You open your fridge and there, in the horror, is all of your spoiled thanksgiving feast. Turkey, growing mold. Mashed potatoes, growing eyes. Cranberry sauce doing whatever cranberries do when they go bad.
You go to a hotel and there's a stranger waiting inside. You take handfuls of expired foods and slap him across the face. "You don't like my cooking?" Fists full of mashed potatoes, thrown across the room, "You think your mother in law can do it better?" Cranberries flung off the end of a spoon. "You're not even worthy of whatever the hell these canned red veggies are when they're good, you asshole."
And then you look at the mess you've created and leave peacefully with no further contact. All of your holiday stress gone.
I'd like to reiterate this is females only, AND IT BETTER BE HOME COOKED FOOD BECAUSE I'LL KNOW DAMN WELL IF YOU BRING BOXED MASHED POTATOES.
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