Being a man acculturated from a lot of different races, countries, and religions, I love to find reasons to kick my feet up and celebrate another holiday. I used to think I was alone in that thought, there aren't many people in the country of France that celebrate the American holiday, Thanksgiving.

However, how could I pass up the chance for turkey?

But this year was going to be different. I was going to go to a club and totally forget about the day that the Americans set aside for eating turkey and cranberries, watching football and drinking beer, and fights with family and in-laws. I was going to walk away from it, knowing that it was going to be hard to find an American family to latch onto for the holiday.

That all changed when Nikita knocked on my door two weeks ago.

She didn't look good as she stared at me. There were tears into her pretty blue eyes and as always, her face literally melted me. I could barely stand just looking at her without touching her.

It didn't take me long to know what was the source of her pain.

Correction, whom was the source of her pain.

"What did that dark angel do this time, plum popsicle?" I questioned as I found her dejected and filled with despair. She even tried to smile at the comment, but only managed to lift her frown a fraction.

"Did you know that I spent sometime in the States?" Nikita questioned as she slowly used her thin hands to pull back her blonde hair. I watched the hair tumble back behind her shoulders, shuddering at the image, as it was the highlight of many erotic dreams that Nikita was featured in. I smiled at Nikita and licked my lips.

"You did? I didn't know that sweet, Nikita," I responded as I looked behind my shoulder. She had awoken me from my sleep and I didn't know if I had another woman floating in my apartment or not. Nikita had probably seen enough naked women in her lifetime to not be shocked, but it was always a difficulty to explain to the women why I suddenly looked alive again around Nikita.

Women are jealous creatures.

"I did... I spent about a year and a half... and I actually stayed with a foster family when I was caught once..." Nikita explained and I looked around and walked out into the hallway, closing my door.

"Foster family? How, dear, did you get into that?" I questioned as I took her hands. I couldn't imagine living with a family that I didn't know. Still, in another country from where I was from.

"Ah... I got picked up for some petty shoplifting..." Nikita admitted as she dropped her blushing face. I laughed softly as I leaned against the hallway wall. She looked around. "But the family I was with... celebrated Thanksgiving..."

"Oh, please, popsicle... don't go there!" I cried out, knowing exactly what Nikita had on her mind. She tried to smile at me and I just knew.

It was too late.

"Michael told me I couldn't... so I have to have Thanksgiving, Mick!" Nikita whined out and I rolled my eyes. I knew that now that Nikita was calling in only one quarter of the flavors that I owed her. I continued to shake my head, picturing all the terrible American sitcoms had episodes of bad Thanksgiving stories. I couldn't bear to be part of this one.

"Oh, now... that is not necessarily so... You can get that man back for saying that other ways... why don't you come out dancing with me... We'll get some wine... go to a club... rub our bodies together..." I started to offer as I swayed my hips from side to side, noticing that I was barely tied into my bathrobe.

Nikita appeared not to notice.

"Mick.... You are invited... but I need your help!" Nikita cried out again as she touched my shoulders. I looked to her hands and started to wonder how long I could get her to keep her hands there. They felt so good there.

"Look, Popsicle... It's not a European holiday... Just let it go..." I tried as I carefully placed my hands over hers. She dropped her bottom lip and turned into a little puppy dog. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"But it is the best memory I have.... And I know you like good food, Mick..." Nikita pushed quickly, not moving her hands. Which was the point.

"I do like good food, Nikita... I just don't want to end up being involved in a Section One food fight when they all come to your apartment," I stated as I looked into her eyes. I expected her to roll her eyes. But there was a bonus.

Her hands were still on my shoulder.

"They all aren't coming to my apartment... Operations and Michael declined..."

"NO! NO! NO! Not that ice queen! No, Nikita... Have you lost your last brain cell?" I hollered, picturing Madeline in Nikita's nice and warm apartment. It just didn't feel right in my mind, I was sure that it would be even stranger if I was there.

