Thanksgiving at the Skilling household
Jeff: Mom! Dad! I hope you don't mind, but I had to park the helicopter on your back deck. You know I wouldn't miss Mom's pie for the world. Can't stay long though, I have to look at an island I'm thinking of purchasing, and then there's the Harvard Alumni night later this week. Hey, there Tommy! (snicker) Still going to that loser liberal school with your weather geeks? Tell me, is it going to be too windy to take off tomorrow morning? Looks like your hair is starting to blow off, har!
Tom: Not funny, Jeffie.
Jeff: Oooh. Somebody is feeling stormy. Thanks, Mom. These potatoes are great. MMM. Hey, did you see that? That sedan. The black one, it went by twice. No, they are not looking for a house. They are looking for me. I know it. It's the FBI. They're following me.
Tom: You wish you were that important.
Jeff: Shut up Tom. Isn't there a hail storm you should be out in? Call me when you're the CEO of weather.
Tom: Hey, Jeff. Good to see you. Bet there's quite a feast planned for tonight. Maybe they'll use the good tin. I would have brought you some pie but that big guard with the glass eye took it first. Got any boyfriends yet?
Jeff: Shut up, dweeb.
Tom: Hey, I predict tomorrow in the yard will be partly cloudy with a sixty percent of shanking. Bwha ha ha!