Feeding the Buzzards

This strange family has a tradition at Christmas time....

It was custom every Christmas that the entire Buzzard family, and their tolerated in-laws, the Hawks, 

would gather at Mr and Mrs Buzzard's house. There was Grandma and Grandpa Buzzard - and 

obviously the hosts, Mr and Mrs - the Young Buzzards - Tom, Dick and Harry - Mrs Buzzard's 

estranged brother Nigel, and Eddie Hawk, Mrs Buzzard's insufferable father - her mother had died 

earlier this year - all crammed around Mr and Mrs Buzzard's dining table.

The table had been set with crackers and napkins decorated with tiny Christmas puddings. Everyone 

was talking very loudly, as the Buzzards did, and Eddie Hawk, who had already had six glasses of 

wine, (two he had spilt on himself) was waving his empty glass around in the hopes of attracting a 

top-up. 

Mr and Mrs Buzzard carried steaming bowls of vegetables, potatoes and parsnips into the room, 

currently the scene of a massacre in which Eddie had cornered the Elderly Buzzards and was raving 

about his latest heart attack scare, and the Young Buzzards were screaming and bashing their 

Christmas toys on the table. The arrival of food silenced the noise momentarily, then the room 

erupted into cheers. 

"Aye, grub's up!" slurred Eddie Hawk. 

The Elderly Buzzards rushed over to help the hosts.

"Let me help with those," offered Grandpa Buzzard. 

"Where's the meat!" shrieked tiny, skinny Grandma Buzzard.

 

"She needs some, she's nothing but bones," said Grandpa Buzzard. 

"Let me take that, dear." Grandma Buzzard motioned to one of the plates that Mrs Buzzard - a plump, stern, 

matronly looking woman with a face as red as a tomato - held effortlessly. 

"Don't be silly mother, the weight of it would break your arms," she chided.

 

"I'll get the carving set!" Announced Eddie. 

"No!" Shrieked Mrs Buzzard. 

"Lay off, old-timer, you aren't stealing my thunder this year!" Declared Mr Buzzard hotly. "The meat 

is mine to carve!" 

"Hold on just a minute 'ere," Eddie slurred. "We agreed, it's our sides' turn." 

"You don't have a "side" - there's only you left! I haven't had a turn for six years and it's my house!" 

Screamed Mr Buzzard. 

"You're a butcher, you get to carve all day long." 

"And why should I stop when I get home?" Demanded angry Mr Buzzard, his moustache bristling. 

"During the war," Grandpa buzzard chipped in, "we all knew we had to share. "  

 

"Its Nigel's turn," Snapped Mrs Buzzard, silencing them. "Where is he? Is he even coming?" 

"I heard he was bringin' a new lady friend," Eddie whispered, and winked at them. 

"What?" She exploded. "As if I can conjure up another chair!" She huffed miserably. "What's taking 

him so long? Has he been in an accident? Has he died? Is his new lady so large that he is prising her 

out of the car with a spatula as we speak! Honestly it's just rudeness is what it is." 

Suddenly the doorbell chimes and the table explodes into action. The Young Buzzards grab their toys 

and run to the door, nearly overturning a steaming bowl of sprouts clutched by Mrs Buzzard. 

"Oi! Don't you run in this house, Tom, Dick and Harry!" She yelled after them, and slammed the sprouts down on 

the table next to Eddie. 

"Urrrggghhhh!" He exclaimed. "What is that?" 

"Sprouts. Jamie Oliver's recipe." 

"Why are they orange?!" 

"Because Jamie Oliver says so." 

"No, no, no! I liked last years, with the bacon and the walnuts, proper winter food, this, this is... 

crap! Damn Jamie Oliver, spoiling food. Leave it alone for God's sake!" 

The Young Buzzards ran back in then, clutching new presents, followed by Mrs. Buzzard's estranged 

brother Nigel, with an attractive young woman on his arm. 

"Merry Christmas!" Nigel announced, grinning. The hosts stare at him coldly. "Sorry we're late. This is Asha 

everyone. " 

The girl on his arm waved shyly to the family. 

It took a moment, but Mrs Buzzard eventually smiled frostily and walked over to shake Asha's hand. "How lovely to meet you!" She said in her friendliest voice, then turned to Nigel. "My goodness! We thought you weren't coming." She chuckled, then seized Nigel and drew him into a tight hug, much like how a snake squeezes its prey. 

"Thought we were going to have to hunt you down." Said Mr Buzzard. 

"Oh no, no need," Nigel stammered. 

"Would you like a drink my dear? " Mrs Buzzard asked Asha. 

"I'd love one!" 

"This way."

 Nigel watched nervously as Mrs Buzzard led Asha into the kitchen.

 

"Don't worry," said Mr Buzzard. "They'll be back out soon. So what happened?" 

"There was-there was a lot of traffic." 

"Nonsense you got cold feet, didn't you?"  

 

"Well I- its a big event, there's a lot of pressure." 

