2020-11-27 - A Very TIBS Thanksgiving

Vic's father has made it into town for Thanksgiving. He's staying at a Bed and Breakfast just outside of town at his daughter's absolute insistence, since her house isn't move-in ready yet. It's also not 'cooking a Thanksgiving meal' ready, so they are going out for their holiday meal and, being the wise souls they are, celebrating before the day itself.

Vic is wearing an actual dress. It's a cute, grey, mock-turtleneck sweater dress that falls to mid-thigh, over black tights, with calf high black boots. A silver ribbon belts the dress at the waist. Her hair is even done for a change, rather than left to its own devices.

Walter Grey is in a weathered olive-colored denim jacket over a red and white checked button down shirt and jeans, with work boots. He looks to be in his 60s, with steely silver hair and sharp blue eyes like his daughter. There is a definite family resemblance there.

The pair enter the Twofer with smiles and laughter between them and those who know Vic only since she's been in Gray Harbor have likely never seen her this alive, or this happy. This man raised her on his own after her mother died when she was eight, and she clearly believes the sun rises and sets with him. The former Army Sergeant has his hands stuffed in his pockets as he strolls alongside Vic. The blonde waves a hand towards her boss(es) with a grin.

The community part of the day was long, fun but very crowded and frankly a little exhausting which might explain why Easton is currently slumped in a chair with just the black strap of a pilgrim around his head. His usual black dress shirt is unbuttoned down a few at this point, with a tanktop under. He has a massive open faced turkey sandwich in front of him with a large (but reasonably-sized) glass of whiskey by it.

"If I get any more relaxed I'm going to unbuckle the leg and nobody needs to see that."

As if everyone assembled hasn't seen far, far more of Easton than his stumpy leg.

Bennie is behind the bar in a headdress made of red and orange feathers cut out of construction paper and a brown suede dress she found and added fringe and bright turquoise beads to, the one time of year dressing as an Indian isn't cultural appropriation it's a celebration! She's got a Very Large knife in hand trying to decide the best way to slice a pumpkin pie.

"Did you remember to hollow it out, because I made dessert and I don't know where you're going to put it."

Vic and her father get a jovial wave, which might look like a psychotic blonde Indian is going to scalp them. Happy Thanksgiving!

Itzhak brought his (new!) violin and his boyfriend. He's dressed up a little, wearing a slimly-tailored waistcoat of nubbly gray silk, a crisp black button-down worn open at the throat and rolled to the elbow, and fitted raw denim jeans so deeply saturated with indigo that they seem black. And rainbow-soled, rainbow-laced black Converse, because he not-so-secretly believes gaying up the Twofer called Easton back from the Veil.

"Hey!" he calls, swaggering on in, ink and scars on display, violin case over his shoulder, lopsided grin on his face.

It's a day or two before the intrepid acting Chief of Police goes mysteriously missing, and it seems he's determined to enjoy this particular American tradition to its fullest tonight. Deep fried turkey? Don't mind if he do. He's arrived with Itzhak Rosencrantz, hands shoved into the pockets of a battered denim jacket, and something resembling an actual smile on his face. Maybe the remnants of some filthy joke the fiddler was telling him as they wandered inside. "Get you a drink," he murmurs, elbowing the taller man and veering off toward the bar while Itzhak swaggers off (like he does) to go play social butterfly for a while.

The Greys approach where Bennie and Easton are, and Vic gestures to the older man by her side. "Easton Marshall, Bennie Oakes, meet my father, Walt Grey, former Army Sergeant who won't tell me what he did in the military. Also, bar owner in Portland. Dad, these are my bosses here at the Twofer."

Walt flashes a bright smile to the pair. "Nice place you got here," he says, in a voice that resonates with gruffness. He looks around and lets out a loud, "I'll be damned!" when he spots Ruiz. "De la Vega! How the hell have you been? Vic said you were here in town but I didn't believe her."

Vic points her index fingers at her dad and mouths towards Itzhak and Ruiz, "He's here!!!" all excited.

