Every Thanksgiving, BSC proves that not all traditions are worth keeping. Enter CS:T0, the guest who arrives stuffed with excuses and leaves everyone wishing they’d set stricter door policies and said to that last shot.

Why BSC? Because it’s the only place where indulgence meets absurdity. CS:T0 presence is less a celebration and more a cautionary tale: depraved in spirit, pathetic in execution, and barely good enough to tolerate unless you were forced at metaphorical gunpoint.
The stuffing metaphor writes itself. Some birds are roasted, some guests are roasted, and CS:T0? He’s the kind of stuffing that makes you regret the recipe. And as unseasoned as the first year every year.