Mother sounds somewhat like Edith Bunker. Son sounds like cool devil may care stoned teenager.
Act 1: The Discovery
Mother: Oh my lord....what is that smell? You....you haven't been keeping your cool have you?
Son (wearing sunglasses and a popped collar): What do you mean "haven't been keeping my cool"? I'm always on top of my game!
Mother: You know exactly what I mean! You're keeping your cool in bags under the bed aren't you!
Act 2: The Revealing (A.k.A The Discovery)
Son: Why don't you just leave me alone mom!
The mother now somewhat entirely enraged, races to her sons bed and peeks under it only to find dozens upon dozens of bags filled to the top with cool
Mother: What's wrong with you?!?! I understand as a teenager that you need to keep your cool. But in bags!?? Bags under you bed mind you!
Mother: There's nothing sanitary about this! For god's sake this is the sort of thing serial killers do!
The son jumps out of bed and gives his mother a clean uppercut to the jaw, knocking her unconscious.
Son: WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT GOD, MOTHER!!
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone! Gorge yourself in morbid tribute to those that were slaughtered. Pretend the meat you eat is their very own flesh. SNARL AS YOU BITE DOWN, EYES GLUED TO THE GAME.
And if you're gonna drive drunk, at least make yourself throw up a little before you get behind the wheel. It sorta clears your head a bit.
And don't worry about doing that in the bathroom, you can just go ahead and let it fly in the yard as you stumble towards the car.
The pilgrims would have wanted it that way.