Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: (hums as she stuffs a plump human with her special stuffing. It was a recipe that has seen many Christmases such as this. The men folk in the den chewing the fat about the chief's new spears and outside the children played their little games.) La da da de daa da la la!
Caitlyn Cruncher: (runs into the kitchen wailing) Aunty! Aunty, Dwayne says you're going to serve me for tonight's dinner! I've been a good girl, Aunty, I don't deserve to die!
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: Of course you don't, dear. Dwayne was only teasing. Now be a good little girl and go ask Granma Bone to come into the kitchen.
Caitlyn Cruncher: Yes, ma'am.
(Caitlyn Cruncher skips out of the kitchen and Mrs. Bone-Cruncher resumes her humming and stuffing. Moments later, a hunched old woman limps into the kitchen. She takes a seat at the table and burps loudly. In contentment she kicks off her shoes and sighs.)
Granma Bone: It sure is good to have the family all together. Boy, it brings back memories. I remember when you were just a little girl like sweet Caitlyn. Do you remember how you used to fight with your sister to stir the stuffing?
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: I don't know why we fought so. I mean, whoever didn't get to stir got to lick the spoon.
Granma Bone: (leans in to see what Mrs. Bone-Cruncher is cooking and smiles) You making the old stuffing?
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: Yes ma'am. Nothing beats it.
Granma Bone: I'm sure glad one of you younguns feels that a-way. Ladies your age don't want to cook anymore. They want to pop those imported TV dinners into the microwave and not bother with doing things the right way.
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: You're right. And besides, I heard at the beauty parlor that the meat in those dinners isn't even a hundred percent human. They put crap like dog meat in it!
Granma Bone: Well, we don't have to worry about dog meat tonight. By the way, what kind of human are we having?
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: American.
Granma Bone: (falls into a coughing fit) WHAT? AN AMERICAN AT A BONE'S TABLE! WHY, I NEVER HEARD OF SUCH NONSENSE!
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: Americans are full of vitamins!
Granma Bone: Yeah and trans fats! Now I know why you've gained so much weight-you've been eating American!
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: (puts hand over stomach) I'm pregnant!
(A couple of men walk into the kitchen to see what's the ruckus about.)
Mr. Cruncher: Honey!
Granma Bone: You told him the secret ingredient?
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: (rushes to embrace husband) I meant to tell you in a more special way…yes.
Mr. Cruncher: (squeezes wife then backs off in concern for her condition) That's wonderful! I'm going to be a father!
(Mr. Cruncher runs into the den to tell his family. The second man and Mrs. Bone-Cruncher exchange silent yet significant stares. Granma Bone hoists her body out of her chair and makes a move for the American.)
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: Granma-Don't! That was expensive!
Granma Bone: Yeah? Well, it's unfit for my family to consume!
(Granma, in an uncharacteristic show of strength, lifts the corpse of a young male American and throws it on the floor.)
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: Granma! You have still have five seconds-pick it up right now!
Granma Bone: If you want it you, you gotta get it yourself!
Mrs. Bone-Cruncher: (scrambles to pick up corpse) Why are you ruining dinner the first time I have a party at my house?
Granma Bone: Because family is more important.
(At this point the entire family has squeezed into the doorway and Caitlyn is crying.)
Caitlyn: But I wanted a drumstick!
Dwayne: Like you could finish one. So where are the TV dinners?
(Granma Bone smacks her forehead in frustration. Mrs. Bone-Cruncher clutches her stomach and the only man in the kitchen catches her when she swoons. Then in a dazzling cloud of designer perfume a petite trendy woman walks into the kitchen with heavy grocery bags on her arm.)
Siena Bone: Lady's fingers anyone?