A Christmas Story Page #6

Do you know how to load it?

That's right.

Be careful.

Don't. They run all over.

Close her up. Close it up.

Can I try it out, Ma? Can I?

Sure.

Okay.

But outside.

I still say those things are dangerous.

Put on your galoshes and your coat. It's cold out.

I had one when I was eight years old.

What if he hurts himself? Ralphie, your coat!

Don't shoot any animals or birds!

Except the Bumpuses' dogs!

Be careful, Ralphie!

Now it is well known throughout the Midwest that the old man...

is a turkey junkie.

A bona fide garley turkicanus freak. A few days before Christmas...

his eyes would begin to gleam with a wild and ravenous light.

Okay, Black Bart, now you get yours.

Oh, my God! I shot my eye out!

You'll shoot your eye out, kid.

You'll shoot your eye out, you'll shoot your eye out!

Ralphie, you be careful out there. Don't shoot your eye out!

She hadn't seen! She didn't know!

My eye's all right. The BB must've hit my glasses.

My glasses! Oh, no!

Where are my glasses?

Few things brought such swift and terrible retribution...

on a kid as a pair of busted glasses!

Stop!

Oh, no!

Oh, no! Pulverized.

For a moment I thought, I'll fake it. They'll never know the lens is gone!

Randomly, my mind evolved a spectacular plot.

Let's see, an icicle!

Falls off the garage and hits me in the eye!

It would work. It had to work. Quickly, I whipped up some tears.

What's the matter, honey? What happened?

What happened? Let me see that.

There was this icicle and it fell off the garage and it hit me.

What is it?

No, it's okay. Just read your funnies.

Wake up, Randy.

Oh, God.

It hit my cheek and it broke my glasses.

And I tried to get out of the way, but I...

There, see, it's just a little bump.

You're lucky it didn't cut your eye.

Those icicles have been known to kill people.

What's going on up there?

Nothing. We'll be right down.

You stay away from that turkey! It's got an hour to cook.

You'll get worms!

But what about my glasses?

You can wear the old ones with the crack in them...

until we get you some new ones.

I had pulled it off!

But I left my gun outside.

When you get dressed you can go out and get your gun.

Hold that on there.

Life is like that.

Sometimes at the height of our reveries, when our joy is at its zenith...

when all is most right with the world...

the most unthinkable disasters descend upon us.

Oh, turkey!

Sons a b*tches! Bumpuses!

The heavenly aroma still hung heavy in the house. But it was gone.

All gone. No turkey. No turkey sandwiches.

No turkey salad. No turkey gravy, turkey hash, turkey a la king...

or gallons of turkey soup.

Gone.

All gone.

All right.

Everybody upstairs.

Get dressed.

We are going out to eat.

No! Not, "ra ra ra ra ra." "La la la la la."

Sing like this:

Try again.

Stop!

Sing something else.

No!

Stop!

Kitchen. Bring food. For customers.

Oh, I'm sorry.

It's a beautiful duck.

It really is.

But you see...

What?

It's smiling at me.

Okay?

Beautiful!

That Christmas would live in our memories...

as the Christmas when we were introduced to Chinese turkey.

All was right with the world.

Oh, honey, come over here. Look at this.

Is that beautiful!

Next to me in the blackness lay my oiled blue-steel beauty.

The greatest Christmas gift I had ever received...

or would ever receive.

Gradually, I drifted off to sleep, pranging ducks on the wing...

and getting off spectacular hip shots.

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