Your uncle had just returned from an all expense paid trip to a place called Lycanthrope Island. Upon the rise of the first full moon, he morphed into a hungry salivating werewolf and attempted to take a bite out of your soft quivering flesh. Big mistake! You immediately pummelled his gnarly butt until his growl became about as ferocious as a gnat in heat.

This only goes to strengthen the age-old theory that werewolf family members are rarely invited to attend Thanksgiving dinner.