Eating the turkey is delicious, but carving the turkey is gross. It’s bony and greasy and it slides around. It’s doesn’t cut straight, it’s rubbery and usually it’s steaming hot. But damn it, it needs to be done.
The carving of the turkey is the final peg in an enormous military-like operation of timing, precision and display. The potatoes have just been mashed, the stuffing is being put in pots and the cranberry sauce is on the table. The meal is moments away and, for everything to sync up properly, the toughest job, the carve, needs to be carried out quickly and efficiently. That’s where you come in.
In the clan’s eyes, you will be the Messiah of the Meal. As you place those perfectly cut slices down on the table, everyone will forget that you sat around all day drinking beer and watching football.