Speaker 1: Welcome to micro Terrors, scary stories for kids where it's
always the spooky season, full of chills, thrills, and spine
tingling spooks. Micro Terrors are family friendly frights for those
ages eight and up, and while our stories are for
younger years, we are still talking about things that go
bump in the night, and some children may not be
able to handle what others can. Parental consent is recommended
now for tonights micro Terror oven roasted by Scott Donnelly.
The table was set, the fixens were displayed in fancy
bowls and plates. The aromas swirling throughout the house were comforting, enticing,
and mouthwatering. This was going to be a Thanksgiving dinner
to remember. Twelve year old Jason Ross and the entire
Ross Klan had gathered at their family home in upstate
New York. Jason had been patient, waiting all day for
this moment.
Speaker 2: Dinner time. He'd shown patients while his father, uncles, and
grandfathers watched football. He'd shown resilience while his mother, aunts
and grandmothers worked tirelessly in the kitchen before attacking the
football watching couch potatoes. For not helping enough, That's when
it all came together when they all worked as one,
all with one goal in mind. Thanksgiving Dinner Jason's Thanksgiving dinner.
Jason looked forward to the meal each and every year.
He craved the crisp turkey, the stuffing, the cranberries and potatoes,
the gravy over everything, and the wine okay, well not
actual wine, but just some sparkling grape juice. And now,
with his stomach growling intensely, it was just about time.
Everyone had gathered around the table, his parents' aunts and
uncle's grandparents, cousins. The feast was imminent. But as Jason
looked around the table, he noticed something was wrong, something
was missing, something huge. The main course, the papa entree.
Where's the turkey, Jason panicked. His aunt Iris turned to him,
just about den she said, with a smile, it's taking
a little longer. For some reason. Jason looked around as
everyone was starting to scoop mashed potatoes and stuffing onto
their plates. He nervously rolled his tongue around in his
cheek and stood up. No, this isn't right. We need
to wait. We need to wait on the turkey. That's
the main attraction the meal, Aunt Iris said. The turkey
will be done soon, Jason, Uncle Fred said, with a chuckle.
Give it time. I've given it all day, Jason said,
tossing his napkin down to the table and standing up.
I'll go check on it. As Jason scurried out of
the living room, his aunt Iras hurried behind him. Jason
crashed through the door that led into the kitchen. The
aroma was good. The heat seemed to indicate the turkey
was still cooking, so that was reassuring. Why is it
taking so long, Jason said, kneeling down by the stuff
and trying to look through the glass. Iris hurried up
behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. Come on,
she said, Let's get back out there. I'll check on
the turkey again in a few minutes. We can start
eating the other things first, No, Jason said, we need
the turkey. We can't have Thanksgiving dinner without turkey. Jason
grabbed the oven door handle and opened it. Smoke and
heat rushed out when it subsided. Jason squinted inside, only
to see an empty foil roaster filled with boil and grease.
Jason backed away and looked at Iris. Hey, what's the
big idea? He aggressively questioned his aunt. Iris couldn't believe
her eyes either. She knelt down and looked in where's
the turkey? She was just as baffled. Jason was irate
and ready to sound the alarm to the entire family. However,
behind him, a cabinet above the countert began to creak open.
Jason heard it and spun around. Standing there before the
plates and bowls. In the cabinet was the raw, uncooked turkey,
wielding a baster full of grease and wearing white frilled booties.
Without warning, it flew out of the cabinet as if
pulled by an invisible string, echoes of spectral turkey gobbles
rolling in the air. Jason screamed and ducked. Iris turned
around just in time for the wet, raw turkey to
slap against her exposed face. She screamed as she was
taken to the ground and bunsd with grease. Jason ran
out of the kitchen as fast as he could and
into the dining room. He came to a stop at
the head of the table where his dad was. His
dad turned and smiled. Is the turkey done?
Speaker 1: He asked?
Speaker 2: Jason. A gobble erupted, no, but you are the turkey
spectrally conveyed. Hopping up over Jason's shoulder was the turkey.
It smacked its naked raw wings around his face and
forced him to the ground. Thanksgiving is canceled. The uncooked
turkey gobbled Uncle Fred was next. His face was shoved
into the potatoes. The panic irrupted at the table. The
cousins all tried to flee, but the turkey wasn't having
any of it. A force fed all the cousins green
olives with the red things, killing side until they cried.
The grandparents were too slow to retreat and suffered greatly
for it. The uncooked turkey smeared stuffing in the grandmother's
hair and used a knife to cut the grandfather's suspenders,
allowing for their loose pants to come crashing to the
floor in heaping piles of corduroy and dust. The turkey
then turned its attention to Jason's mother. He hopped on
to the table and ran the length of it, charging
straight for her. All she could do was screamed, but
as the glasses of wine and grace sparkling juice were
all knocked to the side and spilt Jason's dad leaped
into action. He jumped across the table and tackled the turkey,
crashing through the window and out into the snowy yards.
Jason's dad climbed to his knees and began to punch
the turkey, repeatedly, tenderizing the stuffing right out of him.
The turkey was able to get one good pick in
with his sprilled, booty covered leg and got Jason's dad
right in the stomach. He grabbed himself and stumbled backwards.
As the turkey managed to get to its feet. It
stood there in the falling snow for a moment, the
turkey and Jason's dad having a classic Thanksgiving Day stand off,
and then, just as quickly and bizarrely as it all
cropped up, it ended. The turkey turned and ran off
into the wilderness, its spectral gobbling fading out as Jason's
dad lost sign of it. The table had been sent,
the fixens had been displayed in fancy bowls and plates.
The aromas swirling throughout the house had been comforting, enticing,
and mouthwatering, And for Jason and his family, this would
be the Thanksgiving dinner they'd remember.
Speaker 1: Thank you for listening to micro Terrors, join us each
Saturday for another scary story. For more fun, visit our
website at microterrors dot com, where you can get the
latest micro Terrors news, read fun facts about each story,
sign up for our monthly newsletter, and even send in
your own scary story for us to tell. Plus, you
can become one of the Tears by joining the fan
club at microterrors dot com, who enjoy exclusive perks like
reading stories a week early, receiving complimentary books, and communicating
directly with micro Terrors writer and creator Scott Donnelly. You
can also follow us on Facebook and Instagram using the
handle at microterrors. I hope you'll join us again soon
for micro Terrors scary stories for kids