If the turkeys revolt it’s us that will be stuffed

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CHRISTMAS is coming, the goose is getting fat. And so too the festive turkey, but this time of year a turkey has zero incentive to diet. It’s not as if a healthier lifestyle will extend their lifespan by much…if at all. You can’t blame them. Come spring you see scrawny turkeys jogging everywhere, but as with all well intentioned resolutions it peters out towards Christmas and them and us both give up pounding the pavements and pile on the pounds.

If I was a turkey at this time of year I’d take up chain smoking and book that last minute extreme sports holiday that I’d always said I’d do but never got round to.

Being about three foot tall turkeys see everything from a child’s innocent perspective… except Christmas.

But not all turkeys accept their Christmas fate without a fight. Though hushed up by the powers that be, there was a mass breakout from a turkey farm in Bavaria last week.

A gap was spotted in the barbed wire and the guys spilled out and split up, waddling frantically cross country, posing as wild indigenous fowl.

Most were caught within a few hours and returned to the farm. Some were shot on sight. But it was rumoured that one made it through to Switzerland, where unknown to the overconfident turkey, they too celebrate Christmas.

And so the festive season came early this year for little Heidi and her family when they gave the unsuspecting bird a lift. He spoke passable German and said he was Czech and on his way to visit his cousin Wolfgang in Basle. But even his swish beret and glasses did little to hide the fact that Jurgen, the immigrant midget, really was nothing more than a turkey on the run.

There is an underground network run mostly by sympathetic vegans , helping fleeing birds to escape. But where too?  Using the POW analogy, for turkeys every country is Facsist. With one shining exception.

It is said a tribe exists in a remote valley in Papua New Guinea where turkeys are worshipped as sacred. It’s a Turkey Shangri La. Though details are sketchy as the unsuspecting missionaries who discovered the tribe, also discovered to their cost that what the natives shun in fowl, they absolutely relish in humans, being quite keen cannibals.

And as with turkey, the natives found they just loved the “white meat”, the missionaries being given the name Tasty-Pastey .

One year, if the turkeys revolt it’s us that’ll be stuffed.  Timing their breakout to coincide with the Christmas party season they’ll have us with our defences down, the entire nation being even more caned than usual. It’s traditional, it’s what we do and boy do we do it well. Nowhere in the Bible is drink banned and so we take full advantage of this religious loophole.

A drunk reveller is no match for an enraged and sober broiling fowl who’s on the run with nothing to lose. In fact the state some partygoers get into in an effort to really celebrate the birth of baby Jesus, a budgie in a slightly bad mood could overpower them.

A large turkey – and these birds can be huge – bearing down at full pelt would slam into you at crotch height, upending you. This technique was perfected over time by turkeys participating in the now outlawed rural practice of informal rugby matches between them and very bored farmers, or Rurky as it was known.

Desperately fleeing turkeys even discovered the power of flight, albeit by hijacking planes to transport them en masse to Papua New Guinea. It was easy for them really as who would have thought of frisking a turkey for hidden weapons.

And so at Christmas and safe in the jungle, the turkeys can relax with a tribe that in some ways seem almost British.

They get totally ratted and argue at the dinner table over who gets the white meat.

And all with not a hint of religion in sight, unless that is, you count the main course ex-missionary – with all the trimmings.

A Very Merry Christmas to you all!

 

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