The Great FEAST Story Challenge

The gang had so much fun doing Halloween stories they asked me to come up with a Thanksgiving fiction challenge. Okay then, sez I, write a story with a feast in it.


So Happy Turkey Day, turkeys! Enjoy the feast.

Our First National Thanksgiving
by Marina Bridges

illustration by Chris Zombieking

“Start butchering it,” Colonel Deland ordered. He leaned on his gun and stared at the carcass.

“Are you sure, Colonel? We might be able to get a photographer out. Might be worth it to wait a day or two. Be a shame to not have some sort of record. That company on their way to Gettysburg got a photograph of the one they shot, and I do believe this one to be bigger.”

Jenkins was an idiot. The Colonel wouldn’t allow a photographer anywhere near Camp Douglas. Every man in the hunting party knew it. Even the prisoners. The Union didn’t want any comparisons to Andersonville, the Confederate prisoner of war camp in Georgia. The best way to avoid comparisons was to not give anyone the opportunity to make comparisons. The truth was that Camp Douglas was every bit as brutal, filthy, disease-ridden, and filled with living skeletons as Andersonville had ever been.

The Colonel raised his gaze to regard Jenkins. “If you ever suggest calling a photographer here again, I will have you shot.” He looked at the carcass one more time before he retired to the chair the guards had set up for him under the trees…

To continue reading this story, click here.


The Exhibit
by Kelly Shew

Faint sounds of a string quartet wafted gently through the museum. People milled, talking in muted tones. Rubies and diamonds flashed and sparkled next to rhinestones and paste. Business casual mixed with tuxedos and ball gowns.

The marble floor of the entryway reflected the lights of the chandeliers. Gigantic twin staircases curved to the second floor, where an elaborate throne was placed. It was an ornate object, covered in gold and encrusted in jewels. The seat and the back were upholstered in red velvet. Many people gawked at the throne, admiring it as part of the exhibit. A few thought about sitting on it for a photo op. The dead eyes of nearby guards quickly changed their minds.

This was the first year that the Thanksgiving Day exhibit had come to Dartmouth Falls. The entire city was buzzing about the exclusive showing. A select number of people had received an invitation to what would surely be THE cultural event of the decade. They had been looking forward to this night for months, excited at the prospect of being able to lord it over friends and family…

To continue reading this story, click here.


Open Season
by Jaye W Manus

Rocky poured the contents of the bucket into the trough. He grabbed a push broom and shoved back an aggressive female so the little ones could reach the food. The female howled in frustration. Drool streamed from her gaping mouth. Rocky kept the pressure on. If he didn’t hold her back, she’d throw herself into the trough and the others would go hungry.

“You do a good job taking care of them, son.”

Rocky shrugged.

“Most folks have given up. The howlers are just too much trouble. Worthless eating machines is all they are.”

The man gave the boy a considering look. Rocky grew uncomfortable under the examination. Rocky had invited the traveler to stay the winter. An impulsive invitation born of loneliness and the rare pleasure of having someone to talk to. He wondered if he’d made a mistake.

“I was up north in Denver a few weeks ago. They’ve declared open season on howlers. Just shoot them and be done with them…”

To continue reading this story, click here.


Operation Vigilant Harvest
by Barry Bridges


My Dearest Liz:

Happy Thanksgiving from Camp Gargoyle (don’t ask – I’ll explain later).

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday, and being stuck here makes me miss you and the girls more than I could’ve thought possible. Give Emily and Erin a big kiss from Daddy. Tell them we’ll all be back together in Killeen as soon as Daddy and his friends take care of this business on the border. Tell them Daddy is helping keep our country safe from bad people. But please don’t tell them what I’m about to tell you, which is that bad people aren’t the half of it.

It’s been only a couple of weeks since our new president sent us down here after Borbon’s assassination and the collapse of the Parliament, but I’ve learned a lot in that short time. It started out just like the training exercises back at Hood. Then on the third day, we got called in for air support after two platoons cornered a group of Zetas at a private airfield west of Nuevo Laredo. Los Zetas is the nickname for the former soldiers who joined the cartels, the closest thing the drug lords have to professionals. The closest thing we had to a real enemy, at least back then.

As soon as we spotted one of the Zetas on the roof of the outbuilding unpacking an RPG, it got very real very fast. Between my bird and the other three Apaches, we must’ve put thirty thousand rounds into that shed. The commander on the ground, some hotshot major from Fort Benning, radioed for us to cease-fire and his men started moving in slowly. He said they were going to search the bodies for intel – like we’re up against an actual army instead of well-armed street thugs…

To continue reading this story, click here.


7 responses

  1. […] please check out the great feast story challenge […]

  2. Fantastic!! Everyone did such a good job!!

  3. I am also proud of everybody.

  4. Thank you, guys, for taking the challenge. The stories are fabulous!

    1. I know, Julia. Aren’t they great.

  5. […] last week I didn’t post a chapter of Dead Crazy because I wanted everyone to read the FEAST challenge. (thanks again to Kelly Shew, Marina Bridges, Barry Bridges and Chris Zombieking for […]

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