*We begin in the boys' apartment, early Thanksgiving morning. We hear whistling drift through the apartment, coming from the kitchen area, which is just off the living room area. Slip stands at the small counter area, with a cutting board, cutting up veggies.*

Sach: (He staggers in first, wearing orange footie pajamas and carrying a stuffed bear) Hi, Chief. Happy Thanksgivin'!

Slip: *Looks over his shoulder* Happy Thanksgivin', Sach. Yer up early.

Sach: 'Course I am! It's Thanksgivin'! They're gonna start showin' all the parades soon!

Slip: Right, sorry, forgot. *pauses* No snitchin'!

Sach: (Puts up a hand) I wouldn't do that! (Frowns) Are you sure you wanna do all the cookin' this year, 'steada havin' turkey with your folks or mine? It is a big job...

Slip: *Shrugs* Yeah, it's a big job, but I can handle it. I got the whole thing planned out.

Sach: So tell me 'bout it! I know we ain't gonna have a turkey. It wouldn't fit in our apartment!

Slip: Nah. I'm makin' the stew instead. It's a lot easier than the bird. *Makes a face* 'Sides, after last year, Ma didn't exactly wanna be feedin' all of us again.

Sach: So I ate half the bird an' Chuck an' Butch started a fight over the last slice of apple pie. What's wrong wit' that?

Slip: Nutin'.

Sach: When are you gonna start boilin' the stew?

Slip: I gotta finish cuttin' up this stuff first.

Sach: Need any help? (Grins) And what are we gonna do about dessert? I've never seen you make a pie.

Slip: That's cuz I ain't good at makin' 'em. I bought three at the bakery yesterday instead. An' yes, one is all yers.

Sach: Oh, boy! The really good bakery down the block? The one you can smell when you open your windows on summer evenings?

Slip: That's the one.

Sach: Chief, you're wonderful! (He gives Slip a big hug!)

Slip: Okay, Sach, okay. Wanna get the pies outta the fridge? They're in that brown paper bag wit' the note that says "hands off."

Sach: Got it, Chief! (We hear more moving in the curtained-off rooms as he leans into the fridge)

*Whitey shuffles out next, yawning and scratching his head, messing up his perpetually messy hair.*

Sach: (As he comes out of the fridge with three pies) Oh, hi Whitey. Happy Thanksgivin'!

Whitey: *Smiles sleepily* Happy Thanksgiving, Sach, *nods* Slip.

Slip: *As he continues cutting* Happy Thanksgivin', Whitey.

Sach: Ready to watch the parade on TV? Beats fightin' the crowds to watch it at Macy's!

Whitey: You bet it is.

Sach: (Turns to Slip with the pies) Anyplace you want me to put these, Chief?

Slip: Top-a the fridge. Anywhere else an' they'll be in the way.

Sach: Got it. (He puts the pies on top of the fridge.) Need any help with the food, Chief?

Slip: Yer gonna keep askin' until I let ya do som'en, right, Sach?

Sach: Of course.

Slip: Wanna start brownin' the meat, then?

Sach: Ok! I can do that! (Turns to Whitey) Wanna turn on channel 4? The parade should be on soon!

Whitey: Sure! *turns the TV on, then to channel 4* Oh boy, just in time!

Sach: Great! I hope they have the big turkey float and maybe Howdy Doody.

Whitey: I'll let ya know if I see either, Sach.

Sach: (He squirts olive oil into a pan and dumps the beef in) I'm sure glad that little Italian store on the next block sells olive oil. None of the regular stores have it, and it's good for all kinds of stuff.

Slip: You ain't kiddin'. It's better 'an usin' butter for everythin'.

Sach: Yeah. (Pokes Slip in the stomach) Some of us don't need the butter.

Slip: Sach... ya want me to stay in a good mood?

Sach: Sure! Why?

Slip: Then don't poke my stomach.

Sach: Ok, ok. (He looks over his shoulder) Oooh, there's the float with all the newspaper characters, the Katzenjammer Kids and Prince Valiant and Popeye! I love Popeye! (He flexes his skinny arm) Got any spinach, Chief? I wanna see if it makes my arms bigger.

Slip: Only if ya stick the can in yer sleeve.

Sach: (Gives Slip a shove) You're funny, Chief.

Slip: Thanks.

Sach: (He leans over his browning meat and takes a sniff) That smells good. (Turns to Slip) Hey Chief, how does this look?

Slip: Lookin' good, Sach. I think you can add everythin' I got there on the counter. It's all measured an' ready to dump.

Sach: Ok! (He grabs the various cups and spoons and tosses them in...sometimes tossing it over his shoulder or around his back.)

Slip: Ya sure got a way wit' mixin' ingredients.

Sach: Thanks, Chief! It's my own idiot-syncrat-sies.

Slip: Ya got the idiot part right.

Sach: Aw, you're just sayin' that, Chief.

Slip: No, I mean it, Sach.