"Mick... I could not invite her... She would take it personally... And she won't let a food fight happen!" Nikita claimed as she pulled her hands away from mine. I wanted to throw a fit, but I looked at Nikita as suddenly she did something better than touch my shoulders.

She grabbed my hands.

"Come on, Mick... I know you are the man for this job... I know that you can help me out here!" Nikita proclaimed and if I had noticed my heart and head expanded by three sizes. Nikita played me like she knew me. She buttered me up, making me feel like I was the only one for this job.

I fell for it. I fell for it hard.

"Ok... popsicle... Only this one time... And I'm not helping you with Christmas shopping!" I gave in and Nikita wrapped her arms around my body.

I could have died then and I would have been a very happy and a very aroused man.

"Thank you, Mick! I know you can do it!" Nikita said as she started to move back to her apartment. I narrowed my eyes and felt the opening of an abyss nearby me. I could just tell that I had said yes to something that was much bigger than I had thought about.

"What am I doing?" I questioned.

"Getting me a turkey! Thanks, Mick! I knew you would come through!" Nikita happily exclaimed as she opened up her door and bounced back into her apartment. I didn't even get the time to appreciate her curves bouncing about when I looked to my door.

Does anyone know how hard it is to get a turkey in France?

It's not easy.

I turned to go back into my apartment and turned the handle. It was locked.

And then I was locked outside my apartment, in nothing more than my bathrobe.

And that is probably the best part of this story.

~~

There was a store with a beautiful woman. That was were the problems begun.

I know, I should watch out for those beautiful women and I tried. But this one was stacked and her laugh was exactly like that of Nikita's that I have heard from time to time through the walls. I almost tripped over her as she stood at the door, being the manager of the store.

"Do you have any turkeys?" I questioned as I moved in closer to the woman. I looked at her nametag and smiled at her. "Vicki?" I added.

"You think you are a charmer, don't you..." Vicki remarked and I smiled and winked at her.

"Why deny that positive characteristic, right bird?" I questioned as I smiled and looked up her body. Definitely, she was a keeper, at least for a night or two. I even started to wonder if Nikita would allow me to bring a date for her Thanksgiving.

"Oh yes... you are a sweat talker... What did you want?" Vicki questioned as she lifted her finger and twirled a piece of hair with her finger. I started to undress her in my mind. I was sure that I was going to have a fun night. Maybe this time Nikita would be awakened from my moans and shouts. I was getting sick of the sexual gymnastics next door happening at all hours.

Sometimes I wondered that if they were vampires with the hours they kept.

"I'm looking for a turkey... for a friend... She can't leave her apartment... she is afraid of the crowds..." I stated, hoping to look really good in her eyes.

"Yes, we have turkeys... but they are only for humans," she remarked with stinging words. I wasn't a man to take those words as insults. Most beautiful women flirt that way, putting the man down until he shows what he is made for.

"Well... if I'm not human... I'll just take you... I think you have nice drumsticks..." I chuckled out as a rapidly moved my eyebrows up and down. I smiled at her and believed that I was making process.

"Jack... I need you at the front door..." Vicki responded as she picked up a walkie-talkie. I stepped back and grabbed my chest in mock horror.

"I just want a turkey..." I remarked as she narrowed her eyes. She looked around and rubbed her hands together.

"Well, you aren't getting one here... little bald man..." Vicki stated out with harsh words. I stared at her and watched as a man walked up behind her.

"Look... I just want to buy the turkey! This is a free country!" I shouted and Vicki looked at Jack and he grunted. I turned and tried to run, but found soon that my feet were moving, but the ground was standing still.

"This isn't good..." I muttered as I looked over my shoulder to see the chunk of my jacket that Jack had used to pull me up so I could look at his face. The man was like King Kong. He would definitely put some beef into Section One.

"The lady said no turkey..." Jack huffed out with simple words. I looked at his hand and then looked into his face.

"Look... Hulk Hogan... I just leave... I promise... please... just let me go...." I muttered as I started to get worried. There were only a few things in the world that would make me near the point of peeing my pants. One was Michael; the second one was now Jack, and his Andrea the Giant body.