"But you've known it was your turn since last year." 

"Knowing it and doing it are two different things." Nigel protested. "I tell you now, I don't agree with it, and I'm never doing this again!" 

Mr Buzzard sighed. "We've been more than generous, leaving you 'til last and giving you years to prepare. 

You're part of this family - you can't let the family down." 

"I won't let the family down." 

"Good." 

"But this is the last Christmas." Declared Nigel. "I'm spending it in the Caribbean next year, I won't be a part of this!" 

"Fine! As long as you fulfil your family duties this year you can do whatever you want." 

Mr Buzzard and Nigel were glaring at each other when Mrs Buzzard and Asha came back out of the 

kitchen. 

"What's going on?" Demanded Mrs Buzzard. 

"Nothing." Said Mr Buzzard, "Just a little misunderstanding... but everything's clear now." 

Nigel nods. 

Mrs Buzzard shook her head irritably at him. "You were always a troublemaker. 

Asha began to look uncomfortable. 

"Can we eat now!" Moans Harry. "I'm starvin'!" 

"Yes, let's eat," Mrs. Buzzard says. "Nigel... would you do the honours?" 

Nigel doesn't move. 

"I can do it, if you feel squeamish." Offered Mr Buzzard.

"No," said Nigel. "I can do it." 

Asha looks at Nigel, worried. 

"Good," said Mr Buzzard. "Now where's the carving knife?" 

"Where it belongs!" Yelled Eddie Hawk. "In my hand." 

Mrs Buzzard stared at him in horror. "When did you get hold of that?"

"Give it to Nigel," ordered Mr Buzzard. 

"But its my turn!" Whined Eddie. 

"That's next year - it's Nigel's turn."  

 

"No," said Eddie and hid the knife behind his back. 

After Mr Buzzard had wrestled the knife from Eddie, he gave it to Nigel. Nigel looked at it with 

uncertainty. 

"Be brave," said Mrs Buzzard. 

"Nigel, what's going on?" Asha demanded. 

Nigel looked at his feet."It's my turn to carve the meat. It's a... family tradition." 

"Oh, don't you want to carve?" Asked Asha. 

"I've never done it before." Said Nigel glumly.

"You'll be fine." Said Mrs Buzzard. 

"It's in the kitchen," said Nigel, and let Asha lead the way back into the kitchen. 

"What meat are we having?" She asked. 

"Oh, it's always a mystery surprise meat. We kind of leave it to the last minute, so we don't know 

what we're having until Christmas day!" 

As Asha walked into the kitchen, Mrs Buzzard reached out suddenly and grabbed Nigel's arm. 

"Don't be a coward!" she hissed into his ear, "our mother would be ashamed of you." 

"But I really like this one! " whispered Nigel. "Isn't there any other way?" 

Mrs Buzzard shook her head. "Unless you want to offer yourself in her place." Nigel shuddered. "We 

all have to make sacrifices for the good of the family." 

Nigel hung his head and followed Asha into the kitchen.

 

"Damnit it's my turn next year!" Yelled a furious Eddie, and slammed his wine glass down on the table. "More booze!" 

"Well, at least Nigel has stopped going for the fat birds, huh?" Whispered Mr Buzzard. "And just in 

time." 

"No!" says Grandpa Buzzard. "They've got to have a bit of meat on them! All these skinny girls these 

days! Why they all look like they're on rations!" 

"She looks nice though," chimed in Grandma Buzzard. "And what's the point of carrying a load of 

useless fat around?" She said to Grandpa Buzzard, and glared at him. "You think a nice young man like Nigel should have walked in with Jabba the Hutt?" 

"Agreed!" shouts Eddie. "The rest of them were as big as hot air balloons, but they'd never get off 

the ground!" He cackled.

"But during the war we actually liked eating." 

"Nobody's contesting that! " Roared Mr Buzzard. "What's taking him so long!"  

 

"And drink," said Eddie, "we like to drink!" 

 "Is it done?" Mrs Buzzard yelled into the kitchen 

"Can't you wait a moment?" Shouted Nigel's voice from the kitchen. 

"No!" Yells Eddie and resumed his drunken cackle. He reached out for his wine glass, and instead sent it flying off of the table. Mrs Buzzard sighed and put her head in her hands.

Eventually Nigel carried the meat out, and more wine for Eddie. 

The Buzzards cheered and tucked in. They were starving. 

When most of the Buzzards had finished eating, and they had began to talk again, Nigel leaned over the table and whispered to Mrs Buzzard. 

"Well... what did you think of Asha?" 

Mrs Buzzard chewed her last forkful of meat thoughtfully for a moment. 

"I really liked her." She said.

"Yes, she was lovely," chipped in Mr Buzzard, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. 

Nigel breathed a huge sigh of relief. 

"What did you think of Asha, dad?" Mrs Buzzard asked Eddie. 

"Very nice girl, but..." Eddie looked sadly at his plate, "she wasn't as big as the last one."