Well, as you may or may not have noticed, it was Thanksgiving last week.However, we were still reeling from Clark's unfortunate moment of incarceration and his troubles with Henri Petit and the now-disgraced Officer Sixpack Bicep and were too tired to do anything about Turkey Day Dinner. However, the Unbelievababes were on hand, saw how down in the dumps we were and pulled out all the stops to make our Thanksgiving a pleasant and happy one.
It was unseasonably warm on Thursday here in Stiletto Flats, so Barby Kewribbs whipped out the charcoal grill and got some spatchcocked pheasant starters sizzling and getting our mouths watering.
Then the beautiful Sue Donymm surprised us with some whoppers, glistening and moist and ready to be tasted. Turkeys, that is.
There were some lovely side dishes prepared by the delightful Jill O'Salad...
and the groaning board was a sight to behold.
The whole thing was so enjoyable that we completely forgot about all that unpleasantness with Petit.
Well, almost completely. Clark spent a couple hours playing his newest favourite video game - The Unbelievables (in stores just in time for Christmas, folks!) - specifically the special level named Clark's Defenestration Station where you can relive again and again some of Clark's best out-of-window-kicking-and-chuckings (see below).
Ciao!
Here's what we did about it:
Officer Sixpack Bicep of the Stiletto Flats Police Department appeared to be on steroids. Steroids, as it turns out, are a big fat no-no in the "illegal substance statute" that falls under several Stiletto Flats penal codes. So, putting in motion a rumor that Officer Bicep might be partaking of such to some of the higher ups in the department?
Boom. Instant dismissal of charges.
Which was almost as instant as the dismissal of Officer Sixpack Bicep of the Stiletto Flats Police Department. See you later Officer Bicep! And your nepotism-laced ways, too. Pretty easy stuff.
The bigger remaining question ("Why?") was rather simple to answer: It was because of Petit and his vindictive nature.
Naturally,
once Clark was sprung from the slammer, he went directly to the little
twit's hangout and unceremoniously did this to him:
And (while it wasn't exactly politically correct or even nice to have done so) Jeff and I watched in admiration as Petit eventually went kersplat on the pavement below.
