In the hall, they say George sitting between Grandma and Grandpa, all three of them apparently enjoying a game of “I spy”, made a little trickier by the fact that young George’s spelling could be a little dubious at times but fun none the less.

“We should put the memory book out!” Laura remembered as they passed the Samantha cut-out on the platter. “So people can start making their comments. Hold on.” She went up the side steps onto the stage to retrieve the precious book in its protective cardboard envelope from one of her bags along with red, green, gold and silver gel pens that she had bought for the purpose so that people could have a choice of festive colours to write in. Coming back down, she set the book and pens on the table, on the other side from the framed photograph of Emily, hoping people would understand what to do. With a fond smile, she looked up at the hanging TV screen where a slide-show of Samantha’s life, from baby photos to her recent escapades, was still playing, the pictures displayed in a random order, the most recent of which were those taken that very morning. “Come on!” she clapped her hands together, trying to get herself back on task as much as Josh. “We need to go see to Sammie. We haven’t even actually finished stuffing her yet!”

In the kitchen, they put their aprons on and donned oven gloves opened the oven and were hit by the delicious smell which wafted out along with the blast of heat. Carefully, they slid the roasting pan out and carried it over to the prep table, Laura closing the oven door with her foot so as not to lose too much heat from inside. Samantha’s skin was a pinkish-red all over as if she had suffered a terrible sun-burn and was not yet turning golden brown but they had both read enough in preparation for that day that they understood, in the case of live cooking, the actual cooking cannot start until the meat’s heart has stopped, leaving the body unable to regulate its temperature. Samantha’s eyes were closed and she had a smile of pure joy on her face and her mouth ever so slightly open but they could see no movement at all.

“Is she…?” Josh asked.

“Well we can’t really do the mirror thing with all the heat that’s coming off her,” Laura observed, thinking practically as usual, “but I really don’t see any breathing.” She moved her head down to her partially-roasted daughter’s chest, looking towards her face, and listened silently for a moment or two. “No,” she stood up, “she’s gone. Nothing we do can hurt her now.” This statement came as a relief to Josh and helped to to relax. “Can you get the stuffing bowl out of the fridge, please?” Laura instructed, “and roll some little balls, about the size of brussel sprouts. Five should do it,” she thought for a moment, head tilted, “actually make it six to be on the safe side. We can always squash any spares back into the mix.” Josh did as he was told while Laura looked through one of the bags she had brought with her for a set of tongs she had picked out specially for this purpose which had flat metal paddles on the end, about three quarters of an inch wide and an inch and a half long. Next she collected one of the spare, empty little pepper mills that had not been needed in the end of the table.

“Done!” Josh smiled when she returned to the table, proudly pointing out the six sprout-sized balls of stuffing he had produced.

“Perfect!” Laura smiled. “Now we need a wooden spoon, or a plastic one honestly, just anything with a long, round handle.” Josh went off in search of one of these and Laura gently lifted each of Samantha’s legs in turn out of the pan, positioning them bent and spread with her feet on the table either side as if she were about to undergo a gynaecological exam, then carefully moved her arms aside from where they still rested. Next, she carefully pulled apart the puffy lips of her daughter’s vulva with one hand and slid the closed tongs, paddles together, in between then she pulled the tongs apart to make her daughter’s vagina accessible for stuffing. She then used the pepper mill to wedge the tongs open and picked up the first of the stuffing balls. “Want to do the honours?” She offered it to her husband. “Or would you like me to?”

“How about you do the first one?” Josh suggested. “Then I can do some when I see how it’s done!” Agreeing that this was probably a sensible plan, Laura pushed the ball into her daughter’s gaping spit-hole, held open by the tongs, pushing it as far in as she could with her finger than taking the wooden spoon from Josh and using the handle to push the stuffing all the way up to Samantha’s cervix.

“See?” she grinned. “Pretty straight-forward?”

“I think I can manage that!” Josh took the next ball and pushed it in with his finger then took the spoon. “Funny,” he chuckled, “I didn’t need any tools last time I was up here!” Laura stuck her tongue at at him playfully as he continued to stuff their late daughter’s tight little cunt.

“She seemed pretty keen that you should get her fillet!” Laura reminded him. “Hope you’re looking forward to it?”

“Oh very much so!” Josh confirmed, pushing the next ball in as Laura took a single carrot out of the fridge, chopped two inches of the thickest part then peeled and shaped it into something like a tear-drop. “I take it that’s the plug?” he chuckled.

“It is indeed!” Laura grinned. “Think you’ll get all six up there?”

