The Extras (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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taxonomites2012-11-22 07:23 am
theextras) wrote in taxonomites2012-11-22 07:23 am
The Giving of Thanks, aka the bodyswap wrap~
As dawn breaks on Thanksgiving morning, one or two things are different about the Taxon we all know and love.
Most notably, the streets are positively littered with, yes, you guessed it, turkeys.
Live. Turkeys.
Also notable is the fancy, ginormous T-Rex skeleton on display right outside the Sanctuary. Isn't that a nice thing to greet the newcomers with? It's got a plaque and everything!
Even more notable, because all good things come in threes, or so the aliens have newly discovered: just in time for Thanksgiving dinner, all the tablets in the city light up with a cheerful, hamster shaped hologram. The hamster wears Appropriate Festive Gear.
"Happy Thanksgiving, citizens! Aren't you glad to be alive this time of year? Isn't Thanksgiving a wonderful holiday? Yes it is! Say it with me!"
Crickets may chirp, insults may be thrown in its face, but the happy hamster goes on. "In honor of the bond forged between the Puritans and their new found friends, the Indians*, you will all find a dream catcher by your bedside tonight. And remember the old Indian proverb, Never speak of another before you have walked two hundred miles in her moccasins. Isn't that nice?"
Look at its beady, beaming eyes full of holiday cheer. "When you go to sleep tonight, hang the dream catcher above your head and think of all the things you are grateful for. What have you learned from your neighbour's moccasins? Do they pinch? Dream yourself-- back to yourself.
"Make it a good one! Be thankful!"
And that, as they say, is that. The hologram blinks out of existence. Somewhere out there, in the dark, lamp lit streets, an Extra chases down the last of the turkeys.
All is quiet. Shh. Shh. All is well.
For now.
* It must be noted that the aliens have a) a poor grasp of history, and b) no idea what political correctness is.
Most notably, the streets are positively littered with, yes, you guessed it, turkeys.
Live. Turkeys.
Also notable is the fancy, ginormous T-Rex skeleton on display right outside the Sanctuary. Isn't that a nice thing to greet the newcomers with? It's got a plaque and everything!
Even more notable, because all good things come in threes, or so the aliens have newly discovered: just in time for Thanksgiving dinner, all the tablets in the city light up with a cheerful, hamster shaped hologram. The hamster wears Appropriate Festive Gear.
"Happy Thanksgiving, citizens! Aren't you glad to be alive this time of year? Isn't Thanksgiving a wonderful holiday? Yes it is! Say it with me!"
Crickets may chirp, insults may be thrown in its face, but the happy hamster goes on. "In honor of the bond forged between the Puritans and their new found friends, the Indians*, you will all find a dream catcher by your bedside tonight. And remember the old Indian proverb, Never speak of another before you have walked two hundred miles in her moccasins. Isn't that nice?"
Look at its beady, beaming eyes full of holiday cheer. "When you go to sleep tonight, hang the dream catcher above your head and think of all the things you are grateful for. What have you learned from your neighbour's moccasins? Do they pinch? Dream yourself-- back to yourself.
"Make it a good one! Be thankful!"
And that, as they say, is that. The hologram blinks out of existence. Somewhere out there, in the dark, lamp lit streets, an Extra chases down the last of the turkeys.
All is quiet. Shh. Shh. All is well.
For now.
* It must be noted that the aliens have a) a poor grasp of history, and b) no idea what political correctness is.