Sach: Thanks, Chief!

(At this point, two familiar figures in their pajamas stumble out of bed. Butch yawns and scratches his back.)

Butch: Can't a guy get any sleep aroun' here?

Chuck: *Thumps into a seat at the table* I learned ya can't a long time ago. *runs a hand through his wavy hair, which is sticking out in every direction*

Sach: Happy Thanksgivin' to you guys, too.

Butch: Geez, it's Thanksgivin' already?

Chuck: Happy Thanksgiving, Sach.

Butch: What are we havin' for dinner this year, Slip? I know you said we weren't goin' back to your ma's house after last year.

Slip: Makin' my Irish Stew. I figure we all really enjoy, it so why not?

Chuck: *his chin is resting in one palm, elbow propped on the table* You oughta cook more often, Slip. I haven't seen ya this happy in a while.

Sach: Yeah! Your Irish Stew is the best!

Slip: You guys're just sayin' that.

Butch: No way! You're really good. You make good mashed potatoes, too.

Sach: I love everythin' you make!

Butch: You love everything that everyone makes, Sach.

Sach: So?

Butch: Is there anything we can do to help, Slip?

Slip: We still need the green bean casserole and the squash...

Whitey: *Comes into the kitchen with a can* I got the cranberry sauce!

Sach: Ooh, it's just not Thanksgivin without cranberry sauce!

Butch: I'll make the squash.

Sach: I'll find the bread! (He rummages through cupboards)

Chuck: Guess that leaves me with the green beans.

*Slip flips a can to Chuck. It's condensed cream of mushroom soup.*

Chuck: *Grins* Thanks, Slip.

Butch: (He pulls a bag of squash out of the refrigerator and grabs a bowl) I'm going to do this in the living room. There isn't enough room in the kitchen for all of us. (He joins Whitey in front of the TV.)

Sach: (He bumps into Slip, then Chuck) Yeah, it is a little cozy in here.

Slip: Sach, there ain't nutin' about you that's cozy.

Sach: How about the bread, Chief...oops! (He drops the bread bag in the stew pot.) Sorry.

Slip: Sach, I'm bein' good. Don't contempt fate.

Sach: I'm sure it'll be fine, Chief! Bread makes great seasonin'! (He fishes the bag out of the pot and wipes it off) See? No harm done.

Slip: *Mutters as he turns back to what he's doing* One, two, three... *continues*

Sach: You know, maybe we ought to drag out a bigger table for all the food we're gonna eat. We usually just eat in the livin' room or at Louie's.

Chuck: I think that's a good idea, Sach.

Sach: Whitey, why don't you n' I do it, and let these guys cook?

Whitey: Okay! *goes to Sach*

Sach: Ok, I know we have a card table around here somewhere. We use it when we have guys visit to play poker n' go fish.

Whitey: It's down in the basement, Sach, with the foldin' chairs.

Sach: That's right! Ma Kelly let us drag it down there when we had Gabe an' Duke over for a go fish tournament. (Makes a face) And Gabe n' the Chief cleaned us all out.

Whitey: I think they were workin' together.

Sach: Let's get our clothes on and go find the table n' chairs. If we work real fast, we won't miss too much of the parade!

Whitey: Yeah, lets hurry!

(We cut from the boys heading to their room to get dressed to the dark, dusty basement. There's a huge old boiler in one corner. Cobwebby odds and ends are stacked on rickety shelves. Boxes and crates line the room. The table and chairs are off to one side, near a window covered in gray dust. The boys, now dressed, make their way downstairs.)

Sach: (Shudders) This place gives me the creeps.

Whitey: I hate it when the furnace turns on.

Sach: (Nods) Yeah. It makes a really big noise you can hear from a mile away! (He switches on an overhead light near the table) There. That's a little better. Ok, why don't you fold up the table n' I get the chairs?

Whitey: Sure! *goes to the table and turns it on it's side to fold in the legs*

Sach: (He tries folding a chair, but it won't budge) Hey, this one is stuck!(He struggles with the chair, but he just ends up on his rear end.) Darn chair... (He grabs the chair again...but this time, it closes on his hand! He grabs his hand and runs around the room wailing.) Oh! Oh! The chair bit me! Mad chair! Mad chair!

Whitey: *Looks at the chair* But, Sach, the chair isn't foaming!

Sach: No, but it sure is mad! It don't like me! (Kicks the chair) I'll get this chair if it's the last thing I do! (He grabs the chair and struggles hard with it. He rolls across the room with it. We briefly see it in limited animation as it seems to come to life to battle with Sach! Sach finally gets the chair under his knee and closed. He sits on his knees as Whitey grabs his arms and raises them in the air.)

Whitey: Winner and still champion, Horace DeBussy Jones!

Sach: That's me, the winner! (He stands and grabs the chair) And now that I've shown this chair who's boss, let's get it to the chief.

