Just because I’m a turkey doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings okay. Thanksgiving makes me furious. It is not for everyone. And it is definitely not for turkeys.
You know what I’m thankful for? Nothing. You know why? I’m gonna get slaughtered on the great day of thanks. Straight up slaughtered. Some lanky man in a straw hat’s gonna wring my neck and take me inside. I don’t wanna go inside. I’m an outdoorsie kinda gal.
Thanksgiving. Give thanks. WHO THE HELL DO I GIVE IT TO! You can’t give thanks. You can give a gift or some tasty food. I don’t give; I only receive, you understand? And guess what present I’m receiving for Thanksgiving? DEATH. Aw, little turkey girl, you must be so sad, since you’re dying and all, while everyone else’ll be outside eating mashed potatoes and throwing around the pigskin. No,no,no,no,no,no. I’m not sad. Get your mind out of the gutter. Actually, get your mind in the gutter. Shove your ugly, pathetic face inside the gutter and die because if you’re reading this, you’re a human, and your gonna kill me and celebrate it! You’re a waste of space. All you humans are the same. You’re all fat and grotesque. Models? MoDeLs?!?! Every model I’ve ever seen looks more awful than the next. You want a swimsuit magazine, start taking pictures of seals. Those are the real beauties.
But listen. I am NOT sad. Okay? You think I cry? Yeah you do. You pathetic Sargento cheese sticks, you. I’ll tell you why I don’t cry. It’s because I have Sjögren's syndrome. It’s a disease. Look it up.
People keep calling me a hen. Hen this, hen that. It’s 2018, you dweebs, I can be whoever the hell I wanna be. I’m a turkey.
This one farm girl who lives on my farm, her name is Eda. She’s from Turkey. She’s a dingus. Last Thanksgiving Eda told me, “Happy Tgivz, you little hen!”
Jesus Christ. Tgivz? What kind of an abbreviation is that? Why is it so hard for you to speak your own language? Just say your damn words! And what kind of monster says Tgivz? Eda. That’s who. I’m pretty sure that’s also the name of Mussolini’s daughter.
When Eda and her little sister chase me around, I wish there was a noose around my neck. But I have those survivor instincts, you know, because I’m a turkey and all, so I run away. One day I’m gonna muster up the guts to start chasing Eda. I’ll chase her, and I’ll peck her right in the face and knock her down. That’ll be the day. When Turkish girl can’t run no more.
So next Thanksgiving, don’t be thankful. Think about me. Think about the badass Turkey who wasn’t afraid. Think about the turkey that wasn’t thankful at all. That’s what Thanksgiving is all about. Those who are smart enough to not be thankful. Then, reach across the table and wring the neck of whatever phony family member is sitting across from you. Stuff them with stuffing and shove an apple in their mouth. Then come outside and feed them to me.
©2019 Jake Schick