"Beg," Vicki hissed as she stepped up and fluffed her hair. Now I knew her game. She liked to cause men to beg for mercy. I hate women like that. At least when they aren't up front about their game!

"Come on... I'm just a customer!" I stated as I tried to shrug my shoulders, but there wasn't much room left in my jacket to do it. Jack just had a good grip on me. Plus, I had run out of possible ways out of this.

Jack Dalton never had to deal with some genetic mutant man.

"Beg," Vicki hissed and I rolled my eyes up to the sky. I looked around, hoping for divine intervention, or better yet, Michael to arrive.

But he didn't.

I guess turkey hunting wasn't deemed dangerous enough for him to worry about me.

"Please let me down..." I whispered as I rolled my eyes.

"Louder," Vicki stated and I sighed heavily as Jack started to hug my lithe form. I could almost feel my ribs snapping. I'm sure that Jack had plans on how to split me like a wishbone.

"Please let me down..." I stated a bit firmer and watched as Vicki's eyes lit up. She was still beautiful.

"Say you are a turkey," Vicki stated and I shook my head. Jack pulled his arms tighter around me.

"Say it!"

"I'm a turkey!"

"Louder! I can't hear you!"

"I'm a turkey!"

"I still can't hear you!"

"I'm a bloody turkey!"

"What?"

"I'm a turkey! I'm a turkey!" I started to scream loudly as I started to flap my arms. I just wanted away from the brute with the big muscles that thought I was a peanut to be cracked.

"I don't know..." Vicki drawled out and I shook my head.

"I'm a turkey! GOBBLE... GOBBLE! I'm a turkey! I'm a turkey!" I shouted and Vicki smiled and nodded her head.

"Get out of here... and I'll be watching for you..." Vicki promised as she placed her hands on her hips. Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and I started to move quickly.

A beautiful woman with that man was just a freak of nature. It was definitely not natural!

I couldn't believe it when the week even got worse.

All over a bloody turkey!

~~

I used to consider myself a lucky man. I had a great body and a great laugh. I wasn't technically insight of Section One, just connected to it slightly. I hadn't killed anyone yet, and I had a good-looking next door neighbor, who on some days, I would consider my friend, if I weren't lusting over her.

But that was before the bloody turkey ordeal started. Somehow, that blonde bombshell got me stuck in a chase around European cities for a bloody turkey so she could cook it. I thought it would be easy, but time was running out. I had 48 hours before Thanksgiving; Nikita was breathing down my neck, and no turkey.

No one had turkeys left! Except the store that Vicki was from, and I was never going there again in my life, even if Nikita offered to be with me for one night and it was the only store open and I needed condoms. I would never even look at that store again.

But the time was almost gone and I couldn't let my sweet popsicle down. I walked down the street and swallowed.

Until that day I didn't realize that there was an underground market for turkeys in Europe.

But there was and I started to praise God above! I was saved and I didn't have to pay as much as in the open market. I considered myself lucky.

I will never use the word lucky again. I will never praise God again. And I sure in hell will never make a deal with a man in a black trench coat with greasy hair to have a turkey delivered to my doorstep the night before Thanksgiving.

For that time before the reality crashed around me, I was sure that I would please Nikita, my popsicle, like I wanted. I told myself of the good job I had done and cracked open some sweet wine and started to sip at it.

I started to play things in my head, knowing that I had gotten Nikita the turkey and Michael had told her to forget about the damn holiday. I understood Nikita, and Michael didn't. Do you see where these equations led up too?

In my mind, because I did the good deed, I was going to stay late for the nightcap with Nikita finally, and Nikita was going to shove Michael out the door!

I didn't realize that the turkey at that point was still part of the equation.

I opened the door, expecting the man that I had made the deal on the street with. Instead, I found some Joe Hick guy, holding a rope that was attached around the neck of a living turkey!

"Gobble gobble!" The turkey spoke out as I blinked my eyes. The farmer man rubbed his dirty hands in his flannel shirt as he handed me the rope and chomp at his chewing tobacco.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" he drawled out as he turned and moved down the hallway, leaving me with the turkey who bent its eat and started to peck at my shoes.

