Cathbad muttered miserably and pulled the covers off his spectral form.
"Damn. I know HoD has the whole morbid thing going, but does he need to keep these rooms so drafty? It's colder than the ninth circle of Hell in here!"
Cathbad fumbled with the thermostat on the wall. It was fortunate that the room was .. - well, "tuned" was the only word he could think of - to his ghostly frequency. He could actually touch and move things. So, up went the thermostat, set for a nice cozy 70º F.
It was some time later when he awoke to find his body tied to the bed, naked. He was also sweating. The room had grown almost unbearably hot.
"Hmmmm," he thought. "Someone paid me a visit." He looked around the room and grinned wickedly at the slightly open closet door. "Come on out, Deb-of-my-naughtiest-dreams!"
He received quite the shock when a giant, feathery and obviously male turkey popped out of the closet.
"Hello," said the turkey.
Cathbad's mouth moved but nothing came out.
"Allow me to introduce myself." The bird gobbled once to clear his throat. "I am Tom Turkey."
Again, Cathbad had so much to say, that everything log-jammed in his brain before it reached his mouth.
"You mentioned the cold circle of hell, so I thought I'd give you the experience of the seventh circle where it is quite toasty."
Cathbad stopping attempting to speak and just make quizzical expressions with his face.
"Tut-tut," said Tom. "You'll catch cold. Better cover you up."
The bird had prehensile flight feather that it used as fingers. He placed a ragged cloth over Cathbad's body.
Cathbad finally found the power of speech.
"That's no blanket, that's cheesecloth!"
"Yes, it is," agreed Tom.
"What do you want?" Cathbad asked.
"Christmas, too. I need to extract pain from you for at least two turkeys per year ; mutliply by .."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's not broadcast my age. But, I thought I was dead. I thought I was safe under Harby's protection."
"Harby's protection?" Tom laughed. "Harby's in on this one. He wanted to surprise everyone this year - with the double whammy."
"But if you kill me, what happens? Do I go to another plane? Do I dissipate?"
"Who said kill?" Tom wondered. "Killing you would be too easy. I've got years of Turkey justice to pass out. You're just the start!"
With that, Tom Turkey yanked a rope, and extremely warm gravy from hanging bucket gushed all over Cathbad.
Tom admired his dish.
"Now, for the stuffing ..."