, I can’t hear what Grandma, but I saw everything. She stepped aside and opened the oven door for the Turkey Goblin, who wasted no time. He reached into the oven with both hands and grabbed the turkey. Then, faster than a blink, Grandma slammed the oven door on the Turkey Goblin’s hands. I couldn’t hear his yell, but I could tell by the look on his face, it hurt. A lot. He stomped his feet and spun around, blowing his swollen fingers. Grandma pushed the crying goblin to the door. She opened it with one hand and shoved him out the door, but the Goblin grabbed Grandma by the wrist and threw her outside. He slammed the door and bolted to the oven. 

By the time I got to him it was too late. The only thing left in the roasting pan was the Turkey Goblin’s drool. He ate every bite of our bird, bones and all. He licked his fingers as he strutted towards the front door. Before he left, he gave me a little wink and sang:

Gobble, gobble, gobble. I’m the Turkey Goblin. 

Gobble, gobble, gobble. I ruined your day. 

Gobble, gobble, gobble. I ate up your bird, 

And now I wobble, wobble, wobble on my way!

Just as the front door closed, Grandma came in the backdoor, filthy and panting. She was furious, but her face turned so sad when she saw the empty pan and what was left of her kitchen. She just sat down cross-legged on the floor with her hands on her face and cried. 

Mom finally got all the booger-gravy off her face and marched straight into the den. I couldn’t hear what she said to my Dad, and that’s probably a good thing. Of all the things my Grandpa slept through, today, I can’t believe he actually stayed asleep during that.

Anyways, I’m home now. We offered to help Grandma clean, but she said that would be Grandpa’s job. Hopefully, he’s done by New Year’s. I’m waiting to take a shower. Mom’s been in there for over an hour. She threw out her loofa and grabbed a scouring pad from the kitchen, so I think I’ll be waiting a little while longer. Oh well. Happy Thanksgiving!

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