The families arrived to Debra's bungalow individually. When the girls arrived with their families, they moved them to separate rooms inside the house so they wouldn't see each other. Debra's mother was the last to arrive at the house. She greeted and hugged her daughter like she had no problem. The girls waited in the living room.
"Hello, sweetie," she said. "Hello, sweetie's friends."
Debra's friends waved to her.
"You know I love your friends better than their moms. Your friends are good people; their mothers aren't."
"My mom is actually a good person," said Madeline.
"I know. She made a nice dinner. Too bad she walked all over it."
"Well, you did throw a boob at her face."
"I did? I don't remember."
"Can I get my parents out now?" whispered Lizzie to Madeline.
"Yeah," Madeline nodded.
"What are you talking about?" asked Mrs. Lincoln.
"Oh, nothing," said Lizzie, walking backwards out of the living room. "My parents aren't here."
"What?"
"Oh, nothing." Lizzie ran into the hallway.
"I like Lizzie," said Debra's mother. "Lizzie's nice. I don't mind seeing less Lizzie."
Soon, Lizzie entered the living room with her parents. When Lizzie's mother laid eyes on Debra's mother, she instantly showed a face of disgust.
"What is she doing here?" Lizzie's mom groaned.
"Mom, she's here so you two can settle your differences," replied Lizzie.
"Lizzie, I ought to ground you."
"I've read that bible several times, mommy, so you know I wouldn't like that."
"Excuse me, I think I left the water running in the bano," said Andrea, getting up from the couch. She walked out of the living room into the hallway.
"Why does she have water running out of a banjo?" asked Debra's mom.
"That's not important, mom," said her daughter. "What's important is that you apologize to Mrs. Duvall."
"I'm not apologizing to this Sunday school teacher."
"Well, do you want to apologize, mom?" asked Lizzie.
"No, I don't want to apologize," said her mother. "I stick to what I said."
"Come on, Mrs. Duvall," said Madeline. "Think about what God would do."
"Oh, shut up."
Soon after, Andrea walked back into the living room with her parents and her younger sisters. Immediately, when Andrea's mother saw Lizzie's mother, she made a face.
She began to utter really fast and angrily, "Oh, tienes un montón de nervios venir aquí. Yo no te creo. Yo podría caer usted en este momento. No tienes ni idea, novia."
"English, please!" ordered Lizzie's mother.
"She said she's sorry and she likes your sweater," lied Andrea.
"I said no such thing," said her mom. "I'm still angry at you."
"And I'm still angry at you," said Lizzie's mother.
"Do you want to get your mother now?" whispered Debra to Skye.
"Oh, yeah, I should," replied Skye. She yelled, "Mom!"
Later, her mother walked out until she faced the living room.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked. Then she gazed upon the other parents. "Oh, these people again?"
"We ain't too excited to see you either," said Andrea's mother.
"Debra, why are these crazy people here in my house?" asked her mom.
"Uh, this is my house," said Debra's father, standing up from the couch. "You live in your house."
"What are you talking about 'crazy people'?" questioned Skye's mother. "You're the one taking out your rubber breasts and pointing your long fingernails at people."
"You're just jealous 'cause I have the money to do my nails," said Debra's mother. "You look like your nails have never seen a drop of moisturizer."
"Excuse me, I got to go-- yeah," said Madeline, sprinting out of the room to go deep into the hall.
"Geez, mom, why can't you just put things in the past?" Skye asked frustrated.
"Because they think they can walk all over me because I'm pale and poor," her mom answered. "But as an adult, I will never let that happen. Besides, they were talking bad about your dad."
"I don't have a dad."
"Yes, you do. He's just not... around."
"Leave that girl alone," pleaded Andrea's mother.
"She's my daughter."
"And I'm your whupper."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm gonna whup you until you turn into Cool Whip because my foot's been itching to get out of this shoe."
"Don't let her take off the shoe," warned her husband.
"Relax, you old bags," Debra's mom commanded. "There's no need for violence right now."
After she said that, Madeline made an entrance with her lavish mother and father. Her mother's forehead crinkled when she spied Debra's mother.
"You!" she hissed.
"You!" Mrs. Lincoln growled.
Suddenly, the two went at it for Round 2. They lunged at each other and grappled one another with such force. They were both angry; still angry about what happened the other night. The families backed up to make room for the feisty mothers. The girls were looking at the two with surprised eyes and some of them put out their hands, indecisive of whether to break them up or not.
"Mom, stop!" Madeline ordered.
"I got money on the blonde one," said Andrea's dad.
"Oh, I think the Lincoln is going to win this one," opined Lizzie's father.
"Guys, my wife is not some cock in a cockfight," said Madeline's father.
Debra's brother, Leroy, started, "Speaking of which--"
Debra slapped him across the face before he could say anything.
"Mom, Mrs. Lincoln, you stop it!" Madeline came closer to the two.
"I'll handle this," said Andrea, walking over the fighting moms. She stuck her arms between the struggling women and pushed them away from one another. With her strength, the two were thrown down onto the floor from Andrea's force.
"You're strong," commented Debra's mother.
"Are you two serious?" snapped Madeline. "You're grown women. Fighting in front of your children?"
"Yeah, this is complete bull crud," agreed Lizzie. "Excuse my language."
"You guys listen up, okay? The only reason we invited you here and yesterday to these Thanksgiving dinners is because we wanted you all to get along. Me, Liz', Debra, Andrea and Skye are going to be friends forever. We're like sisters so we wanted you all to be like one big family. And we thought that you guys were mature enough to become friends since you're all adults. You're supposed to be wiser than us. So you guys better get it together or we'll send you to bed early without dinner."
"Yeah, with no dessert," added Lizzie.
"And no television for a month," said Andrea.
"And no phone," said Skye.
"Going out late will be no more," Debra said.
"Test us," Madeline dared.
"Gee, our little girl is growing up fast," said her mother, putting her hand on her chest.
Her husband put his arm around her.
"Oh, we're sorry, girls," apologized Andrea's mother. "We had no idea how close you all were."
"Well, we're very close," said Andrea, "so you all are going to have to get along."
"You're right," Lizzie's mom agreed. "Listen, I'm sorry for saying you have a thousand relatives living in your house," she said to the beautiful mother of Andrea.
"I'm sorry for calling you Brother Theresa," said Andrea's mother. "You don't look like a man at all."
"I'm sorry for forgetting your name," said Skye's mother to Madeline's mother, "and disrespecting you inside your house."
"It's okay," Madeline's mom, shaking her head a bit. "I'm sorry for calling you Kristen Stewart."
"That's okay. I am kind of pale."
"Mother, do you have something to say to Mrs. King?" asked Debra.
Her mother sighed. "I'm sorry for trying to kill you. Again. And I'm sorry for throwing my fake boobie in your face. That was uncalled for."
Madeline's mother smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate your apology. Besides, I can't get mad at a blonde."
"Me, neither!"
The two lighted up with smiles, immediately forgetting their differences.
"Since everyone is sorry," started Andrea, "can we have Thanksgiving dinner together like a family?"
Everyone in the room agreed, with overlapping "Yes's" and "Of course's".
"The food is in the kitchen," mentioned Debra's dad. "If there isn't enough turkey, I can make some turkey sandwiches for y'all."
Debra walked over to her pudgy father. "Dad, don't be petty," she whispered.
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