“I’m going to do my damnedest!” Josh promised, picking up the sixth ball and wedging it in, not needing the spoon this time to push it as far as it could possibly go.

“Push this in and keep your finger on it.” Laura instructed, passing him the carrot plug. Josh did as he was told and held it in place as Laura carefully removed the tongs allowing the lips to close around and swallow it, leaving only a small orange circle visible, much like with the onion that had been used to plug her other hole. “Do you want to deal with the limbs?” she suggested. “I know you’ve been reading up on it.” Josh nodded and fetched a larger knife that would be best suited to the task. “I’ll go see what’s going on in the hall for a couple of minutes, if you don’t mind?” Laura smiled but with a hint of sadness in her eyes that Josh understood completely. By the time she was served up and ready to carve, Samantha would be golden brown with crispy skin. Looking every bit the delicious roast turkey, but just now she still looked so...like herself, as if she was just sleeping and might wake up at any moment, so despite having been the one to gut her not all that long ago, Josh understood why Laura may not want to watch what he was about to do.

The biggest issue encountered by people cooking a girl turkey for the first time, Josh had read, specifically in the case of amateurs like himself and his wife, cooking at home or in another private setting, was getting the turkey to remain in the correct pose while she cooked. As a girl, or indeed any animal or bird cooked, certain muscles would contract, causing limbs to splay and straighten if careful steps were not taken so parents who put their live daughter in the oven, happily posing like a traditional turkey, could return to the oven some time later to find her apparently in the middle of a star jump, awkwardly wedged into the oven with parts of her precious meat burning. The two options to prevent this were either to tie her very securely, with the understanding that some splaying may still occur when the bonds are cut during carving, or to take the option he and Laura had decided upon, in discussion with Samantha of course, which was to wait until the girl was dead or at least unconscious then cut the muscles that could cause an issue.

With Laura safely out the room, Josh lifted Samantha’s right arm which felt floppy, like that of a marionette. Holding it up by the wrist with one hand, he used the knife to make a deep cut along the length of the tricep, right down to the bone. There was no bleeding to speak of like such a wound would cause on a living person, only a little thick, dark red gunge which oozed out of the cut and was easily wiped away. Josh carefully lowered the arm, bending it at the elbow, then placed the hand on Samantha’s shoulder so that it resembled a wing, just as she had posed for the invitations. Feeling that the arm moved freely, more freely that it should, Josh was satisfied that he had made the cut properly and repeated it on her left arm. Of course the disfiguring cuts would not be visible when Samantha was served up on the platter. The legs, which Laura had left outside the pan were a little trickier as they required two cuts which Josh had to be careful to leave functionally invisible. The first was on the back of each knee, disguised once the knee was bent, and the second horizontally across the underside of the thigh.

Feeling rather pleased with himself once Samantha’s limbs were folded back into the pan in perfect turkey pose, with no sign of any interference, Josh slathered one some more butter, especially over her check, belly, fillet and thighs and was just about to call for Laura when she came back into the kitchen, figuring that he must have finished his task by now.

“She looks lovely!” Laura kissed her husband on the cheek. “Well done! Let’s add a bit of seasoning now.” From fresh containers she had bought for the occasion, even ‘though there would likely have been more than enough in the kitchen cabinets at home, Laura sprinkled dried garlic flakes, mixed hers and some ground black pepper off the areas Josh had just added the fresh butter to. “For the next bastings,” she told him, “we should be able to use what’s in the pan as that will have all the seasoning in it, as well as her own juices. Feeling very happy with how the cooking was progressing and knowing that Samantha would definitely approve of their work, they opened the oven and carefully slid her back in, reminding each other to check on her every thirty minutes or so and that in an hour it would be time to put the other meat and potatoes in with her.

After washing their hands and taking off their aprons, they went back into the yard where the children seemed to have got bored with posing for photographs and were now playing tag on the grass. Rachel seemed to have put her clothes back on but all the other girls were still naked.

“Okay!” Josh called, clapping his hands for attention and turning off the snow machine. “Can I have everyone’s attention for a minute?” The children stopped their game and came over to where he stood, panting to get their breath back and grinning with happy excitement, the adults who had been supervising and indulgently watching their play following close behind. “Sam prepared a very special game of pass the parcel for us to play while we waited for her to cook, so I think it would be a great time to do that!”

“There’s towels by the door,” Laura told them, “so please dry off when you come in whether you want to get dressed or not. Mum?” she turned to Gram, “Maybe you can help me make some hot chocolates to warm everyone up?” Gram happily agreed and all the guests excitedly trooped back inside while Aaron waited behind to help Josh put the covers back on the outdoor cooking equipment.


To be continued...