Let Me Talk to the Pardoned Turkeys
The news today is I need to have a word with those turkeys. ALONE.
Another year, another couple of turkeys getting driven in a limo to the president’s house to get told that no one’s going to eat them and jesus christ, why is this a sentence. Hahaha, why is that a real sentence???
I MEAN, OKAY, as far as doofy American traditons involving animals that have no clue what’s happening goes, I suppose it’s slightly less annoying than when 12 colonial men in tuxedoes bother a groundhog by holding it in front of a piece of paper to check if it’s a season. Slightly! SLIGHTLY.
Look, I’m no fuckin’ dummy. I know this whole thing is just Big Poultry trying to, like, remind everyone about turkeys before the huge dinner holiday, but, please, if we’re gonna keep doing this, can we AT LEAST…start giving the turkeys better names, lol?
“Liberty” and “Bell”? (takes off my glasses and sighs like a manager who just got a bad phone call) First of all, THAT SUCKS LOL, and second of all, lately they’re always named after one thing that’s two words!! “Chocolate” and “Chip,” “Peanut Butter” and “Jelly,” “Tator” and “Tot.” C’mon, these are two separate creatures, man! You can drive them around in a limo (??) and put them up in a luxurious hotel (?????), but you can’t give them two separate identities? You can’t allow them to live AND be individuals?
You wouldn’t name a set of twins, like, “Olive” and “Garden,” or, “Mr.” and “Freeze.” That would be rude as hell! “They’re turkeys, not humans,” do I look like I give a shit? Look into my eyes. You think you can reason with (points to my general eye area) whatever’s going on in here? Hm?
Alas, I guess that’s just how it FUCKING goes when you’ve committed the large crime of Being a Turkey. Oh, you were born a big round bird with a bad mouth? You are a criminal in the eyes of the government AND the lord. AND if you are lucky enough to be respected by being placed on a little platform with your friend to be “pardoned” by the president? You and your friend will be named one thing. Sorry! That’s the conditions for when you are this specific type of criminal (turkey).
I gotta speak to these pardoned turkeys, man. Let me fuckin’ talk to these guys, nobody’s sticking up for them—and they’re sure as hell not going to do it!—so, I guess it’s up to me, AS usual.
Liberty! Bell! Get your gorgeous large asses over here, Uncle Audrey’s gotta talk to you for a sec.
EXT. OUTIDE OF THE WHITE HOUSE - NIGHT
Two turkeys, LIBERTY and BELL, are just, fucking, like, SITTING on the lawn. There’s some security guards around but they don’t care about me because I’m their friend. I casually walk up to them after flopping over the fence surrounding the White House. It’s not a big deal and no one thinks it is.
ME: Good evening, Liberty and Bell, is it?
LIBERTY AND BELL (TURKEYS), AND THEY SPEAK IN UNISON: Yeah. What?
I put my arms around the pardoned turkeys long necks like we’re old friends, looking back and forth between the two.
ME, AND MY VOICE IS LOWERED TO TALK TO THEM MORE SECRETLY: So, what’s your guys’ real names, hm?
LIBERTY AND BELL, IN UNISON: LIB—
ME, AND MY VOICE IS HARSH NOW: Cut the shit with this whole “liberty” and “bell” act. I know those are aliases.
Liberty and Bell say nothing.
ME: And bitch, congratulations, they worked! You got the president to put you in a fuckin’ hotel.
Liberty and Bell stare at me and say nothing.
ME: No offense but that’s probably not hard! I mean, geez, I could probably convince ol’ Joe that I’M a turkey and have him pardon me, hahaha.
Liberty and Bell stare at me and say nothing.
ME, AND I AM HAVING FUN: I mean, geez, I might even be able to convince him that HE’S a turkey and ask him to pardon himself! Ha ha ha.
Liberty and Bell stare at me and say nothing.
ME, AND I AM BECOMING IMPATIENT: You guys don’t like jokes, or somethin’? The fuck’s up? What’s your real names????
Liberty and Bell stare at me and say nothing. I get in their weirdass faces.
ME, AND I AM MAD: You guys fuckin’ drive up here in a goddamn limo after—
LIBERTY AND BELL, IN UNISON: It was actually a Cadillac Escalade.
ME (MAD): Well, EXCUSE me! They DO speak, but only to tell my ass off, hm? Is THAT so?
Liberty and Bell stare at me and say nothing.
ME: You know that this whole charade is actually just to get people to eat MORE of you guys, right? This is all Big Turkey trying to sell more…you!
Liberty and Bell stare at me and say nothing.
ME: Like you didn’t even do anything, there’s no reason to pardon you! What is your crime? Hm? Can you tell me what your crime is? And WHAT’S YOUR REAL NAMES?
Liberty and Bell gobble.
ME: Oh, sure, yeah, do a gobble. Do a little gobble even though I just heard you correct me about your stupid car!
Liberty and Bell gobble and start to walk around in circles.
ME: Oh, okay. Okay!!! That’s fine! So you guys really are “Liberty” and “Bell,” then? Just two proud USA symbols, hm?
They are fully turneed away from me at this point and just being turkeys.
ME AND I AM DESPERATE FOR NO APPARENT ACTUAL REASON: You realize I’m trying to HELP you, right? I’m literally THE ONLY GUY AROUND coming on in here and being like, hey, Liberty and Bell, who are you REALLY? You don’t gotta be what they tell you! You’re free men, you’ve got a LIFE to live. Shouldn’t that be on your own terms?
A Cadillac Escalade pulls up. The two turkeys waddle towards it.
ME: Oh, is that your ride? Ride’s here, huh? Gotta go, I guess, do you?
A man in sunglasses and a suit opens the door, lets the turkeys in, and shuts the door. I shake my head.
ME: Unbelievable.
The car windows roll down. Liberty and Bell have been wrapped in luxurious robes. They stare at me. I stare back. They do that thing of where somebody runs their finger across their throat to be like, “You’re dead!” but with their big wings.
ME: Jesus! OKAY.
The car drives off.
All right, well, apparently these are some capitalist-ass turkeys who are very into this whole thing. I did NOT expect that. And I wrote this! Well, whatever, name them whatever. Hell, split one word in half and name them that, who cares. Rude ass turkeys. I do NOT care anymore.
I like that you refer to your self as a guy sometimes, in a funny, gender-neutral sort of way. You're the only guy around who does this