"Wait! You can't bloody leave me with this turkey!" I shouted out and the farmer only waved his hand and trotted down the hallway and then down the stairs. He was humming and laughing while I felt the shooting pain from that turkey pecking at my feet.

"Bloody, freakin' hell!" I screamed as I stepped back, pulling on the rope, seeing what was going to happen to me.

I knew my popsicle. She was going to string me up and stuff me for this one! I had seen her work some men over before, and her hands are more lethal than Chuck Norris's hands are. She knew how to make a man cry for weeks with one simple twist of her hands. OUCH!

"Gobble, gobble... gobble, gobble..." the turkey loudly continued and I looked to the walls, knowing that Nikita was on the other side. I could hear her with Michael and I was sure that she could hear me sometimes. This wasn't looking good and I was sure didn't know if I could hide this turkey for long.

The turkey seemed to be sniffing at the ground. Does anyone know how a turkey goes to the bathroom?

"Mick?" Nikita's voice sounded out at the door. I must have looked like a deer in front of approaching headlights. I was scared to say the least and I had a turkey that was trying to decide what to do next. I closed my eyes and started to form the swear words, trying to figure out what to do on my furniture.

Then, the flash came back to me, back to my man Jack Dalton, on the show Macguyver. He would stay calm and try to hide the turkey.

It was much easier to think of that than it was to do that.

Do you know how hard it is hide a bloody turkey that was obsessed with my couch?

"Gobble, gobble.... Gobble, gobble, gobble..." the turkey continued as I finally pushed it into the closet. I looked at the closed door and swallowed.

"Mick? Are you ok?" Nikita called out as she pounded at the door again. I swallowed and swiped at my hair and moved towards the door.

"Sugar, sweet, spice, popsicle, lollipop, twizzler stick..." I started to mutter, trying to get Nikita as far away from my apartment as possible. Why would this be the first night in the past two weeks that Michael didn't come home with her to play fluid swap with Michael?

"Mick... stop," Nikita snapped and I dropped my head down, feeling like I was the five year old about to have my knuckles rapped on by a hard ruler by a teacher. I slowly lifted my eyes.

"No Michael?" I questioned, hoping to direct the attention onto something that didn't involve the turkey.

"Gobble, gobble.." the turkey let out and I turned to look at the closet and then to look at Nikita with a smile.

"What is that noise?" Nikita questioned as she placed a hand on her hip. I blinked my eyes, hoping to play this off. I needed sometime to think about what to do, or rather, how to kill the turkey. I knew that calling Michael for help was almost out of question, but surely he would have the answer.

"What noise?" I questioned and Nikita pushed at her hair.

"The one from your closet," Nikita sternly spoke out and I felt the sweat flowing down my forehead. I looked at Nikita and started to move out of the apartment, hoping that one more door between Nikita and the turkey would make its noise silent.

"Oh, Nikita... don't worry about that..." I stated as I closed my door and smiled at Nikita. I took her small hand and started to lead her back to her own apartment.

She turned to her own door and looked at me. It wasn't her normal look. It was a look that she reserved for Michael when she rather kill him than kiss him. It was a look that chilled me to the bone, making me feel as if I wasn't going to be able to do my manly responsibilities for the next two weeks. She made me feel smaller than a door mouse or an ant.

I thought I was caught, but I wouldn't let her in.

"Ok... ok... I have a woman in the closet... we are playing a game!" I stated and Nikita slowly nodded her head and opened her door.

"So now is not a good time to go in and get my turkey?" Nikita questioned.

"NO! LORD NO!" I shouted and I stopped as I heard how loud I was when I shouted that. I swallowed and dropped my head slightly. "Sorry... it's not a good time..."

"What sort of game are you playing, Mick?" Nikita questioned as she tapped her fingers on her door. I looked at her and smiled.

