Timmy: Pass the cranberries, ma.
Ma: Here you are, son.
Timmy: (drops bowl) Oops!
Ma: Oh, heavens. You dropped that cranberry sauce right on the carpet!
Timmy: It’s not my fault! Bobby was distracting me!
Bobby: Was not!
Timmy: Was too!
Bobby: Was not!
Timmy: Was too!
Bobby: Was not!
Pa: Now quiet, the both of you two. This is supposed to be a NICE Thanksgiving.
Bobby: Eh, screw that.
Pa: WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME!
Ma: Stop! Frank, don’t hit him! Pleeease! WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN EVERY YEAR?
(knock on the door)
Ma: Who’s that?
(door flies open)
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