Monte

Monte was a turkey who refused to believe turkeys can't fly. Is it our destiny to be slaughtered by human butchers at Thanksgiving? The flock grew depressed thinking about this. One of us must tempt fate and leap from that hill and test our limitations, he stated. Since he was the one asking the question, it had to be Monte.
As the others gobbled and fretted, knowing death was near, Monte waddled to the top and prepared to fly. So much drama, he thought. What's the worst that could happen? I crash and break my neck.
His parents could not look. Hiss niece thought he was crazy. His girlfriend thought it was sexy.
Monte spread his wings and lifted off. At first gravity was winning, as he dipped straight down. Then,miraculously, as he pumped his wings, he soared high into the clouds. He was so excited he evacuated a load that landed atop an innocent crossing guard.
I wish I could say the others followed suit, but because they didn;t believe their eyes, they were sacrificed for the pleasure of man. Monte  kept flying right into a rogue flock of tattooed geese wearing leather caps. They surrounded him, refused to listen to reason, and busted his wings. He screamed like a  baby turkey all the way down.

A Turkey Ruminates

I could sit here and complain--if turkeys could sit. Why me? Why us? Why not buffalo meat on Thanksgiving? All year humans consume chicken as though their lives depended on it. Chicken soup, cutlets, tenders, salad, cache tore. Suddenly, one day a year, we are the ones slaughtered.
I can't even find anyone to play cards with. All gone. Last year I faked a limp. This year I'm hoping to fool them by hoarse gobbling, like I have a sinus problem. Poor cousin Wally. Ended up with a New Age family who stuffed him with tofu.
The other day I was conversing with a yam--don't ask its name, all yams look alike to me--and it was whining about its own fate this wretched holiday. At least you can waddle away, it sobbed. I'm stuck in the ground. I think it was having an anxiety attack.
The worst part of this is surrounding us with stinky Brussel sprouts. What sick culture concocted this outrage? They'd better come up with one helluva gravy for me, mushrooms included. Mushrooms just accept their fate. Cowards.