"I don't ask what games you play with Michael... although I'm sure the one is a French maid thing... and another one is an Amazon blonde thing..." I stated as I smiled at her, seeing the hot blush cross her face quickly.

"MICK!" Nikita shouted and she rolled her eyes.

"Gobble, gobble..." the turkey was heard and Nikita rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Your girl is calling for you... I hope her drumsticks are good," Nikita hissed as she turned and slammed the door in my face. I looked to Nikita and finally allowed the breath out that I was holding. I turned and walked to my apartment.

The door was locked.

"Gobble, gobble" the turkey mocked me.

Damn this bloody holiday!

~~

I knew that I was in trouble as the turkey pecked at my face late into the morning. It cocked his head to the side and stared at me.

"Gobble gobble... gobble gobble..."

"Oh bloody hell, shut up!" I hollered as I tossed my pillow at it. I tried to hide, knowing that my sweet popsicle was going to be at my door any moment, wondering about this turkey I had promised her. I stayed up the night, hoping that the turkey would just keel over dead or something. I even tried to get it to drink some wine, but that didn't work.

I shot up out of the bed and moved to my dresser. Section One had given me the apartment, but they never said I had to stay there. I started to pull at my bags and pull my things together. If Nikita caught me with this living turkey, I was going to be the one that was stuffed for Thanksgiving dinner.

But it was already too late.

"Sugar... I came to help..." Walter stated as he knocked on Nikita's door. I froze again and looked around.

"Gobble gobble... gobble gobble..."

But I was frozen. I couldn't move.

"Walter... can you get the turkey from Mick... He was acting strange last night..." Nikita's cheerful voice echoed out as the door opened.

"He always acts strange, sugar... I don't know how you put up with him..." Walter groaned out with a chuckle. I lifted my eyebrows, about to take offense to those words when the turkey took advantage of my shock.

Men, never let a turkey too close to your jewels.

I allowed a bloody scream out and jumped away. I turned and saw the door open with Walter standing there. I knew that Nikita couldn't be far away. I stared at him and knew I was caught.

"Sugar... I don't want you to see this..." Walter said as he slowly closed the door partially. I blinked my eyes and if I didn't have tears running down my face and the fact that I was sure I was never going to walk again, or procreate, I would have smiled at Walter's kind gesture.

"Ok... but hurry... that turkey needs to get in the oven..." Nikita stated and Walter smiled and backed his way into my apartment. He slammed the door and started to laugh.

"I say you have a problem..." Walter finally was able to state and I shook my head, unable to speak, but hating Walter's words. "Did the turkey feel you up?"

"Walter! I have a problem!" I stated, hearing my high-pitched voice. The voice didn't help the situation as Walter started to laugh again, holding his stomach and if he had a beard, he would have looked like a balding Santa Claus.

"I think you have a problem... When were you going to tell Nikita about.. about... about this..." Walter said as he bent down and looked at the turkey.

The turkey liked Walter. It didn't move to peck his face, toes, or other vital organs.

"I'm not! I'm going to kill it!" I hissed as I moved to the couch. I didn't know what was so funny as Walter stood up from petting the turkey. He was treating it like a damn pet!

"You are? How?" Walter questioned as he moved to get me some ice.

The ice didn't help.

"I don't know.... But popsicle... if I don't give her a turkey and soon.. she is going to be hurt..." I whined as I looked to the wall. I slowly turned to look at Walter, but he shook his head with his hands up in the air.

"I'm not killing it!" Walter stated and I looked to the turkey and swallowed.

"Fine... so we get to watch Nikita cry all day... Is that what you want?" I questioned looked at Walter. He looked to the turkey and then to the wall, knowing Nikita was on the other side.

I know that I can't stand watching Nikita cry. But I also knew that Walter couldn't stand watching Nikita cry.

Walter pulled out his phone and I wrinkled an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?" I questioned and Walter looked at the turkey and swallowed.

"There is only one man for this job..." Walter stated and I raised my eyebrows. "Hello, Michael?"