Easton straightens up in his chair and nods to Vic's dad, "Nice to meet you Sergeant." He looks at Vic and then over his shoulder at Bennie, like 'are you seeing this?' with the smiling and the general happiness. And then there is De La Vega... also smiling. Must be the lingering effects of the weed cloud.

"Gunny! Rosencratz!" Easton calls out to them and at this points stands to actually greet them despite the fact that he's been dying to get off his feet for hours now. He thumps De La Vega on the shoulder but grabs Itzhak into a awkward low center of gravity hug. "Glad you guys could make it. Happy turkey day."

Bennie doesn't know much about actual family, only those she's adopted into her tribe, much less meeting someone's father. So this leads her into doing an awkward little curtsey coupled with a beaming smile that's ten watts over a power outage. "Hi!" She manages to squeak out in a bit of a squee before raising her voice as Ruiz and Itzhak drift in.

Bennie says, "So who wants my pie?"

"Whiskey sour, please?" Itzhak says to Ruiz, elbowing him back in lieu of smooching him on the cheek or anything licentious like that as he heads off. (He was totally telling him a dirty joke, the one about the rabbi's wife.) Easton, he bends over to hug, holding back his violin case with one arm so it doesn't swing around and thwap him. "Marshall, how the hell are ya." Vic gets an upnod, and her father a surprised look, which then goes back to Vic. He didn't know Vic was bringing relatives! And a relative who knows Ruiz! He seems to agree with Bennie's squeaking even if he's too much on his dignity to squeak too.

Ruiz does a little double-take at the familiar voice that greets him from somewhere off to the side. It's about the last one he expected here tonight, and the startlement shows briefly in the deer-in-headlights look he gives Walt. Before turning, and favouring the man with one of his awkward, bashful little smiles. "Marshall," gets a slap to his back in return on his way by in fulfillment of the Marine code, and then he steps closer to offer a big hand to Walt, inked up to the backs of the battered, scraped up knuckles. If it's accepted, the man's hauled in and clapped on the back heartily as well. "Busy as shit, the hell do you think?" Surely he's heard the news about de la Vega being 'promoted' to Chief temporarily.

Don't worry, Itzhak, Walt was born and bred in Portland, he gives zero craps what sort of genitalia people prefer as long as they are happy. Vic may even suspect her dad of being more than friends with one of his regulars at the bar. Not that Walter would EVER tell his daughter any of that. They seem to share a truce of not inquiring of each others' love lives.

The man wraps Ruiz in a manly hug, slapping the cop on the back heartily. "My tequila sales are half of what they were when you were in Portland, coincidence?" he asks with a grin. "Heard you're buried under paperwork these days, my condolences."

"I'll have some of everything," Vic declares. "I can't even cook in my kitchen yet, so this is our holiday meal," she confesses.

"You wouldn't believe the house she bought," Walt snorts at Easton and Bennie. That is where she gets it from. "It looks like the 70s threw up in it." He offers a hand to Itzhak, "Walt Grey. You look like a musician. The violinist mechanic my daughter spoke of I'm guessing?"

"I do!" Easton, totally unphased by the phrasing of Bennie's question readily volunteers himself. He also offers to the others, "Sorry but it's a help yourself thing. We're both wiped from the day.." He glances over at Bennie who looks just as chipper as ever and amends, "I think?"

He laughs at Walt's comment about the tequila, "Yeah, sorry not sorry sir but I think I'm the beneficiary of your loss. He single handedly sees us through the non-tourist season."

Itzhak clasps Walt's hand; his own is calloused and scarred, weird lightning-bolt fractal figure lacing from his knuckles all the way up his forearm. Clearly there's more under his shirt, too. Same for the pomegranate tattoos on his left forearm. And he's got that prison ink on his knuckles: STAY and DOWN. "How's by ya, Walt. Itzhak Rosencrantz." He grins wryly because yeah, he really does look like a musician--a rough-looking ex-con in some pretty clothes, too. "Yeah, brought my fiddle. Any requests?" Then he's going to unsling his violin case and do some of that serve-yourself stuff because he's starving.

