Who: Pyro, ota What: Thanksgiving dinner. When: Thursday night Where: Omega Base Kitchen Warnings: Normal Pyro language.
Or at least it sorta looked like one. John had settled in to eat his lovely Hungry Man turkey dinner, a beer sitting on the counter next to him as he leans against it, holding the plastic tray with one hand, eating with the other. Thanksgiving wasn't really his thing, in all honesty... too... happy touchy feely. Besides, what did he have to be thankful for, other than the ability to french fry people these days. But all the advertising had done him in, and the turkey had really been calling to him. For lack of desire to actually go out and find something, he had resorted to his skill in microwave direction following to satisfy his poultry craving.