~~

The knock was ominous, but at least now I had gathered back a normal voice. I looked as the turkey approached me, hopefully not for more target practice. Walter opened the door and Michael entered and looked around as he pulled off his gloves.

"You might want to keep those on..." Walter whispered and Michael turned his head and stared at Walter. He was like a man of stone, no, ice. He was too calm and cool.

"Gobble gobble... gobble gobble..." The turkey started to chatter quickly.

"What is that?" Michael hissed as he dropped his head and looked at the nuance bird. I tried to smile at Michael and stand up. He looked at me and I felt the force of his stare. I fell back onto the couch.

"That's why we need you..." Walter stated and Michael again, stared at Walter. He was a smart man. Michael looked to the turkey and huffed. "I'm not killing the bird, Walter."

"Michael... Nikita needs a turkey for Thanksgiving!" Walter proclaimed and Michael looked to it and pulled off his gloves.

"I would do anything for Nikita.. but I'm not killing the bird," Michael stated coldly. I looked around and shook my head.

"Look, Michael... I know you don't like me much... but I need your help..."

"You have called me the angel of death, Mick," Michael hissed back at me and I dropped my head. So now I knew that Michael didn't much like me.

"Ah.. Michael.. that was a misunderstanding... honestly... I said that for show..." I stuttered, hoping to do anything to get this turkey's head chopped off so Nikita could just stuff the damn thing.

"You called me the devil's second hand," Michael hissed back and I dropped my head again. I wasn't winning in this one.

"Michael... do you want to watch Nikita cry all day?" Walter finally questioned and Michael looked at the turkey and then to the wall that Nikita was standing behind.

"Grab the bird," Michael ordered.

Walter reached for it, but it got away.

"Gobble gobble..."

"Get the bird, Mick!"

"Gobble gobble..." the turkey said as it started to reach for my jewels again. I jumped back, stumbled over the table and fell.

"Gobble gobble..."

"Michael... it's going towards you..." Walter shouted as he pulled me up and slapped my back. Michael squatted and opened his hands, ready to grab the bird.

"Come here turkey..." Michael whispered and the turkey cocked his head and started to flap around.

"Gobble gobble..."

"Bloody hell!" I shouted as the bird lifted off the ground.

"What?"

"Just grab it!" Michael shouted. Walter looked at Michael and shook his head.

"Gobble gobble..."

"Gobble gobble..."

"Michael, do something!" I shouted and Michael pulled out his gun and aimed.

"Michael! Sugar will see the bullet hole in the turkey! We don't want to waste the meat!" Walter said and Michael looked at him and cocked the safety off.

"Do you have a better way to kill the bird!"

"IT'S COMING TOWARDS ME!!!" I shouted as it turned. I dropped to the ground and covered my head.

"Gobble gobble.. gobble gobble... gobble gobble!"

"What is going on in here?" Nikita's voice shouted. I tried to lift my head, but the turkey had landed on my back. I heard Michael slip the safety back on the gun and Nikita's gasp.

"Get it off me!" I cried. It dropped its head and pecked at my head.

"I should have known... I should have known..." Nikita muttered out as she slammed her way out of my apartment.

~~

"Nikita, are you sure you don't want any pizza?" Walter called out, looking towards the bed that Nikita still stayed in. Her face was in the pillow.

The pizza was the main dish, but the other food had turned out well. Nikita even finished it all once it was determined that the turkey would live to peck another day. But she looked at the table as Madeline and Birkoff walked in and stormed off to the bedroom.

No one told Madeline or Birkoff what happened and Nikita stayed in her room.

"Do I have to take you to the white room Walter to find out what happened?" Madeline questioned and Walter looked to the stairs and dropped his head.

"It was Mick's fault," Walter stated and I turned quickly, trying to get away from the table.

"Gobble gobble... gobble gobble..." the turkey called out from my apartment and Madeline narrowed her eyes.

"I hope for Christmas you remember to get a frozen turkey," Madeline instructed and I dropped my head.

I knew for Christmas I better be doing more than getting a frozen turkey. I better be getting Nikita some diamonds to make up for this mess.

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