SYNOPSIS: What do you do when you visit your roommate's family for Thanksgiving, only to discover that they're a bunch of scary rednecks, and the bitter cold outside prevents any chance of escape if they decide to eat you? What do you say when they send you and Grandpa to the convenience store in a snowstorm to buy milk for the cheese dogs? How much are you willing to pay for a gallon of milk when you're convinced the clerk has a loaded shotgun right behind the counter? And why on Earth do they even need milk for the cheese dogs, anyway?