Turkey

Imagine a turkey flying overhead and saying “Gobble, gobble.” — Now imagine eating this turkey for Thanksgiving: 

One year, my friend Stegz invited me to celebrate the holiday with his family. His mom was preparing the meal, but her oven didn’t seem to be working right: Although she put the bird in there a whole day early, she kept checking its temp and frowning and sliding it back in. — She ended up leaving it in the oven overnight. Then, when the actual day of Thanksgiving arrived, she reasoned that the turkey must be done cooking, so she set it on the serving platter: Its skin was whitish pink. So she mixed some liquids together (I don’t remember the exact ingredients, but it was mostly melted butter) and, with a brush, she painted this glaze all over the carcass: Now the bird looked golden brown. Then we all said a prayer and began to eat. The flesh tasted delicious. “Yum-yum!” and “So juicy red!” we remarked. Then, after the meal, to our relief, not one of us suffered any digestive problems. Probably we were being protected by a Demon of Good Health.