Whitey: Yeah! *grabs the table*

(Cut to upstairs. Butch and Chuck are also now dressed. Butch is just sliding the squash in the oven.)

*Chuck is mixing the green beans and cream soup.*

Butch: How's the stew coming, Chief?

Slip: *Sniffs it* Great.

Butch: This is going to be a great Thanksgiving! Maybe it's a good thing we didn't eat at your ma's this year, Slip. Who needs turkey, anyway? It just makes you tired later.

Chuck: Ma's probably happy, too.

Butch: Yeah, your ma is ok and everythin', but I don't know how happy she was to have all five of us and your sister and her family last year.

Slip: *Winces* I can still feel the welt she left on me for that even though it's long gone.

Butch: Oh, THAT not happy. I was wondering why you were complainin' about bein' sore all that night.

Chuck: Slip took all the flack for it, too.

Butch: Why did you do that, Chief? We were at fault, too. Sach didn't have to eat half the bird by himself, and Chuck and I were the ones who made the pie mess.

Slip: Cuz I was the one invitin' ya an' not tellin' Ma I was doin' it.

Butch: At the very least, we won't have to deal with Sach snoring in our ears until noon tomorrow this year.

Slip: That's enough for me.

(Suddenly, the door flings open. Sach comes in first, dragging several chairs.)

*Whitey follows, carrying the table.*

Sach: And I emerge the victor! Here they are, Chief, subdued for your eatin' pleasure!

Butch: Where have you guys been?

Sach: Fightin' the chairs! They were real nasty!

Whitey: But Sach came out victorious!

Slip: Congratulations, Sach. If I ever have a problem wit' the couch, I'll have you attack it.

Sach: Ok, Chief! (Eyes the couch.)

Butch: How's the green bean casserole coming, Chuck?

Chuck: *As he puts the crispy onions on top* Rather nicely.

Sach: (He leans over Chuck and takes a deep sniff) Oh boy, does that smell good! (Grabs a handful of onions)

Chuck: Sach! *laughs*

Sach: We gotta get more of these when it ain't Thanksgivin'! (Flops down on the couch in front of the TV) Hey look, there's Howdy Doody in the parade!

Butch: Sach, why don't you help Whitey set up the table and chairs? You can see the parade from there.

Sach: Aww! Party pooper. (He joins Whitey as he finishes his onions.)

(Cut to later. Whitey and Sach are setting the table with slightly cracked china, a white tablecloth with a grape stain on it, and two old pewter candlesticks with tall red candles. Sach sets the loaf of bread on a plate and puts out a dish of butter. Butch sets the squash on a counter.)

Sach: (He leans over and sniffs the squash) That sure smells good, Butchy!

Butch: Thanks, Sach. It took it a while to mash it right.

*Chuck brings out the green bean casserole with a big grin, purposely trying to avoid Sach.*

Slip: *Follows with the stew pot* Stew's on! No rush, there's plenty for everyone.

Sach: Me first! (He grabs a bowl and a spoon and runs over to Slip immediately.)

Slip: I'm puttin' it down first, Sach, then you can fill up on it.

Sach: Ok, I'll wait for a few seconds.

Butch: (He grabs his bowl) The line forms behind Sach.

Slip: *Steps back* Go to it.

Sach: (He plops spoonful after spoonful of stew in his bowl) Boy, this looks good, Chief. Smells good, too.

Slip: *Grabs the spoon once it's empty* Sach... eat what ya got, first.

Sach: Oh, all right. (He goes to get some squash and green bean casserole while the other boys get their stew.)

Butch: (Sniffs) This sure smells good, Chief!

Whitey: Yeah, this might be your best batch yet!

Chuck: You've outdone yourself again, Slip.

Slip; Thanks, fellas.

Butch: (As he takes some green bean casserole) Doesn't look like you did too badly either, Chuck. Maybe cooking talent runs in the family.

Chuck: Well, I'm not as good as Slip is.

Sach: (He plops squash and green bean casserole on his plate) I don't care. It all looks good!

Butch: (As he sits down) How about you, Slip? Aren't you gonna eat?

Slip: *Nods* I will. I'm enjoyin' watchin' you fellas.

Sach: (He's already reaching across the table for two slices of bread) Come on, Chief! Everything's really good!

Slip: There's som'en ya ain't tried yet, Sach. *goes over to the fridge and grabs the pie with all the whipped cream*

Sach: (Looks up) Yeah?

Slip: *Walks over to Sach with the pie; holds it away* Remember that pie I said was all yours? Well, ya actually get two of 'em. *shows him the whipped cream on top, but keeps a hold of it*

Sach: I do? (He looks down at the pie)

Slip: Ya do. *smooshes the pie in Sach's face*

*Chuck grins.*

Sach: (He looks up and grins) Oooh, lemon meringue! My favorite! Thanks, Chief!

Slip: Any time, Sach. *grabs a bowl and starts to fill up on stew*