Bennie waves the knife towards the layout of food, "Oh gosh, please help yourself. We carved two more turkeys, so please stuff yourself silly and then take left overs." She then gives Easton a sly smile and portions him off some pumpkin, going to add a dollop of whipped cream on the top but not before she squeezes the bottle over her open mouth and leaves a mound on her tongue. "Totally wiped." Bennie confirms as she foams at the mouth.

"Ah, está exagerando," Javier scoffs, going so far as to take a swipe at the top of Easton's head with the flat of his hand. Which he can totally do, because the guy is short. Then he goes to sling out of his jacket and throw it over the back of a chair, giving Walt a chin up as he asks, "How long's it been now, huh? Four years?" He's aged pretty well, de la Vega, considering what he puts his body through. No grey on his head yet, though plenty in his beard. There's a chuckle as Itzhak offers to play, and a conspiratorial murmur of, "He's good. Give him something hard." Phrasing there, Javier.

Vic moves to put plates together for herself and her dad, piling them high. The Greys do not shirk away from eating, not one bit. She chuckles listening to Walt and Ruiz, shaking her head.

"I'm just happy Vickie has people here. A father worries," Walt explains, getting an eyeroll for his trouble from his daughter. Like anyone who knows Vic would worry about her being able to take care of herself. "Four years, about that yeah," he notes to Ruiz. "Seems like a million years though." He looks at his daughter's back with a grimace. She hasn't been home in a long time. Then the hard request. "Phrasing." He chimes, "Dust in the Wind by Kansas?" Well it has a violin solo in it. "Sorry, I don't know much fiddle music outside of the Devil Went Down to Georgia, and I imagine you've been asked to play that a million times."

He settles at a table with Vic to tuck into the food. His kid is already stuffing her face, hoping her father doesn't start asking awkward questions like how she's living off tips and why Ruiz hasn't hired her onto the police force.

The slap up the back of his head (Gibbsmack!) sends Easton's pilgrim band flying off but he just laughs about it. "Yes. Vickie has great people here." Easton grins and looks over at Vic, thoroughly enjoying calling her Vickie just now. And then there's Ruiz's comment and Easton shakes his head, "I tried, but he fuckin' ditched me for a cranky old Mexicano." He raises his eyebrows at Itzhak, about to say more when the gobbles start up. He looks around, the smile sliding off his face.

"Grey I hoped you prepped yer pops for some good ol' Gray Harbor skullfuckery." Okay, that was supposed to be a mix of skullduggery and fuckery but boy talk about phrasing. Oy.

"Skullduggery. And fuckery. Not.. not that." Easton has to correct himself immediately.

"Oh my god, babe, did you buy a live turkey?" Of course Bennie is going to cast eyes on Easton as if he planned some elaborate prank and didn't have the nerve to include her on the joke.

Itzhak promptly turns red when Ruiz suggests Walt give him something hard. He makes a face at him. A red face. "Make you a plate, whaddaya want?" he says to his boyfriend, and then something pulls his rainbow shoelace and he jerks backwards with the reflexes of the New Yorker to whom anything might be a gigantic rat. "Gevalt what the fuck was that!" ....oh, apparently, that is ghost turkeys.

Devil Went Down to Georgia seems to suit Javier just fine. He's settling into his seat, awaiting his incipient arrival of tequila and whiskey sour, and sliding Easton a bit of a look for his insinuation about sleeping with Itzhak, when that noise starts up. Gobble-what-now? Scowling, he shoves out of his chair and goes to take a swing at the ghost bird thing pecking at Itzhak's shoelaces. "Don't think I'm hungry, after all," he grunts at the musician.

Vic looks up at the gobbling, then over at Easton. She gives a curt headshake at him and a dirty look, she heard that use of her name. Her dad has a teensy bit of glimmer, but it's totally untrained, and where they lived in Portland wasn't super close to the underground where the thin spot is. "Uh, not really. Dad, weird shit happens here. Remember the weird shit we ran into that one time we walked around town looking at the Christmas lights in '95?"

