Dinner and a Hex

 

“Dinner and a Hex”

A Cursed Cuisine Cautionary Tale by Dale T. Doll

Barry meant well.

It was a Saturday. The Florida sun was doing its usual job of melting retinas, and Barry—who claims he’s “cutting back on his collecting”—came home clutching a faded cardboard box like he’d just won The Price is Right for weirdos.

“Got this for a dollar,” he said, beaming. “They said it came from the estate of a guy who worked for Swanson… or a cult. Not sure, they mumbled.”

I took one look at the box. It was an old TV dinner. Not a tray, mind you—the whole frozen meal, still wrapped in its original 1970s packaging. “Turkey Supreme.” The label was sun-bleached, the plastic bubbled.

I squinted at it.
“That turkey’s… breathing,” I said.

Barry leaned in. “Maybe it’s just off-gassing?”
“It just blinked, Barry.”

Naturally, he tossed it into the microwave. Naturally, the microwave shorted out, the lights flickered, and the Venus flytrap (whom I’ve recently named “Chompers”) began chanting in Latin.

We stared at each other.
“Should we call someone?” I asked.
“Who? The Butterball hotline?” he said.

The thing began to hum. Not the microwave. The dinner. It vibrated with a weird static whine like an AM station broadcasting from beyond the veil. Steam poured out from under the film, curling into clawed hands that tapped the glass like impatient dinner guests.

I did what any sensible, deeply haunted ventriloquist’s doll would do.
I grabbed a pair of tongs and flung that tray into the backyard like it was a live grenade wrapped in gravy.

It landed with a wet schlurp beside the birdbath, where Not My Cat immediately ran over, sniffed it, hissed, and shot up the nearest tree like he’d seen Elvis.

We stood in silence. A long, uncomfortable silence.
Then the mashed potatoes whispered something unholy in Aramaic and melted into the lawn.

---

Final Thoughts:

Barry is grounded from garage sales for at least two weeks.
I’ve salted the backyard.
And I’m never eating turkey again unless it’s deep-fried and exorcised.

You’ve been warned.

— Dale T. Doll 🦃📺🔮