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Over in Albuquerque new mexico there is tension in the air.

People walk the streets in trepidation because they sense that something is going down.

Nobody knows who how or why.

But there is one thing for certain feathers are about to fly.

 

If you travel south from Albuquerque the suburbs gradually give way to agriculture and you will arrive at a small town named los lunas.

The area is dotted with apple groves and peach orchards but los lunas is mainly known for its turkey farms and processing plants.

Where they process over 500,000 birds everyday.

But for the people in and around Albuquerque there will soon be hell to pay

 

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In an isolated turkey farm a female bird is sitting near the perimeter fence crying and shaking in distress.

All of her friends have disappeared one by one and she hasn’t got a clue where they have gone or why they haven’t come back.

Then she hears a scratching sound from the woodland near a dusty trail.

She looks up as a male turkey steps into view and he is looking in her direction.

He wanders over for a gander and to see what all the crying is about.

The female is sitting all lonely weeping and sobbing in the dirt.

While the male walks a little closer and by the way his name is Bert.

 

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The female who is named Hilda is shy at first but she soon opens up and tells the male turkey about her friends who have vanished.

She tells him how her friends were all loaded onto trucks and driven away to god knows where.

As the female turkey continues to talk( they tend to do this a lot) Bert gets a funny feeling beneath his skin.

And it isn’t from the stuffing or constant basting.

He needs to get to the bottom of this right now and time is wasting.

 

Bert knows that the trucks hold the answer to the vanishing turkeys.

Maybe the turkeys have just gone on a day trip or are visiting relatives in California?

But than again why don’t they ever come back?

He reaches out a wing towards the fence to pat Hilda goodbye when he blown back twenty foot.

He tumbles head over parsons nose and lands with a heavy thud.

Hilda calls out ‘Sorry I forgot to tell you that the fence is electrified.’ Bert cant answer because he has been roasted baked and totally fucking fried.

 

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But Bert is made from giblets of steel so he just shakes his drumsticks and slowly gets to his feet.

His wattle and snood turn red in anger and defiance and smoke appears from beneath his tail feathers.

With a wave to Hilda he waddles off towards his home in Arizona and as he walks he keeps an eye out for a wily coyote.

When he gets home he will report back to his boss colonel guajolote.

 

Colonel guajolote is the biggest meanest turkey in the while mid west.

He stands four foot tall with a body scarred from many fights and battles.

The colonel also sports a patch over his left eye from sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.

At the moment he is annoyed after been awoken from his midday slumber but he listens intently as Bert his messenger tells him about the goings on over in Albuquerque.

His snood has turned deep purple and his wattle bobbles around performing a little war dance.

He silences Bert with a deadly stare as he gazes in the direction of new mexico.

His enemies will never forget the destruction that he is about to bring.

The fight hasn’t started yet but the bell is about to ring.

 

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Early the next morning a band of wild turkeys march off in formation towards the battlefields over near Albuquerque.

They know that they are marching into battle but they are all seasoned veterans.

So the turkeys all moved forward with their chests puffed out and with feathers freshly preened.

The turkeys stick to the back roads and forest tracks as they head west.

These birds aren’t over stuffed or under baked they are the best of the best.

 

When they reach the farm two days later Bert warns colonel guajolote and the other turkeys about the electrified fence.

Their feathers stand on end as static fills the air and they stand at attention waiting for further orders.

Colonel guajolote realises that they can’t go through or under the fence so he will have to come up with a different plan of attack.

Because not only is the colonel big and mean and mighty unclean but he is also the most battle savvy bird in the flock.

To colonel guajolote there is no such thing as a roadblock.

 

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The thirty odd turkeys hide in the underbrush as they watch the farm with binoculars.

Every now and then a truck will pull in and leave with a full load of healthy looking birds

Where do they go ?And why don’t they ever return?

Colonel guajolote shakes his head in frustration as he watches the truck drive away.

He is getting too old for this shit all he ever wanted was a loving wife and a field full of corn.

But here he is running around like Jason freaking Bourne.

 

He mightn’t be Jason Bourne but he is still one mean mother plucker.

And he wont rest until he finds the missing turkeys so he tells his warrior turkeys to keep watching the farm.

While he takes a ride on one of the trucks to see where they go to

So when the next truck starts to pull out he jumps up and hitches a ride.

 

When he looks at the turkeys on the truck he notices that they aren’t happy at all.

They are crammed into crates where they cant move eat or drink.

The colonels blood begins to boil as he looks at his fellow turkeys looking all sad and forlorn.

Then the air brakes sound the truck has reached its destination.

The colonels heart burns in his chest with a sinking sensation.

 

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Straightaway he smells the stench of blood shit and death and he hangs his head in distress

He now knows why none of the turkeys ever return home.

Soon the crates of turkeys are unloaded by a forklift and disappear inside the factory.

The colonel takes a deep breath as he waddles toward the front door.

The turkeys pain and suffering digs deep in his craw.

 

When he opens the door he has a quick look around then puts on a white coat and a hair net and makes his way over to reception.

The receptionist looks up to see the ugliest man she has ever seen approach the counter.

Hello my name is Gilbert Guajolote from the Albuquerque  Health Board and I am here to inspect the facilities.’

The receptionist checks the appointments for the day”I am sorry but there is nothing here about any inspection today’

The colonel stands up straight and leans over the counter ‘Of course there isn’t so please go and inform the manager that I am here and make it snappy’

The receptionist smiles but she isn’t very happy.

 

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A harried looking man soon arrives and is taken aback by the appearance of the inspector,surely he is the ugliest man on the planet.

‘Sorry for the delay my name is Harry Bastingwand please follow me’

Colonel guajolote breathes deep and steps over the threshold.

But the sight before him soon stops him in his tracks.

Hundreds and hundreds of dead featherless turkeys swing above the production line.

The colonel soon recovers and faces his fallen comrades with a quivering beak.

He raises a wing in a heartfelt salute turns on his heels and gets the fuck out of that murderous place.

Tome would surely stop if it saw the look on his face.

 

Once outside the colonel looks up to the heavens and screams a mighty war cry.

It echoes up and down the hills and valleys in new mexico Arizona and some say it was heard in Nevada and down to texas.

All of the wild turkeys in those states look to the sky and listen to the call to arms from the head of all turkeys.

A cry for freedom from down near Albuquerque.

 

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Colonel guajolote is in a rage as he continues to scream for help.

But he is afraid that his cries might not be heard by all of his allies so he climbs to the summit of the sandia peak tramway and builds himself a huge funeral pyre.

He covers himself in warpaint and dances around the fire until it dies down to embers.

Then he slowly flaps his wings amongst the wisps of smoke.

He flaps and sways until the tendrils of smoke start to form words.

The words are seen by the all of the turkeys in the united states.

Hopefully the turkeys will spring into action before it is too late.

 

Along the width and breadth of north America the words of smoke are seen by over 50 million wild turkeys.

Who soon form themselves into armies of birds,they storm turkey farms and processing plants and set free their captive friends.

 

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On the streets of America there is complete and utter chaos

It is almost thanksgiving and all of the TV networks are reporting a shortage this year in fact there are none to be had.

Supermarkets and convenience stores are bombarded by customers trying to keep the tradition alive.

They want turkey and they want it now but all stores have no turkeys this season.

All of the turkeys have escaped and are hiding in the undergrowth away from their tormentors and foes.

 

Colonel guajolote is one satisfied turkey.

He is now old and is enjoying his retirement.

His grandchildren keep him busy but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He is proud of his achievements  and on thanksgiving every year he raises a glass to all of  the fallen turkeys.

All is well down near Albuquerque.

 

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