TURKEYS TAKE REVENGE ON HUMANS IN THANKSGIVING HORROR MOVIE ‘BASTER’
How did she get here? She doesn’t know. The last thing she remembers is making a late night trip to the grocery store, to get some last minute items for Thanksgiving. She put the bags in her trunk, reached up to shut it, then something slapped her mouth and nose. A wet cloth. The scent was sickly sweet, like nail polish. Before she could protest, she fell asleep. Then she woke up here.
Mrs. O’Malley sees a few items in the cell. (Is it a cell?) There’s a lumpy black bag and a remote speaker with a note reading ‘Turn Me On.’ She turns it on.
“Hello, Mrs. O’Malley,” says a garbled voice. “I want to play a game. GOBBLE! For the past 13 years, you’ve roasted a turkey every year for Thanksgiving. Now you will pay for your sins. GOBBLE! You are in an oven. In five minutes, the temperature will hit 425 degrees. GOBBLE! Your skin will turn red. Your blood vessels will expand. You will bleed. You will have trouble breathing. You will pass out. Blisters will spread on your body and lungs. You will die in excruciating pain. Then, when you are fully roasted, my family and I will eat you. GOBBLE!”
“OH MY GOD!” wails Mrs. O’Malley. A tear streams down her left check.
“Your god can’t save you now,” continues the garbled voice. “But there is one way you can escape. In the bag, there’s a pair of Gobble Gobble Gobble Goggles sunglasses, a baster, a carton of hearty vegetable broth, and 500 grams of chopped onions, carrots, apples and herbs. Put on the sunnies. Baste your ass with the hearty vegetable broth. Then shove all 500 grams of chopped onions, carrots, apples and herbs up your rectum. GOBBLE! If you succeed, I will turn off the oven. If you don’t, you die. You have five minutes. Starting now. GOBBLE!”
The ceiling light turns on, and a turkey appears in the window. Mrs. O’Malley screams. The turkey is holding a watch in its beak. It counts down: 5:00, 4:59, 4;58, 4:57..
Mrs. O’Malley shrieks in panic, and empties the black bag. The sunglasses, baster, vegetable broth, and 500 grams of chopped onions, carrots, apples and herbs tumble onto the floor. Whimpering, Mrs. O’Malley looks back and forth, from the turkey to the bag’s contents, over and over again, as if hoping that on the next turn they disappear. They do not. And she’s losing time. Fast.
With a sudden, grim determination, Mrs. O’Malley pulls her sundress off over her head and peels off her sweaty panties. “GOBBLE!” says the turkey. “GOBBLE!” The watch’s countdown marches on. 4:01, 4:00, 3:59, 3:58, 3:57.... Mrs. O’Malley puts on the stylish Thanksgiving-themed sunglasses and pumps the baster with hearty vegetable broth. In anticipation, her pasty 47-year-old ass twitches, shudders and clenches.
Cut to black. BASTER. Coming to theaters soon.
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