Walter frowns. "Oh. THAT weird shit. This place has it too?"

"It has it times a thousand."

"Well shit." He stands up and brushes off his jeans, before Gibbs-smacking his kid upside the back of her head. Clearly he and Ruiz got along well. "If you told me that I'd have brought my piece."

Vic ows and grunts. "I was hoping it wouldn't be a problem while we were AT DINNER, dad." And she brought her guns. Sort of. They're in the portable hole in her purse which only she can reach into. Which she is going for when the ghost of Tom Turkey hops up on the table. "Oh for fucks' sake!" her and her father declare in unison.

"I didn't buy a live bird Benz." Easton informs her, not unkindly but firmly. And by the time the ghost birds have started to appear he's shaking his head. He makes a point of taking another bite of his sandwich before he gets up from the table, still chewing. He gives a Mr. Grey a look when he mentions bringing his piece as if to say 'Soldier, please.' The next thing you know guns are popping up for Easton and Bennie from behind the bar. Easton grabs his Glock M19 out of the air as if some unseen person had tossed it to him and says, "I have more if we need it but heads up, shooting ghosts doesn't work so great." And he should know, he's shot multiple, multiple ghosts before finally coming to this conclusion. But it doesn't stop him from wanting a gun anyway, just in case.

"Anyone else need a piece?"

"Look, the last time you shot a ghost in this bar it didn't go so well!" Itzhak, glaring at translucent ghostly turkeys of Thanksgiving past, doesn't ask for or pick up a gun. Instead he picks up a drumstick, bares his teeth at the ghost animals and showily rips into it. Yeah, who's apex predator here? This Jew!

What the hell does one do when charged at by a turkey? This is not what Ruiz was expecting, and he looks almost resigned as he goes to draw his sidearm, drop a round into the chamber, and attempt to fire on the ghostly bird. He's not convinced it'll work, but maybe it'll frighten the thing off, if nothing else.

"I got us covered," Vic declares to Easton, handing over an HK to her father, while pulling her own Glock out for herself. "And yeah, they're also not all hostile. Like the friends I'm staying with? Their mom's ghost is there, and she's actually really nice." She glances over at the buffet of food. "They like corn right?" She reaches for a handful of niblets to or a piece of a centerpiece if there's any on the cob around, to waggle it at the turkey on the table. "You hungry big guy? Here's some apology veggies..."

Walt checks the pistol and keeps it pointed low as he watches his daughter try to negotiate with a ghost turkey like it's a terrorist or something.

"Oh fuck ghosts. All of 'em" Easton grouchily declares as Itzhak reminds him about the time he shot out the window trying to 'kill' the ghost of Billy Ghoul. He grumbles and says, "Come on you bunch of stupid chickens, we get it we should go vegan." He aims a kick at one of the turkeys, hesitant to use his gun unless they actually start doing real damage to people or the bar or otherwise.

Itzhak is unintimidated. He's an American. It's his God-given right to eat turkey on Thanksgiving, or close enough to Thanksgiving as makes no never mind. "Yeah don't gimme that look, I'll feed you to my snake," he snaps back at angry turkey fas. "Look, fine, you wanna make a deal? I'll play for youse, then you go to wherever turkey heaven is, yeah?" He wipes his hands, unlatches his violin case. "Guys," he says, rosining up his bow, "put the hardware away, won't do no good. Give 'em some food or something maybe. Jesus," he grumbles, like ghost turkeys interrupting his dinner happened to annoy him specifically.

Ruiz lets out a grumbled curse in Spanish as his shot plows into the floor, and accomplishes exactly nothing. Which is no surprise, but still fucking annoying. He jerks his head to the side as the menace reappears on his shoulder and starts pecking at his ear, and swats at the thing to try to dislodge it. The captain is apparently in no mood to negotiate with terrorists, because he snarls at the others, "Will someone fucking get rid of these things?" Goddamned American traditions. Who convinced him to try deep fried turkey, anyway?

