A fictional Thanksgiving

(written by lawrence krubner, however indented passages are often quotes). You can contact lawrence at: lawrence@krubner.com, or follow me on Twitter.

I went to a writer’s workshop where we we were given the following scenario: I live in 2 story house and I sleep upstairs. I invite people over for Thanksgiving Dinner. After dinner I say goodbye to people and go to sleep. I wake up middle night and go downstairs. 5 people, heavily armed with guns, are in a Mexican standoff.

We were given 10 minutes to write. I couldn’t think of anything original so I went with a riff that I’ve used before:


The heavy food of Thanksgiving dragged me deep into sleep. If undisturbed, I might have slept till the next afternoon. But then someone was in bed next to me. I turned on a light.

My friend Clint was laying there.

“Why did you turn on the light?” he asked annoyed.

“What the hell are you doing in my bed?” I demanded.

“I was thinking!” he exclaimed, “Until you interrupted me!”

“Why the hell do you need to think here?”

He answered as if I was stupid: “I need to think everywhere! I don’t know how to not think!”

“Then go think somewhere else!” I shouted.

“Lawrence, do you realize in the entire history of rock and roll, there have only been 6 drum solos where the drummer kept to the main beat for the entire solo?”


“Only six.”

“Which six?” I asked.

“That’s the problem. I wanted to include the Beach Boys but no agreed with me.”

“Everyone knows the beat changes in an irregular pattern in a Beach Boys song.”

“I didn’t know it,” he admitted. “I may have offended some people.”

“Go apologize in the morning, but get the hell out of here now.”

“I can’t. They have guns.”



I got out of bed and went downstairs. My friend Jimmy, who played drums, had 2 Glocks, aimed at 2 other men.

“Nobody,” he screamed. “Nobody thinks the Beach Boys ever stuck to the beat!”