Flew back to my hometown. The airport was eerie; I was literally the only passenger past security for a good 30 minutes. Granted, I got there a little early and the airport where I live is small, but still it's weird seeing normally heavily populated areas with no one in them. Posted up at the bar, overpaid for a beer and pre-made sandwich. Bartender gave the second one as a freebie though, so I'm thankful for that. Didn't even need to pass a charisma check. Across the hall from my seat was a family with masks and face shields. AC must have been pushing 30. The stewardess gave me a free cheese and fruit platter, probably due to the charisma boost from drinking the two beers, definitely wasn't because it was expiring or anything. I ate as slow as possible in order to keep my ninja mask off as long as I could. Thanksgiving itself was normal enough. As a man, my only duty was to consume the hard work of the slave women in the kitchen before they get a chance. Typical Thanksgiving things also include football games, family members asking every possible question in the history of man (about my life specifically), and cliches involving "food babies," "comas," and "upping pants sizes," you know, not like Americans don't eat that much every day or anything. But no, no pie was eaten. Desserts wish they could explore my holy of holies. Sometimes I wish they could as well.