Vic drops a little pile of corn for the ghost turkey, then moves to the counter and grabs the whole serving dish before setting it on the floor. "Here gobble gobbles, dinner is served!" she hollers. Her father just facepalms. "I'm gonna forget this happened later, right?" he asks his kid.

Vic shrugs. "Maybe. You don't remember the incident at my 13th birthday, right?" He looks confused. "Sometimes this stuff won't stick, hopefully it won't this time." He doesn't look too sure, but he adds the green bean bowl to the floor for the turkeys.

The fluttering of feathers and wings and getting between his legs is annoying but there isn't that much Easton can do about it since every kick he aims at the bird just sails through. Finally one such kick and miss ends with Easton on his back with a turkey all up on his grill pecking at him as if trying to eat his beard. "Oh fuck off!" Easton swings his gun hand and really isn't onboard with the whole 'make nice with the ghost birds' plan just yet.

NOT HIS NEW VIOLIN. Itzhak curses real good in Yiddish, then taps his violin. The bird slime slips right off it as if it's teflon, no trace left behind. "You eat, you get one song, then you fuckin' leave!" he informs the ghost birds, now pissed off himself because you just don't shit on a man's violin. He sets it under his chin, raps out the tempo--one, two, one two three four--and swings into a lively bluegrass standard, Turkey In The Hay.

Well, that's just wonderful. Resigned to his fate, De la Vega drops back into his chair with his turkey hat, folds his arms, and watches and waits to see if Itzhak's music will work its magic.

As the full turkeys explode, thankfully non-messily, Vic breathes a sigh of relief. "Well that worked. Bizarrely. And...I think maybe we get ham next year." Wait, would that summon ghost pigs? "In Seattle." Away from Gray Harbor.

Walt safeties the pistol and hands it back to Vic, who puts both in her purse, which doesn't look like it would hold more than one.

Easton continues to fight at his poultry attackers, unaware of the fact that the others have long since figured this out. Yes, he might need to be rescued from ghost turkeys. Yes, he should be severely mocked for this later.

"C'mon don't be like that," Itzhak calls to the turkeys which haven't been calmed, "come on over heah, this song's about you!" Like he'd try to lure his little niece away from troublemaking. He even starts singing, too, fiddling away. "Well, if frogs had wings and snakes had hair - And automobiles went flyin' through the air - Well, if watermelons grew on a huckleberry vine - We'd still have winter in the summer time! Turkey in the hay, in the hay hay hay! Turkey in the straw, the straw straw straw!"

Javier, meanwhile, has rather lost his appetite for deep fried turkey. Which he never really saw the point of (and grumbled more than once to Itzhak about, when pressured about this stupid holiday). He does however shoot a grateful smile his boyfriend's way as the roosting bird atop his head disappears in a puff of feathers, and finally stows his gun in its holster. Not that the thing was any use to him, anyway. "Don't stop," he murmurs to the fiddler, nudging the younger man's whiskey sour closer to him. To Walt, "What're you drinking?" as he digs his wallet out.

Vic looks at Bennie with an arched brow. "The pie isn't going to summon the Great Pumpkin to slaughter us all in the name of Linus, right?"

Walt grunts at Ruiz. "Whiskey, of course," he replies. Also where Vic gets that from.

Covering his face and swatting at the bird is about all Easton can figure to do for right now as they keep mixing between tangible and intangible. He hears the music and is at first annoyed by it until it actually works in getting the crazed ghost turkey to relent. He sits up and shakes off any ghost feathers that have landed in his hair or beard with a scowl. He is about to growl something, probably at least 80%% cuss words but then he catches Bennie's big smile and he can't help but laugh.

"Whiskey. And then pie."

He likewise tucks his gun away in his waistband for now and makes his way to his feet to retrieve his drink, check it for feathers and then help serve pie.